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priincekin · 2 years ago

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Artifice - Hyuluka Oneshot

When Hyuna is coerced into accompanying her celebrity ex, Luka, to a lavish event, their troubled past and unresolved tensions resurface.

CW for an unhealthy relationship dynamic and manipulation!

For in depth tags, please check the AO3 upload. (Coming soon)

"Remind me why the hell I agreed to this?" Hyuna muttered under her breath, tugging at her too-short slip dress that clung tightly to every curve while simultaneously trying to adjust her thigh-highs, casting a glare at Luka across the limo. “… Send my compliments to your stylist for making me into a knock-off Barbie, and then tell ‘em to go play in traffic!”

Luka, of course, didn’t acknowledge her provocations. Nooooo, he was too busy prettying himself up, mascara wand poised. Figures.

Hyuna's frustration simmered as she watched him, his indifference stoking her anger.

Her eyes then fell once more on the infuriating list of 'rules' Luka had drafted for the evening. She had seen the paper before and thrown it away, but seeing that Luka went through the effort to print another one was enough to piss her off all over again. The neatly typed instructions on the crumpled paper seemed to mock her with their orderly bullets and condescending tone and Heperu’s letterhead.

“Now listen here, sweet cheeks, and listen good," she burst out, holding up the paper. “For the last time, I ain’t followin’ these rules, quit givin’ me more of these papers! You can shove ‘em right up your—“

"Please mind your language, Miss Hyuna,"

"Oh bite me! We all know I'm just arm candy, and it ain’t hard to stroke your ego for a few hours. Trust me. I’d know. So fuck off and lemme live a little! They're a joke.” She looked back down at the sheet with a scoff. “’Giggle, don’t laugh' - really? Who you tryin’ to turn me into?!”

God, the way they were arguing almost reminded her of old times. Back when he was her high-school sweetheart. Though, she was shocked he wasn’t being more argumentative toward her. By the end, Luka’s good moods were becoming rarer and rarer, and just being around him was like walking on eggshells. For a bit, Hyuna had made excuses for him — of course, with her temper, there was only so long until she was bound to explode.

Once she had blown up, the relationship was, of course, doomed. There was no recovery from the things she had said. They broke up over text. Yet, even though it was technically her fault, Luka leaving town soon after still wasn't just a minor plot twist; it was a full-on mindfuck. She'd catch herself getting all misty-eyed over their cheesy ice cream dates, where they'd crack up at the lamest jokes, or those beautiful nights in the deserted auditorium. Luka serenading her like she was the only girl in the world. Pity his dad slammed the brakes on that short-lived romantic gesture and forbade him from ever doing it again.

And then, after all that, Luka just had to go and get famous. Suddenly, his face was everywhere – magazines, billboards, you name it. Each time Hyuna saw that face, she reminded herself she should feel lucky to be rid of him, and that she had herself to thank for it.

But then, the tabloids started flaunting photos of Luka with his new girl of the month, and oh, did that grind her gears, even though Dewey and Isaac kept telling her it was nothing.

Was it jealousy? Boredom? Or maybe just an allergic reaction to being erased by some blond bombshell with a plastic smile? Whatever it was, hearing about each breakup was like savoring a fine wine; that was, until Luka had the nerve to show up at her door, needing a date for some swanky party after his newest beau gave him the middle finger.

Hyuna sank back into the velvet seat, her attention snapping back to the moment. Her fingers flirted with the edges of what was possibly the world's most irritating shawl, offering about as much modesty as a cocktail napkin. The silence was unbearably awkward; she had to fill it somehow.

“… A compliment wouldn’t kill ya, you know. Or is it too hard to admit you’re dazzled by all this?” With a teasing flourish, she let the shawl slip just a tad, winking and blowing a kiss for good measure.

Luka glanced up and quickly gave her a once-over, sighing in disappointment. “I would not say that. I feel like you should be more focused on having an amicable attitude rather than needlessly flirting.”

“Uh-huh. Yep, I’m totally flirting. Maybe if these heels weren't giving me so many damn blisters, I’d be in a better mood. But ‘till then, the only smiling I'll be doing is smiling through the pain. Now, pass the champagne, will ya?” She held out her hand.

Luka protectively moved the bottle away from her. “Please reference page four, line five of the contract. There is a clause stating that, should you be intoxicated or otherwise behave troublingly during the event, your payment will be voided and you will owe me three more dates as reparation.” He tried, in vain, to hide his smug little grin.

“There’s a what?!” Hyuna scrambled to pick the paper back up, and lo and behold; right there, in the tiniest font imaginable, was exactly what Luka had said. “Oh, you little—”

“Miss Hyuna.”

Hyuna forced herself to take a deep breath. ‘This shit is for Hyun-woo’, she reminded herself. ‘Do it for him.’

As cheesy as it was, her brother was the light of her life. For being an eleven-year-old boy, Hyun-woo was surprisingly sweet. Not at all like the assholes he went to school with, Hyuna had made sure of that much.

After she won sole custody of him, all of the expenses had fallen onto her shoulders: the bills, food, his allowance, and seemingly a million other things. Most of the time, she could make it work, even on her pathetic bartender’s paycheck.

But Christmas was a whole different kind of struggle. Living paycheck to paycheck meant there was never extra cash for Hyun-woo’s presents. The real sting was in the simplicity of his wishes – a DS game, a cheap Nerf gun, an outdated board game. That's all he wanted that year. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she saved, some unavoidable expense always reared its ugly head, draining away her meager savings. It seemed like there was no other way.

Finally, the limo pulled up to a grand mansion, its lights casting a cold glow over the entrance. Hyuna peered out the window, noticing two girls at the doorway: one in a suit with long pink hair, discreetly fiddling with a ring box in her pocket, and the other, with short black hair, clad in a white dress. At least some people were having a nice time.

“Well, ain't this just peachy," she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "A regular palace for Prince Charming and his temporary Cinderella."

Luka finally looked up, meeting her eyes. “Now that we're here, remember to smile and wave. It's all about appearances, isn't it?" He forced a smile himself as if to set an example, but it only soured her mood further. “Though, you are certainly at an advantage with how beautiful you are.”

“Too late for the compliment, buddy.” Hyuna rolled her eyes. “I'll smile and wave. Like I'm a damn parade float." She opened the limo door and stepped out, her heels clicking against the cobblestone driveway. The cold air hit her and made her wish, yet again, for a longer dress.

Luka, as if by magic, whipped out a plush white fur coat from the trunk and slung it over Hyuna's shoulders with a flourish. For a split second, she almost bought into it, the coat's luxurious softness tricking her into thinking he might actually care. Was he finally clued into how uncomfortable she was? To how exposed she felt? She let herself indulge in that thought, the tension in her shoulders easing off a notch as she grabbed his outstretched hand, her cheeks betraying a reluctant blush.

Then, wham. The scent hit her -– a blend of chrysanthemums and wilted roses, laced with bitter almonds. It was perfume, and definitely not her brand. That's when it clicked. This wasn't some chivalrous move; it was Luka’s version of peacocking, a display for the few nosy onlookers ogling at them. They were absolutely eating it up.

Hyuna’s grip on his hand turned from soft to vice-like, not out of romance, but so she didn’t facepalm right there and then.

How utterly 'Luka' to turn even a coat into a performance.

Hyuna shuddered, skin crawling under the perfumed fur. "Wow, so generous!” She whisper-yelled. “Real classy, Luka! Decking me out in a coat you lent to your last fling? What's the grand plan here, recycling her bling for me next?”

Luka tsked under his breath. "The one time I attempted kindness with you... How fascinating, though, that you care so much about what she did.”

They entered the glittering ballroom, all string quartets and designer outfits straight from the pages of Vogue. Hyuna sized up the crowd, mentally tagging each socialite with the most absurd names she could think of.

As Luka steered them towards the center, Hyuna operated on autopilot — a plastered smile, forced giggles at their pretentious bragging just as Luka asked. But, instinctively, she occasionally leaned over and muttered to Luka under her breath:

"You think that dude knows his fake tan is literally dripping down his arm?"

"Twenty bucks says that girl trips on her dress. God, it looks like she’s wearing a curtain…"

“Manners, darling.”

“It’s either I say it to you or I say it to their faces,” she hissed back.

‘Four hours.’, she chanted inwardly. Then sweet freedom and her even sweeter paycheck.

Hyuna continued to trail behind as Luka flitted from one circle of guests to the next. Her cheeks ached from keeping a smile while straining to laugh daintily at comments ranging from dull to outright crude and dehumanizing.

After the fifth round of banal small talk about vacation homes and polo tournaments, Hyuna found herself practically wilting into the plush fur coat. God, even the coat was getting on her nerves. Its cloying floral scent made her stomach turn, and she couldn't stop fidgeting with the garish ruffles lining the sleeves.

Luka suddenly clamped a firm hand on her wrist, stilling its motions. "Stop that. Honestly, your manners tonight..." He sighed, guiding her toward the dance floor where a few couples swayed lazily. "Just try to enjoy yourself a little?"

Luka drew Hyuna near, seemingly for a waltz. She opened her mouth to object, but reluctantly rested a hand on his shoulder, resisting the childish urge to stomp on his polished boots. As they began half-heartedly twirling, Hyuna felt remarkably disconnected — it was nothing like the way they used to dance — but it wasn’t long before a burst of coos and applause pulled her eyes toward the garden entrance. There stood the two girls from earlier, both with tears in her eyes. One had dropped to her knee, presenting a ring with trembling hands.

"Oh, would you look at that?" Luka smiled softly. "I suppose this manor would look awfully nice in the proposal pictures.”

Hyuna usually wasn’t a sucker for such cheesy moments. Still, she couldn't help but track the heartwarming scene over Luka's shoulder. A real proposal, she mused. No pretense or strings attached...

Hyuna started to turn around to watch, but everything was ruined by one uneven floor tile.

Mid-spin, her stiletto caught on it, sending her flailing backward. She crashed to the floor — thank God for Luka’s coat, or else it would’ve been even worse.

A horrified collective gasp echoed as every head swiveled her way, including the two girls. The applause and music ceased with a screech. In the excruciating silence, she felt hundreds of eyes boring into her, Luka’s especially. His grip closed on her arm, wrenching her upright with a sharp whisper. “What did I say about manners? You just ruined their entire proposal.”

Hyuna felt her cheeks burn red-hot, as guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. “Oh, yeah, ‘cause that was totally on purpose! Screw askin’ me if I’m okay, right?” She whispered back, wishing that Luka would just shut his mouth and try to cover for her.

"I cannot believe you've embarrassed me like this, after everything I've done." Luka's usual composure cracked, voice lowered to a harsh whisper. "The other guests can hardly look at me now. This appearance was crucial for my image, not to mention our agreement, and you..."

He trailed off, shaking his head. His fingers dug into the fur coat with white knuckles before he released her. When Luka raised his eyes to meet hers, he looked absolutely disgusted.

"Just get out of my sight. I need to salvage what remains of this wretched evening."

Hyuna weakly scoffed, then pulled herself free to sketch a barely passable curtsy to the crowd. “Sorry for the unplanned entertainment tonight,” she called out, trying to ignore the sobs. “As you were!” Ignoring the whispers echoing around her, she beelined away from Luka; anywhere but there was good enough for her.

Hyuna shoved through the murmuring crowd, cheeks burning under the weight of so many prying eyes. The stilettos clicked loudly against the tile floor as she muttered insults towards the gawkers blocking her escape. Just as the cool night air kissed her bare shoulders, a familiar voice called out.

"Heyyyyyy, Hyuna! Fancy seein' ya here!"

She whirled around, a biting retort poised on her lips. But there stood Dewey and Isaac, surprisingly dapper in their mismatched suits and shit-eating grins. Despite her overwhelming emotions, Hyuna couldn't restrain a hint of a smile. Leave it to these two knuckleheads to appear from thin air when she needed it most. Hyuna placed her hands on her hips, arching an eyebrow.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "This ain't exactly an open-invitation party, geniuses."

Isaac rocked eagerly on his heels. "Oh it was easy peasy to sneak in the kitchen door while them fancy waiters were distracted. Plus, you mentioned you'd be ‘ere with, uh… Y’know, Mr. High-and-Mighty," he said, gesturing vaguely toward Luka's direction. “Wanted to see how it’d play out since he’s such an--”

Dewey quickly clamped a hand over Isaac's rambling mouth. "Can the chatter before we get tossed out!" He shot Hyuna a sheepish grin. "Just, uh, wanted to check in on ya. Make sure princey isn't being too much of a sleaze."

"A sleaze? Nah, try self-centered jackass," she replied, launching into a recap of the disastrous proposal scene. Dewey and Isaac's eyes grew wide as saucers.

"No way he blamed you for that!" Dewey scoffed. "What a prick."

Hyuna threw her hands up in exasperation. "Thank you! Guy drives me absolutely insane."

Isaac gave an enthusiastic nod and dove a hand into his suit pocket. "Yeah. Hey, uh, you guys tried the shrimp? I snatched a bunch when those waiter guys weren't lookin'." He held up a fistful of mangled cocktail shrimp, tails dangling limply.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?!” When Isaac raised the shrimp to his mouth, Hyuna swatted it out of his hand and onto the floor. “Rule one of stealing food! Bring a ziplock or tupperware!”

Isaac dejectedly stared down at the shrimp on the floor. “... I ran out of ziplocks.” His lip quivered like he was about to cry.

“Then buy more! You have a job!” Hyuna whisper-yelled, playfully hitting him in the shoulder. “Unless you got fired again!”

A prickling unease crept over Hyuna as she felt eyes boring into her back.

“Uh… girl? You might wanna turn around…” Dewey said, pointing behind her.

Luka was staring. His polished composure had vanished, replaced by clenched fists and an infuriated glare. Stalking over to her, his expression

"We need to talk. Now." Luka's grabbed tightly onto Hyuna's arm as he steered her away. She shot a helpless look back to Dewey and Isaac.

"Get your paws off me!" She shook out of his grasp. "You don't own me, Luka. I can talk to whoever I damn well please-"

Luka's bitter scoff cut her off as he took her wrist yet again. "Oh yes, cozying up to a pair of hoodlums should shine brilliantly in the gossip columns."

Finally, they reached an inconspicuous, plain door. Luka pushed it open, revealing a small, dimly lit linen closet. With a swift movement, he pulled her inside and shut the door behind them, plunging them into near darkness, the only light coming from the crack under the door. Hyuna bristled, backing herself away from him and towards the wall.

“Why are we here?! Someone definitely saw us come in here, and you know what they probably think we’re doin’ right now?! They prolly think--”

Luka leaned close, taking a deep breath. "This night was already disastrous enough without you flirting to make me jealous." He paused. "Go ahead, deny that's what you wanted."

“What are you talking about?! You literally told me to get away from you!” Hyuna's retort came out quieter than she intended as Luka’s hands found the curve of her waist, pulling her closer. The cold of his body against hers was so disgusting but oh so familiar, and Hyuna found herself melting into it. But she still felt his eyes on her, watching her every movement as he stared up at her from her chest.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Hyuna muttered.

Luka’s eyes finally closed, sighing softly. “Like what?”

“Like I’m something you own,” She finally found it in her to try pushing him away, and to his credit, his grip faltered. “You know damn well I hate when you get all possessive, ‘specially over Dewey and—”

“It’s not about them,” Luka cuts in sharply.

“Oh, please! They’re so gay for each other, you’d have to be blind not to—”

“That’s not the point, Hyuna!”

“Yeah, well, you’re choosing to be a dick about it!”

Before Hyuna could say anything more, his lips found hers in a kiss. Hyuna’s eyes widened. She didn’t kiss back, but she didn’t pull away either; for all she cared, he could kiss himself breathless.

Hyuna’s pulse raced as her heart, slowly but surely, began to betray her. She hated him, sure, but somewhere, buried under layers of hurt and pride, a fragment of what used to be lingered. This wasn’t about wanting him. It was about wanting what they used to have. She’d always been too stubborn to let go of things…

As his kiss deepened, Hyuna's resistance finally crumbled.

This was stupid.

She found herself responding with equal fervor, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. The small space seemed to shrink further.

So stupid.

Hyuna closed her eyes, letting him close what little distance was left between them. But it didn’t feel close enough.

She hated herself for this.

Breaking the kiss, Luka’s breath was ragged against her lips. “This is the end for us, isn’t it?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Instead of answering, she reached down, pulling him back up to her, their lips meeting yet again. This wasn’t just about pretenses or contracts. This was something raw, something real that wasn’t supposed to happen.

What felt like an eternity passed between them before she pulled away, a sad, sardonic smile playing on her lips.

Thank God the room was dark, or else Luka might’ve seen the angry tears clouding her vision.

"... ‘course, you had to start tryin’ to be sweet at the worst time.”

Luka looked at her, a hint of frustration in his eyes. "This isn't about timing, Miss Hyuna. This is about…"

"About what? Us?" Hyuna cut him off, sidestepping further into the shadows of the closet. "There is no 'us', remember? We're just a couple of fucked-up people who can't seem to stay away from each other, even after years." She crossed her arms, her heart racing. "I ain’t doin’ this anymore. That kiss? That was it. Now, are we gonna be adults about it and end this for good, or are you gonna keep bein’ in denial?"

"I wish it were that simple."

Hyuna let out a short, mirthless laugh. "Right, ‘cause everything's gotta be complicated with you. Newsflash, Luka, it doesn't have to be. We make it complicated. Mostly you. This was all supposed to be fake, but nope, you took me into a closet and started makin’ out with me.”

For a moment, Luka was silent. Then, with a sigh, he stepped back, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I suppose it's time we face reality. This... whatever it is, between us, it's not healthy."

The words, though expected, stung Hyuna more than she cared to admit. She should’ve been grateful that he didn’t keep fighting it, but nope. Her heart was sinking. But she nodded, her own resolve steeling. "Yep. It’s time.”

Luka reached out, his hand trembling with unspoken words. “Hyuna, I—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted sharply. “Just don’t. Spare us the dramatics.”

There was a pause, heavy and laden, as Luka seemed to process the information. Then, like a scene from a worn-out play, his charm slid back into place, smooth and unnervingly familiar. It was like he became an entirely new person in a matter of seconds, and Hyuna bristled.

“On second thought… Darling, you’re seeing this all wrong,” he said. “We’re a match made in heaven, you and I.”

Hyuna’s attempt to step back was futile; Luka’s grasp was firm yet gentle. “Luka, cut the crap. I know what you’re doin’.”

“But think of what we’ve shared. Our dates, the outings, me holding you when you cry.”

“And the fights? The tears? The screaming matches in the school janitor's closet? Dammit Luka, you were the reason I was crying!” Hyuna countered, her voice wavering.

“Hyuna, darling, that’s how relationships work. We bicker, yes, but we never fail to come back together…”

“You left,” Hyuna snapped. A knot of anger and hurt tightened in her chest. His words were half-truths and blatant manipulation, and yet she still began to feel swayed.

“You know very well that was my Father’s decision for my career and not my own.”

“But did ya fight back?! Probably not, ‘cause since when do you think for yourself?”

Luka lowered his voice, clearly giving up. “... Aside from that, who understands you as I do?” Luka’s voice was soft, almost persuasive, his words carefully chosen. “We’re inevitable, Hyuna. Stay with me, and your brother’s future is secure. That’s a promise only I can make.”

“You… really?” Her resolve wavered further. Luka was stupid rich; if he wanted to, he could pay for her brother’s college education. She’d never have to worry about paying for his gifts ever again. Luka was right. This was a promise only he could make.

“You’re so damn impossible,” she muttered, caught in the tempest of his gaze. Reluctantly, she found herself drawn into his embrace, their lips meeting in a bitter kiss of surrender.

Was it really so wrong to fall back into this cycle? To choose the devil she at least knew over uncertainty?

As their kiss deepened, her doubts seemed to dissolve into the heat of the moment.

#alien stage #alien stage hyuna #alien stage luka #fanfic #oneshot #hyuluka #alien stage hyuluka #divider credit; cafekitsune #no beta we die like sua

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weidaoduzun3 · 2 years ago

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Hermetic Meritorious & Demeritorious Exercise to Prepare for Rebirth.

This is a practice I’ve been doing for a little over a month now, which is a more Chinese-Daoist/Buddhist practice of listing out ones demerits and merits that one has committed throughout the day, or week or month. It’s not really occult or esoteric — sorry :p

It builds off the idea of a Folk-Daoist concept of Ganying 感應 or correlative resonance. Basically cause and effect. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ganying

Typically I follow the lists of Merits and Demerits from the 文昌帝君陰騭文/Wenchang's Treatise on Secret Merit & 太上感應篇 Taishang Ganying Pian, respectively, to go off of what is “meritorious” and “demeritorious.”

I highly recommended you all check out @edwardW2 (on Twitter) compilation of three different translations of each text

https://edwardwhite123.blogspot.com/2022/03/wenchangs-treatise-on-secret-merit.html

https://edwardwhite123.blogspot.com/2022/05/taishang-ganying-pian-three-translations.html

While there is no such practice in the realm of Greco-Egyptian Hermeticism, at least that I am aware of, this practice of 感應 can easily be applied to a Hermetic praxis/setting.

Particularly in Corpus Hermeticum XIII.7-9. Here we are presented with the 12 Irrational Tormentors and the 10 Divine Liberators of said Tormentors.

So with a sheet of paper, you can list all the times throughout your day, week or month, you were:

1. Ignorant

2. Stricken with Grief

3. Incontinent (lost control of your emotions)

4. Lustful

5. Unjust

6. Greedy

7. Deceitful

8. Envious

9. Treacherous

10. Angry

11. Reckless

12. Malicious

Likewise, we can record our merits or “Liberators” in a Hermetic setting by:

1. Acknowledging when Knowledge has dispelled our Ignorance

2. Recognize when we were Joyous to dispel our Grief

3. Acknowledged when we had Continence over our emotions.

4. When we Persevered through Lustful temptations.

5. When Justice prevailed our once unjust attitude and actions.

6. When we displayed Liberality over our Greed.

7. Record when we were earnestly Truthful, to dispel Deceitful Behavior.

In CH XIII.9, once Truth has arrived to us throughout the day, week or month, together with the Good, life and light (the remainder of the Three Divine Liberators), Hermetic Rebirth is achieved!

What you do with the piece of paper is up to you. You could keep them for tracking your moral progression, or you could burn the paper like I do. (🔥USE FIRE SAFETY. PLEASE.🔥) I burn the paper because it is a symbolic releasing of these good and bad deeds, as I do not wish to harbor good deeds and become pretentious. Likewise, harboring bad deeds will only bring us more grief. As you burn the list of merits and demerits safely, reflect deeply on your successes and failures. Ponder the consequences of meritorious deeds. Likewise, reflect how your faulty actions produced strife and conflict in yours or another’s life. But just as the paper in front of you burns away, so too does your merit. So too does your demerits burn away. Harbor nothing but the wisdom of your ancestors the gods and God; returning to a state of nothingness — ashes. And from these ashes, pray for more meritorious actions to arise from within and without.

The cause: Recording our daily, weekly or monthly Tormentors and Liberators.

The effect: A preparation for Hermetic Rebirth.

While this Hermetic Rebirth is a central theme in CH XIII. Who says we cannot undergo a sort of spiritual rebirth everyday, or every week or, every month? (Psst…we most certainly can, and I personally think that is the point of “Hermetic Rebirth.”) Spiritual Rebirth is not just a one and done thing. It’s a life long process that I, a Hermeticist, must and will continue to undergo.

I think using Corpus Hermeticum XIII is a great way to daily, weekly, or monthly record our merits and demerits. It’s a practice that builds integrity and moral fortitude. And ultimately leads to a Spiritual Rebirth. I’m not suggesting at all that Hermetic literature and PGM practices, and other technical Hemerticas can cause or not cause moral integrity and fortitude, just that there is a lack of structure and praxis for dispelling the Tormentors, which is not always a bad thing — the lack of structure I mean.

As a Hermeticist I use the structure of practices that come from various traditions — see my post on the Christian Meditative practice called Lectio Divina. My noetic theurgy, called the Silent Prayer, closely resembles Dhikr, which is a Muslim meditative practice that involves reciting the 99 names of Allah. This is just the reality for us Hermeticist — lack of structural praxis! Again this is not a bad thing. Just through the course of time and suppression of beliefs, we do not have alot of surviving structural practices for a “Hermetic Praxis.” It is what is. But the lack of structure gives us, the practitioners, the power and opportunity to build a valid and authentic spiritual praxis that’s very customizable, and substitutable for our contemporary lives! Which is a very beautiful process to undergo, personally.

If you all need more help in structuring a Hermetic Praxis — please check out @polyphanes Kofi shop and buy his Preces Templi e-book.

I hope this exercise serves everyone well whether you use the traditional Chinese list of Merits and Demerits, or if you wish to use CH XIII.7-9. Gods bless you all.

#hermeticism #philosophy #daoism #buddhism #hermetica #hermes trismegistus #merits #Demerits #exoteric

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littlebatsimagines · 3 years ago

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By Your Side (Arkham Asylum! Bruce Wayne x Fem! Reader)

Request: So if its all right with you I’d love to request a Bruce Wayne Arkham asylum game Bruce Wayne to be exact if female reader was working with him to help clean up the island and she gets injured and he gets a bit worried but is still strict about it because its Batman for peace sakes and he confesses his feeling for reader and they kiss so like an angst fluff please and thank you again love your writing💕💕💕

Sorry this took so long to get out! I actually went back and replayed Asylum so it was fresh in my mind then all my stuff showed up from moving so I had ALL my Arkham books 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

MasterList

(Y/n)= your name

(Y/nn)= your nick name

(Y/ln)= your last name

(ec)= eye color

‘First Joker tries to kill the mayor and now he's caught. If Bruce doesn't think something is wrong here he's losing his touch.’ (Y/n) thought as she turned off the news. ‘Nah Bruce is too smart too be fooled so easily.’ her thoughts continued as she started to make herself dinner. Half way through making her dinner she turned on the radio.

“This is Jack Ryder with breaking news in the Gotham Bay. We are getting reports of an armed siege on Arkham Island. Two minutes ago, Joker broadcast to all news channels this chilling message.”

Dinner now forgotten (Y/n) turned her full attention to the radio as Joker’s voice echoed through her small apartment. “Greetings Gotham, this is the voice of your new master. Oh hang on…I’ve skipped a bit. Joker here! I'm in control of Arkham Island and you can all consider it out of bounds. If I see any lawmen, vigilantes, or do-gooders in tights coming this way, I'll start detonating random bombs around the city! What'll it be? A kindergarten? A hospital? A billionaire’s mansion? Choices, choices, choices.” Joker’s speech finished as (Y/n) looked down at the busy city streets to see police and fire crews rushing around the streets in search of the bombs. ‘Joker’s bluffing, he just doesn't want anyone else on the Island. I'm sure Bruce will have it all covered.’ she thought before her phone dinged with a text.

Dick: Hey (Y/nn) I heard what's going on, I'll be in Gotham soon to help. Suit up we have work to do.

(Y/n): copy that see you soon

Going into her room and into her room she moved all her clothes to reveal the hidden panel that held her black and red catsuit, being Selina's younger sister had its perks. Once suited up (Y/n) climbed out the window using the fire escape to get up to the rooftops of Gotham. Moving a few roofs over (Y/n) patched into the police radio frequency and listened to the chatter to see if the police made any progress while waiting for Nightwing. “Hey kid, find anything?” came Dick’s voice. “Nothing. I think he's bluffing.” (Y/n) said as she turned to look at him. “Maybe so, Bruce would kill us both if we just assumed.” Dick mentioned making (Y/n) nod and hum in acknowledgment.

Hours of searching the city the two vigilantes found one of Joker's bombs downtown. “Well this looks fun.” (Y/n) said as she looked down at the bomb in the vent. “You want to get it or should I?” Nightwing asked making her shrug. “I got it, just make sure everyone is at a safe distance.” (Y/n) said as she shimmied down the vent to the bomb. Taking a deep breath (Y/n) calmed her racing heart before taking the top of the bomb off gently to be met with a small meow and a little orange paw batting at her fingers and the smell of sugar. “You good down there?” Nightwing yelled. “Peachy! The bomb is filled with kittens and marzipan!” (Y/n) called back as she climbed up with a few of the kittens. “At least we get to see these cuties" (Y/n) said as she passed some of the kittens to Dick, who helped her carry them out to the police.

Dick and (Y/n) made sure there were no hidden bombs left and took care of the street crime that plagued Gotham. While subdoing a group of criminals an alert came through on the gauntlet Selina gave her.

Selina: check the news now!

With that message (Y/n) went to a storefront that had several tvs on display showing the Gotham news. “Oh my god.” she said with (ec) wide eyes as she watched Bruce fight several of Joker’s goons and bombs while a hulking, monstrous version of Joker showboated for the news choppers. “What’s up?“ Dick said but all (Y/n) could do was point to the tv. “You’re seeing that too, right?” she asked as Dick slowly nodded. “He will be ok, right?” she asked the nervousness clear in her voice. “Yeah of course. He's Batman." Dick said as they watched. Before long Bruce had beaten Joker with an explosive gel punch knocking the monster back into the exposed electrical wires. "I know he fights Bane and stuff but I don't think I can handle watching something like that again." (Y/n) said with a sigh. "Ha, I think he'd love to hear your concern for him." Dick said with a small laugh making (Y/n) shake her head.

"New reports from Arkham Island, Batman and local authorities are helping evacuate all injured personnel and inmates for proper care." the voice of the news reporter caught (Y/n) attention. "I'm going to go help out on the island you have everything covered here?" she asked turning to Dick as he passed off a thug to the police. "Yeah I have it covered don't worry. Robin will be here soon anyway." he said with his charming smile and with a nod (Y/n) was off making her way to Arkham Island.

The island was in chaos but it was the good chaos of helping those in need. Bruce wasn't hard to find. "Hey Bats need some help?" (Y/n) asked making Bruce turn to her. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Gotham helping Robin." He said sternly only for (Y/n) to sigh. "Nightwing is with him and I figured you could use the help after the night you've had. Besides I had to see myself that you were ok." she said the last part quietly moving closer to his side. "I'm fine get back to Gotham I have it covered." He said moving away from her only for (Y/n) to grab his arm and gently pull him into a side hall out of the way of the rushing doctors and first responders. "Bats you can't do everything alone. I'm worried about you, its been one hell of a night and you're exhausted let me help." she whispered as she looked up him pleadingly. Bruce studied her carefully before nodding and walking away. (Y/n) quickly followed after him splitting up to different parts of the hall to help those who needed it most.

Everything was going great until...it wasn't. (Y/n) was helping a young doctor when she was suddenly pulled back by her hair. She could feel heavy breathing down the back of her neck while something cold was placed at her neck while the person behind her let out quiet giggles. "You're no Batman...but you'll do." they said softly making (Y/n)'s blood run cold. She knew that voice, she knew it too well, it was a voice that always gave her nightmares that Bruce had to come in and calm, it was the voice of Victor Zsasz. She began shaking uncontrollably. Zsasz was so distracted by her that he didn't notice the young doctor run out of the room. Zsasz rambled on and on and on about how he would kill her, how he would do it, where he would put the mark but she heard none of it all she heard was her terrified heart pounding in her ears. It was over all to quickly, she was on the floor, Zsasz was knocked out and being dragged away by staff and Batman was standing over her. Looking up at him the mask of the Bat fell away and she could see in his eyes Bruce was asking if she was ok but he already knew the answer. "No." was all she needed to whisper before she was picked up and carried away by Bruce.

He took her out to the Batwing was and sat her down. "I've told you how many times be carful when you're here! This is why I didn't want you here!" He angrily snapped at her. "I'm sorry I should've paid more attention." (Y/n) said quietly as she looked down at the ground. Bruce let out a deep sigh before pulling her into a tight hug. "I can't lose you too...not like Jason. I won't be able to take it." He said quietly being vulnerable about the young Robin for the first time in almost a year making her instantly wrap her arms around him tightly. "I'm right here...I'm not going anywhere." she said looking up at him rubbing his cheek as she gathered up all her courage and after a moment she kissed the Batman and to her surprise he returned it with the same passion and longing she had been dying to show him. "I'm by your side...always Bruce." she whispered as she laid her forehead to his only to be pulled into a deeper more loving and desperate kiss. "And I'm by yours."

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 4 years ago

Text

Part One. George: the definition of “hello, have you met my friend?”

warnings: none word count: 1568 (not including pictures) *** Bugsy is Y/n’s username! I got too attached to change it to y/u/n so change it in your mind if you’d like :)

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Y/n sighed lightly as she set her phone on the desk in front of her. Her eyes traveled back to her monitor, where George was sharing his screen on Discord as he practiced speedruns. Y/n and Sapnap were on call with him to keep him company.

The cold air around her nipped at her skin, sending chills and bringing goosebumps. She pulled her hoodie closer to her body, tucking her feet on her chair to curl herself in a ball.

"This run sucks," George mumbled. "I thought it was going to be good."

"It would have if the village actually had anything useful," Sapnap commented. "There was a lava pool at spawn and everything."

"What do you think, Bugsy? Should I start over?"

She hummed, squinting at the screen. "Yeah, you should."

He left and started a new run.

"Karl's replies on Twitter are always so funny," Sapnap giggled after a few moments of silence. "He's so formal."

"I love that kid. That's my best friend right there, no cap," Y/n said with a smile. She and Karl had been friends for a few years now. They met through their parents being friends and shortly found out the other streamed and quickly bonded over that as their fanbases grew.

"Did you see Wilbur's response to your tweet?" Sapnap asked. "Man wrote you a letter."

"What did the tweets say?" George asked, half-listening as he focused on his run.

Sapnap read them and George laughed through his nose. "How could you ask for a Minecraft boyfriend while you're literally on a call with us while I'm playing Minecraft?"

"Just keeping my options open," Y/n laughed. "Don't worry, I'm wearing a GeorgeNotFound hoodie as we speak."

"I'd be worried, George. There are quite a few proposals in the responses."

"Shut up," Y/n muttered, a smile on her face that she was glad neither of them could see. "George, you remember my roommate is in love with you, right? Don't upset her by being jealous of boys coming after me."

"You're an idiot," George breathed out in a laugh. "No, she's not."

"She is. Very much."

"No, no, she isn't."

"George," Sapnap sighed dramatically. "Just accept that you can be loved."

"You're both idiots, okay?" George laughed awkwardly. "This seed is terrible," he groaned.

"Wait!" Sapnap yelled. "Village on the left!"

George quickly turned and ran towards the village to loot it. Y/n watched with Sapnap as George found iron and a few other valuable things.

"Oh! This might be okay."

"Bugsy?" Sapnap asked slowly, sounding confused.

"Sapnap?" she replied in the same tone.

"Have you not met Quackity?"

"No. What made you ask?"

"I just saw his response to your tweet."

"Why are you two on your phones? I'm speedrunning!"

"Because you still haven't made it to the nether on any of them," Sapnap bit. "How are you best friends with Karl and you haven't you met Quackity?"

"I dunno. I just haven't. There's a lot of people I have only spoken to through Twitter replies."

"Like who?" George asked.

"Why are we only talking about me?" Y/n asked in slight frustration. She wasn't fond of talking about herself because she wasn't used to it. "This is George's stream."

"Well, now I'm really curious so I wanna talk about this," George laughed. "Who haven't you met?"

"I dunno!" she said, flustered. "Quackity, Wilbur, Dream, Tubbo, Tomm-- wait, no I met Tommy. He yelled at me."

"Wait, wait, what?" Sapnap interrupted.

Y/n paused but neither of them said anything. "What?"

"You haven't met Dream?" George asked, sounding equally as confused.

No one said anything. "No? Why is that surprising. I mean, we've joked through tweets and stuff but I've never played with him or actually spoken to him."

"What about DMs and stuff?" George asked.

"Nope. Dream is just thirsty in my replies like Wilbur," she joked, feeling the anxiety of the awkward pauses seep through her skin and touch her bones. Why were they being so weird about it? "Why is that so shocking that a man with, like, 15 million subscribers has never spoken to me?"

Sapnap laughed. "I'm just genuinely surprised that he hasn't reached out to you before."

"Yeah, me too," George agreed. "He talks about you in a way I thought you guys were good friends. And you're friends with us so I just assumed you were friends with him too."

Y/n laughed, nervous at the mention of being talked about. "Well, he must be a pussy or something because I have yet to receive any acknowledgement from Dream Was Taken besides him occasionally replying to my tweets and Instagram pictures."

George laughed suddenly, making Y/n look at the monitor with George's screen quickly, which wasn't moving. "What happened? Did you find something?"

"No," George's screen began moving again and he started building a portal. "Dream just texted me because he's watching the stream."

"What did he say?" Sapnap asked.

"He said, 'can I join the call? I don't want Bugsy to think I'm a pussy'," George answered, lowering his voice to a mumble before adding, "And something else he'd probably kill me if I said out loud."

Sapnap and George laughed at Y/n's silence. She was only joking, not intending to challenge him to talk to her. Honestly, she was relieved he had never spoken to her because he intimidated her. Meeting people made her nervous and Dream was no different. If anything, he was worse because he was a big deal and he kinda flirted with her sometimes, which gave her butterflies in a way she didn't like.

"I'm adding him to call," George announced.

"Wait, you're not going to check if I'm okay with meeting him live in front of 80,000 people?" Y/n asked with a small, nervous laugh.

"No, because it's my stream. I can do what I want. I can't live another second knowing you two have never talked."

"I think Bugsy's scared!" Sapnap coeed.

"I think so too!"

"You wish," Y/n muttered.

A small sound emitted from Discord, notifying everyone that someone joined the voice chat.

"Hello Dreeaamm..." George dragged out as he navigated the nether. "I made it to the nether, Sapnap. Will you get off your phone now?"

"Yeah, I guess. Hi Dream!"

"Hello," Dream said casually. "Hello, Bugsy."

Y/n lowered in her chair more, pulling her hood up and closing it tight over her eyes. No one could see her but his voice made her feel seen.

Sapnap giggled and George laughed. Dream breathed out a laugh. Y/n responded with a small, "Hi."

"Bugsy, you're such a liar!" Sapnap called out. "You are so scared."

"Shut up, Sapnap!" she chuckled.

"Scared of what?" Dream asked innocently.

"Meeting you," George answered. Traitor.

"Forgive me," Y/n started, sitting up in her seat and pulling open her hood to watch George play, "for being nervous to meet Mr. Speedrun in front of a huge live audience." She decided to joke around to hopefully ease the nervousness under her skin. "I'm just worried he's going to flirt with me again and I'll have to embarrass him in front of everyone by rejecting him again."

They all laughed.

"I mean, you already said Karl was in the lead for being your Minecraft boyfriend, so I really have no shot," Dream said.

"As if I'm letting some girl named Bugsy steal my fiance!" Sapnap yelled.

"Ah!" The attention was ripped away from Y/n as George screamed. Y/n looked at the screen, watching as her friend was getting attacked by a hoard of zombie pigmen.

"Why did you hit one, George?" she teased.

"I didn't mean to! AHH!!" he screeched, making everyone laugh. "STOP ATTACKING ME!"

"George!" Dream laughed. "Just run, you won't be able to kill them all!"

"I'm trying!" George fell in lava and screamed again. His death appeared on the screen and Y/n could hear him slam his desk. "That run was so good until the zombie pig came out of nowhere."

He started a new run and it was quiet for a moment before Dream's soft voice spoke again. "Well, Bugsy. I hope you forgive me for taking so long to speak to you."

"I-I was just kidding about you being a pussy," she mumbled, making him laugh.

"No, it's true. I was."

"Come on, Dream, sliding in my DMs is easy," she joked. "You could have if you wanted to."

"Trust us," George laughed, "he wanted to."

"What?" Dream asked George loudly, making Sapnap laugh.

"Dream, you talk about her all the time. George and I were both led to believe you were already friends based on how you talk about her."

"How I talk about her? What does that mean?" Dream sounded defensive and it made Y/n smile.

"You're always like, 'Bugsy did this' and 'Bugsy tweeted that', and 'I have to do a face reveal before Bugsy does because she'll outshine me'," Sapnap teased.

"Okay, the last one? I never said that. You're lying about that."

"But the rest of it is true?" Y/n teased.

"Look, you play good and your tweets are funny! I didn't come on here to get bullied, oh my gosh."

**********

A/N: this is my first time attempting a social media fic so the theme of this series is gonna be ignore the number of likes/retweets and stuff just know that y/n is a much smaller streamer she only gets a lot of likes and stuff when it involves other mcyt ya know okay fun times

Please give feedback!! I hope you enjoy it!!! I don’t have a schedule right now but I might in the future if this series gets a lot of attention :) as of right now i’ll try to update at least once a week!

#real person fiction #rpf #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dreamwastaken x y/n #dream x y/n #dream x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #smau #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #social media fic #dream social media fic

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softly-savage-mint-yoongi · 4 years ago

Text

Blindfold

Blindfold Yunho x f.reader Genre: Smut Words: 3.8k Warnings: Not really any warnings but we’re into blindfolding and major teasing here, folks. Birthday sex.

Authors Note: I hope that writing this will quench my thirst and make him stop haunting my dreams. Please suffer with me.

March 23rd. A day you’ve had marked with three red ‘x’’s on your phone calendar for a month. A day you have thought about since Valentine’s Day, after your wonderful, loving, perfect-to-you-in-every-way boyfriend told you about something he would like to try. The conversation had been innocent enough, although there was some irony in it’s exchange, during post-sex cuddles on your bed.

He was all giggles, with soft hands and warm skin, voice lower than usual and just as tender. You could feel the gentle tickle of his lips at your hairline as they moved to form words. Easy words that spelled out his curious desire, “Maybe someday we could try blindfolding.” Those six simple words, spoken with a tangible smile and blushing cheeks, had you pulling your head back from the comfort of his neck to watch his face. Yunho was grinning, somehow shy after all this time, and proud of himself nonetheless. You smiled right back at him with your lips pressed to his chin when he playfully lifted his lips too high for you to reach in your position cradled against his chest. “If you want to blindfold me I would let you. I trust you.” you assured him, but he let out a soft laugh. He swallowed audibly under your full attention, clearing his throat to speak even softer, “Not you…” You said nothing, needing a moment to understand, “I want you to blindfold me.” Realization hit you, and a gut punch of arousal along with it, “Oh.” With your palm against his chest, you forced yourself up at the same time Yunho let you push him onto his back. You wasted no time in straddling his lap. You leaned forward, stretching yourself to place your hands over his eyes with a giggle. “I didn’t mean we had to do it right now!” he laughed, grasping your hands and removing them from his face to kiss your palms. Placing your hands on his stomach, you rolled your hips over his growing length, “Perhaps not, but I still want you right now.” His hands were already gripping your thighs the moment you moved against him. With a bite to his smirking lips, he followed your motions with actions of his own, “As you wish.”

So here you were, after careful planning and orchestration. Without letting them know the details of your plan, you made sure to enlist Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s help, or at least tell them you were trying to make plans for the evening on Yunho’s birthday. You didn’t expect any promises, but Seonghwa did text you this morning to tell you they would try to get him out on time.

You fold and unfold the long piece of silk in your lap, running your fingers over the smooth fabric and appreciating the pink color you chose. It matches the rest of the lace babydoll and panties that cover you.

Part of you is slightly nervous, while the other reminisces about all the reasons you shouldn’t be. Yunho has never been one to make you feel anything less than comfortable or wanted in your relationship, and sex between you is not new.

Perhaps your nerves are born of performance? You must be feeling this way because he specifically wanted this and if you don’t make it great for him then it will be a failure. Yunho has said the same thing to you many times, when he feels nervous about performing for his fans.

Just as you shake your head with resolve to make this wonderful for him, the bedroom door opens and you jump.

There he is, stopped in his tracks, standing with his hand still wrapped around the doorknob as he stares at you sitting there at the end of your bed.

“You’re home.” is what you say, trying to rebound off your surprise. You must have been so lost in thought you didn’t notice the sound of his arrival through the apartment. You don’t miss the way his presence seems to add a fond sense of ‘home’ to the room.

He gulps, an easy smile raising his cheeks. His duffel bag is tossed to the floor in front of the dresser and he closes the door, unzipping his training jacket until that too, is tossed to the floor.

“What’s all this?” he asks, standing in front of you. He dips low to capture your lips in a greeting, waiting for your answer when he regains his full height.

You goad him with a grin, “Why don’t you hurry up and shower so you can find out?”

Yunho’s brows lift momentarily as he turns toward the hamper, smirking back at you as he begins to undress. He takes a peek at your face with every piece that comes off, eating up the way your eyes ogle him in silence.

He checks just once more before ducking into the bathroom, making sure you’re staying put there on the bed.

You refuse to let your thoughts consume you anymore, enjoying the pleasant buzz that sizzles on your skin, left in the wake of his staring. Although it’s new, you were certain he would love this piece on you, having mentioned the few times you’ve worn lingerie, that he loves you most in soft colors that compliment your cuteness. Babydolls are your personal favorite, and he has agreed prior that they’re best for ease of access when he wants to fuck you while keeping something on.

You’re both laughing when your eyes meet after his shower. The unspoken acknowledgment that he’s probably broken a record for his shower time is funny to both of you.

He doesn’t bother with anything more than a towel around his hips, and you pluck it from his grip as soon as he is within reach, “You won’t be needing that.”

He smiles at you, allowing you to tug him forward onto the bed. Yunho’s fingers busy themselves with touching and pinching the lace that delicately hides your skin from him. He lifts the hem in his fist, watching it nearly float back down around you with a sigh.

He definitely loves it.

“I love this on you,” he admits a moment later, his eyes seeking yours. The tone of his voice always melts you like this- when it’s full of love and ardor.

You gesture towards the headboard, allowing him a moment to get comfortable in your requested position before you straddle him. He hisses at the contact of your covered heat against his length, half hard since he came out of the shower from anticipation alone.

Yunho reaches up, collecting you by the nape of your neck and urging you down so he can kiss you. His lips move against yours exactly how you like, slow and building. He does this sometimes, when he wants you to be putty in his hands- not that you ever resist.

Except, today you have to take some control. Pushing past the bubbling nerves in your gut, you lean back. He chases you- leaning forward and consuming you, adamant that he isn’t finished sampling you.

It pulls a gentle moan from your throat when he moves his lips down to it. He holds you in place, caged against his body with his own arms clutching you to him. Your eyes pop open, remembering not to get pulled under the waves of euphoria with him just yet. Today is about his pleasure.

“Yunho,” you say, but it comes out as a whine.

“Yeah, baby?” he coos back, still working his mouth against your neck.

A deep breath leaves you, “Stop for a second.”

Immediately he sits back, with eyes full of concern. He searches your face for any sign of discomfort, and his expression morphs into confusion, followed by realization a moment later when he notices the length of silk in your hands.

You lift it up between you, bashful and smiling. You’re eager for his reaction, and your boyfriend doesn’t disappoint.

“Is it my birthday?” he wonders aloud.

You snort a laugh at him, taking a playful swat at his chest, “It is, you dork.”

He gives you a dazzling, heart-clenching, silly grin at your response, “Oh, yeah.”

“Now sit still, please.” you instruct, unable to hide your growing smile at his immediate and eager obedience.

He waits, eyes closed, but unable to help the way his length twitches against your core as you wrap the silk over his eyes.

“All good under there? Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up?” you ask, not bothering to hold up any at all.

“No, but I can feel both your hands on me so nice try.” he says, and you can hear the shit-eating grin in his tone.

He earns himself a swipe of your tongue over his neck at his snarky remark, and the resulting sharp inhale you’re rewarded with is enough sweet justice for you.

He’s smiling when you pull away, tugging here and there to make sure it isn’t too tight nor too loose. He groans when you give him no warning and take his face into your hands, kissing him deeply.

You don’t stop your attention, kissing him until the sound of your lips feels deafening in the silence of the room. His hands grip your waist, gently rocking you back and forth along him in tandem.

It’s enough, you decide, when you break for air and he’s panting with flushed cheeks and heated skin. “Are you going to be okay, baby?”

He swallows thickly, then smiles, and you resist the urge to coo at the way his cheeks look rounder with the blindfold over his eyes. “Keep going.”

“Of course,” you comply in a sultry tone, “Just relax.”

He does as you’ve asked, allowing you to rise from his lap and push his legs apart further. He bites his lip with anticipation- feeling your weight dip the bed between his legs.

You enjoy the opportunity to tease, letting out huffs of your warm breath to ghost along his fully erect cock. He remains still and slack-jawed, awaiting your every movement. Unwilling to waste the moment, you admire him briefly- reclined on your bed, naked in all his glory. Yunho is gorgeous, but knowing he is just as beautiful beneath the surface makes your chest swell with great love.

The sight before you is something you aim to burn into memory for every sleepless, needy night that you miss him. His abs are taut, strained with anticipation and heavy breaths. His arms rest at his sides, feigning relaxation as his fingers dance with a stray thread on the blanket beneath him. His mouth is open just slightly and his brows are knit together in valiant concentration.

The part that pulls a low hum of appreciation from your throat is his full erection. Thick, red and leaking onto his abdomen, you’re spurred into action with the desire to see him a mess.

The first touch you deliver is a kiss, just on the edge of his hip. Slowly and deliberately, you firmly plant wet, open-mouthed kisses lower and closer to where he grows desperate for you. You’re paying attention to his reaction with every ministration and you must admit you are quickly becoming intoxicated with this game.

The power you feel, and how his every tiny reaction drives the spike of arousal deeper into your veins. He holds his breath, knowing the next place your lips will find is his cock if you keep going. With a tactical pause, you skip over it, smiling at his flushed cheeks, and let your lips flutter over the top of his thigh instead.

Yunho releases his held breath with a long and dour groan.

“Please don’t tease.” he whispers quietly, gasping when you suddenly rise up and lave the flat of your tongue around his left nipple. His hand jerks up with the desire to touch, but he resists. You didn’t ever tell him he couldn’t, but let him decide on his own what he wants to do. After all, this is about his pleasure.

The next moment you’ve swooped back down, gently taking the head of him into your mouth, and he reacts with a jerk of his hips and a loud moan. Garbled sounds of pleasure drop freely from his lips, his head thrown back as you take him as far back as you can.

The wet slurping is an erotic audio that pours heat into your own cheeks, and you can imagine that Yunho must feel like that sound is surrounding him with the subconscious focus of his ears.

“Oh, fuck baby… mmm, fuck.” he whines quietly when you use a hand to pump the base of his length that you can’t fit comfortably. He raises a hand again, and you watch as he bites his lip and resists the urge to tangle his fingers in your hair- instead balling a fist and settling it back at his side.

You continue like this for several minutes, switching your rhythm and pattern here and there to stroke or suck him the way you know he likes. When his breath is coming in ragged pants and his thighs begin the slightest tremble, you slow, and eventually release him.

Yunho’s protest is audible, and you cup his cheek at the adorable way his lips are pouted open and his brows are strung together with his plea.

“I want this to last.” you assure him, “It’ll be worth it.”

“Kiss me then,” he barters with you, breathless. His request is one you can comply with, planting a kiss directly to his lips and he tries so hard to kiss you into submission with his plush lips.

“That’s not fair,” you coo.

He smiles, shaking his head and leaning forward, “You’re not being fair.”

Leaning into him, you make sure to wrap your arms around his neck and whisper directly into his ear, “Don’t act like you didn’t want this.”

The resounding moan he tries to suppress is not lost on you, and he settled back with the clearing of his throat.

Straddling his thigh, you settle yourself in a comfortable position to kiss across his chest. Your mouth works higher until you’re biting gently at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He moans softly in reward, finally allowing himself the pleasure of your skin beneath his fingers, pacified with touching your thigh where it rests.

Your hand reaches down and you let your fingers wrap around his cock again at the same moment you gently suck on the place you’d just bitten. Your boyfriend is louder now, letting a throaty moan peel from his lips with your fist around his aching length.

He hisses when you repeat your marking a little higher, just below his ear. Yunho’s hand grips you tighter, letting it roam beneath the pretty lace, toward the fullness of your ass and digging his fingertips in to urge you into motion upon his leg.

“Fuck.” he whispers lowly on a breath as you set a rhythm with your fist once more. His head falls back against the headboard, his hips softly canting up with every pump.

As if he had intended it that way, his throat is now conveniently exposed for your lips and teeth. You want to make excellent use of his generosity, but the ache of emptiness in your cunt demands more attention.

Wordlessly, you sit up, shimmying yourself out of the matching panties and letting your knees settle on either side of his hips. Every rustle of fabric and movement you make is one that Yunho absorbs with great anticipation.

He doesn’t know exactly what you’re up to yet, but he can smell your perfume and your sex and feel your proximity over him. With wandering hands, he reaches out, tentatively, catching the left side of your waist first. All it takes is a simple swipe of his thumb and the comforting palm of his hand for him to realize exactly what part of your body he is holding, even through the lace.

That notion makes you softer for him, smiling sweetly at the dusty rose on his face as he reaches up to palm your breast. His free hand slides to your back, pulling you closer so he can attach his tongue to the nipple he’s found budding beneath the fabric of your lingerie.

The friction and heat makes you whine, admittedly turned on more than you thought possible with the addition of a simple piece of silk around Yunho’s head.

He spoils you with his hands now, roaming all over your curves, mostly followed by his mouth. He’s still short of breath, but smiles nonetheless when he locates at first your nose and then your lips with his own kisses. He doesn’t try any tricks this time.

His kiss pauses immediately when his hands, having wandered down and beneath the lacy fringe, find you bare. He groans at the feel of your skin, audibly basking in the pleasure it gives him to glide two fingers through your wetness with practiced ease.

Yunho dips one long digit into your heat, eating up the sound of your cry. Your hands hold him at his neck and his shoulder, leaning into his frame to stay steady. His face is less than an inch from your shoulder, and he takes advantage of the proximity to turn his head and capture the side of your neck with his mouth.

A second finger joins the first, gliding through your wetness and creating obscene squelching sounds with every thrust into your pussy. You’re beginning to lose yourself, completely indulged in the feeling of him absolutely everywhere.

He loves it just as much, groaning at the sounds you’re making just because of him.

“Does that feel good baby?” he suddenly asks, and the tone of his voice is absolutely sinful.

“Yes.” you whimper into his ear.

He grunts, “I’m gonna come if we keep playing like this.”

The admission is a tempting offer, but you don’t want to end the fun too early. Instead, you think it best to ask him, “What do you want me to do?”

He leans back again, reclining against the pillows, and you allow him to guide you now by feel. To do what he wants with you. “Why don’t you have a seat, baby?” he coos mischievously.

Teasing him further, you take advantage of the position and settle your core over his abs. He makes a sound in his throat akin to a growl and grabs your bottom with both hands and pulls you back into an upright position on your knees.

He kneads the malleable flesh for no longer than a second before he sits up straighter and tells you, “Sit on my cock.”

The dirty words leaving his mouth send sparks up your spine, and you do as you’re told. He’s already got one fist around the base of himself, aiding you in sliding down along the length he’s presented you with.

Watching his face contort with pleasure as you sink over him is by far one of your favorite parts of sex with your boyfriend. He’s so expressive, and the breathy moan that spills from his mouth when you’ve settled completely sends you halfway to heaven already.

Yunho is completely flushed, now. With the rosy tint creeping down his neck to his chest and the two small blooming violets you’ve given him, he adjusts to wrap one arm around your waist while the other is propped behind him on the bed so he can stay upright.

You set to work immediately, rolling your hips over him to a rhythm you can both enjoy. He’s panting again, stimulated to sensitivity from the restriction to his vision.

Mewling sounds leave your mouth, hanging open as you continuously spear yourself on his length. He gives a particularly hard thrust that sends you toppling forward onto his chest. As if he intended it that way, he naturally holds you against him and scoots down the bed- enough to plant his feet firmly so he can rock into you with more strength.

This position is your favorite and he knows it. The sound of your cries amplify with the angle of his cock into your depths, and the sounds are diving right into his ear. You’re rapidly approaching your orgasm in this position.

He grunts, baring his teeth as he thrusts into you roughly. “Fuck, Yuyu… oh my god, fuck, yes.” you breathe the words against him, and he delivers you a loud, rewarding groan.

“I can’t, oh fuck this is so good.” he praddles desperately, slowing to flip you onto your back.

He rips the silk away from his eyes, not bothering to toss it from his hand as his gaze finds your face. The mutually fucked out expressions you share spurs him on, working quickly to push your knee up to your shoulder as he drives his cock deeper into you.

The wildness in his eyes catches you off guard and he can feel your walls tightening around him. Yunho immediately places his thumb on your clit, sending you rapidly spiraling into euphoria. He wants to feel you come undone around him.

The added stimulation sends you over the edge and you seize up, crying out his name in a high-pitched moan.

He follows you on a ragged breath a moment later, unable to withstand the pleasure. He slows, thrusting steadily at a declining pace and strength until he’s spent, leaning over your frame with a blissful expression.

It takes several moments for you both you regain your breaths, and when Yunho finally slips from your core and rolls onto his side, you think he is simply stunning. You stay in your position for a few seconds longer, spying him as he throws his arm over his eyes and smiles.

“Mmm, baby, you’re amazing. That was...” he pauses to mull over choice words “Incredibly hot.” he breathes, slowly regaining a normal heart rate. You stir at his praise, finding enough strength in your jellied limbs to pull yourself against his chest.

“Did you like it?” you wonder, just to confirm what you already know.

He exhales a soundless laugh, lifting his arm just enough to grin at you, “That was some of the best sex we’ve ever had. Top three personal favorites.”

It’s a running joke between you to sometimes rank the best sex you’ve had together, and you giggle at his opinion, pleased with yourself.

“I put so much work into that, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He removes his arm finally, placing it around you instead. He squeezes you just enough that his lips can reach the crown of your hair. “Thank you.”

“Happy Birthday baby.” you finally say with a kiss to his lips.

It isn’t until four days later, the next time you see the rest of his group, that you’re made privy to the fact that he told them- in great detail- about the birthday gift he received from you when Wooyoung makes a joke about using the tie Yunho is wearing as a blindfold.

Your boyfriend fails to meet your sharp gaze when you look at him immediately after. It’s fine, you tell yourself. You’ll get your revenge.

“That’s alright,” you assure the group. “I’ll just have to use handcuffs on him next time, too.”

You keep a stone face until you catch Jongho’s head whip up at your statement, and the look of pure horror on his face sends you into a fit of laughter.

#yunho smut #ateez smut #ateez fanfiction #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #jeong yunho

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suganovakawa · 4 years ago

Text

જ — rumor has it!

# 17 ༉‧ yes or no

smau masterlist

✧ ｡ synopsis : though hajime has reassured you time and time again that you two attending different schools would be plenty manageable in your guys’ relationship, your imagination is left to wander when he slowly begins to ghost you.

જ — a/n : it’s finally here! sorry to keep you waiting :,)

— if you could, could you check out this google form for just a few moments of your time? it’s a surprise, but please choose five characters from that list. it would really help a lot!

out of all the places hajime could’ve taken you, you were not expecting an empty parking lot. previously, it belonged to a local grocery store a couple of years back, before it went out of business.

was it necessarily a bad place? of course not. nobody seemed to be around, so if you wanted to yell at him? you’d be able to without so much as batting an eyelash.

that seemed to be the least of iwaizumi’s worries as he turned off the car when he parked in a spot in the middle of the lot, his jaw clenched tightly as both of you sat in silence. not even the hum of the engine was there to alleviate the awkward tension.

“are we talking here, or are we talking outside?” you mustered the courage to speak first, watching as he jumped slightly at the sound of your own nervousness.

“it doesn’t matter. it’s up to you.” his voice seemed almost squeaky as he looked straightforward and out the windshield.

it was obvious the two of you were procrastinating on what was to come. you didn’t want to hear the truth, and hajime was afraid of facing the reality of the situation. the cat had to be let out of the bag one way or another. you had come this far already, there was no way in hell you would chicken out—not when the truth was sitting right next to you, right in the driver’s seat.

“hajime, just—just tell me what happened. please. pretending like it’s not going to hurt will just make both of our lives a living hell. i already know nothing will make this situation any better.” you couldn’t even look at him. your hands were rested on your lap, your fingers clenched tightly into fists. your palms were sweaty, and your stomach was running a mile a minute. what you were going through may not have even held a candle to what iwa was going through.

but iwaizumi isn’t the victim here. you are.

“where do you want me to start?” his voice was faint, weak—unlike anything you had ever heard before.

it was obvious he wasn’t going to confess to anything without a push in that direction.

you wanted to yell at him in frustration; it was going to bubble out of your throat any minute. but that wouldn’t help both of your situations.

well, it might help yours.

“did you do it?” if he was going to act stupid, might as well push him into a corner about it. enough was enough, your lack of patience outweighed any nervousness you once had. “just admit it, hajime. who is she?”

“were you the one who had karasuno go to the—”

“answer my question.”

he looked to you then—he turned pale at the angry look in your eyes. “stop acting like you have nothing to share. i know you better than that. we wouldn’t be here in the first place. you’re guilty of something, and i’ve been thrown into the loop of it, whether i wanted to be in it or not.”

it was then he started shaking. he wasn’t crying, no. this was fear, unyielding terror he held within the very marrow of his bones, eating him from the inside out. you were so close. so very close to getting the answer. this was either a yes or no, it had to be.

“i didn’t,” he finally mustered, leaning forward to grip the steering wheel with an iron grip. “y/n, you have to understand. i didn’t, i didn’t, i didn’t...”

“then who is she, hajime?” you couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, and it was eating at you. “who is the girl? why does she have my number? how does she have my number? what did she get out of exploiting whatever the two of you had, huh? i don’t get it.” so many questions, yet so few answers. “i genuinely don’t understand. i need your help in understanding. please.”

his hold around the steering wheel loosened, until he leaned back into his seat. you were getting more annoyed by the second, but you had said everything you needed to say.

“i didn’t do anything with her,” he repeated, swallowing a lump in his throat. in a matter of seconds, everything began to spill from his tongue. “she’s a family friend who moved to seijoh this year. i don’t know why she moved, when she had been attending shiratorizawa before now. my family asked me to show her around and whatnot, and i agreed to it because i know her, and she was new around school.”

he hesitated before continuing. “it was fine at first, then she asked for tutoring lessons, after school meetings, and all that. i kept saying no until she became so pushy that both her parents and mine told me to at least tutor her. so i did.”

that’s it? you were almost speechless at all this, all this frustration and fear in your system as he became silence once more. “tutoring lessons?” you asked, almost unbelieving of the words that had come out of your own mouth. “i don’t care about tutoring lessons, hajime. why couldn’t you have just told me?”

“because i slowly began to like the tutoring sessions, alright?” he shut you up with one sentence as soon as you started raising your voice. iwa's words hit you harder than expected, you backed up into your own seat as soon as he took a deep breath.

“i didn’t think i would start looking forward to them, but after a couple weeks, i began getting too comfortable. she became more down to earth than i thought she would be, and we became closer.” he buried his face in his hands, as if that would help him atone for his mistakes. “it had nothing to do with you. don’t think i got tired of you, because i would never, and i mean that. please—”

“would you have actually done anything with her if i never found out?” hajime’s eyes widened as your voice cracked, your arms wrapping around your own stomach in discomfort.

“y/n—”

“would you?”

“no.” not even a moment of hesitation. “i would never.”

“how can you be so sure?” you were angry, frustrated, confused—so many thoughts, so many questions... you were at a complete loss of words, yet too many were threatening to spill out all at once. “you were already comfortable with being able to see her more than you were able to see me. how can you say so easily that the thought of doing anything else with her never crossed your mind?”

“because i love you, not her.” his hand reached up to touch yours, but you moved away from him, as far away as you could in the passenger seat. he placed his hand back down into his pockets before continuing. “i’m not sure if you remember, but there was one night where you thought i was unwell, because i wasn’t texting like my usual self.”

you nodded silently to acknowledge your memory of that day. “that’s because it wasn’t me. that was her. i must’ve left my phone unlocked while i had left the dining room to turn on my car and she took it. by the time i dropped her off at home, you began messaging me about being bored of our relationship, because of how she had texted you. i was terrified that it had come to this, that i was too ashamed of myself to admit to what had been going on.”

“and the other ten minutes?”

“she forgot her homework at my house.”

you almost hated how his explanation fit perfectly into the entire situation. that would explain how she got your number. “i just... i don’t get why you had to hide all of this from me. don’t you trust me? have our years of being together not account for anything? do you really think i would care about tutoring lessons?”

“they weren’t supposed to be lessons. they turned from fifteen minute meetups to a scheduled hour almost everyday. i didn’t realize just how normal it had become for me until both you and oikawa began ignoring me.” you could tell he was having difficulty confessing to everything, but you weren’t going to stop until he coughed out every remaining detail out of him.

“...and the cafe?”

“i wanted to end everything, i swear. end the lessons, end anything that began to develop a deeper relationship.” iwaizumi shook his head at the thought and leaned his head against the headrest, staring up at the roof of his vehicle. “i wanted to do it without having to drag you into this mess, so that it would never happen again. then i saw karasuno walking out as soon as i was about to say something.”

“what did you do after they left?” that also lined up perfectly with what both sugawara and nishinoya told you that day.

“i still did it. i told her that our meetings were over and that i was no longer going to affiliate with her outside of school, or anywhere in general. i stood up and left before she could say anything.” he glanced in your direction and sat straight once more, his hands fidgety and his foot tapping lightly near the pedals. “that was that. i didn’t even drive her home. i drove back to my house and blocked her number. after thinking about my mistakes, i called you. then everything unfolded to now.” you were still trying to process everything that was just let out, and hajime slumped into his seat. “that’s it. that’s all that happened. you can even check my phone if you want.”

you didn’t want to see his phone. currently, you didn’t know what you wanted. part of you was thinking about getting out of his car and walking home. surely he didn’t think that just telling you the truth would be the answer to all of your problems?

“why are you sorry, hajime?” after more silence had filled the air, you pierced it with a needle. “that you got caught? that i found out? that you made a mistake? why?”

“because i let something so stupid drag out this far.”

“be honest with me.” you interrupted him before he could continue. “did you grow feelings for her at one point?”

“feelings?”

“you’re not naive. you know what i’m asking you.”

he hesitated, which was all the answer you needed. his silence was louder than any other response he could have given you. you were just heartbroken that absolutely none of this was your fault.

iwaizumi noticed your shift in emotion, and his voice cracked under the pressure of the situation, and you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep everything in. “i shouldn’t have let it come to this, and i know apologizing won’t change anything. but you have to believe that i never did a thing with her. and i don’t have feelings for her. none. the closest i ever got to her was accidentally touching the same pencil as her.” his tone became more desperate, he was losing whatever restraint he had left. “i swear, you don’t have to forgive me now, but please let me make it up to you eventually. i promise—”

“hajime, please drive me home.”

“what?”

“i said, please drive me home.” this really wasn’t a yes or no situation. everything about this was anything but yes or no.

he was unfaithful, but he wasn’t. he cheated... but did he really?

depends on your standpoint of cheating, isn’t it?

“thank you for telling me everything. i trust you enough to believe that what you said was the truth, but i just want to go home now. please.”

he didn’t respond to your monotone response, he knew that was the end of this conversation. with a heavy heart he started his engine and drove out of the empty parking lot, the space between you figuratively wider the longer you two remained in the same car together. the road stretched far ahead, you let your thoughts spin into an endless frenzy all the way back home. the noise in your head refused to subside as hajime parked in your driveway, changing the stick shift to park and unlocking the door.

you reached for the door handle to open it, but hesitated. was this really the end of you two? you didn’t know if it was or not—you didn’t know if you wanted it to be over. you still loved him. that feeling wouldn’t go away overnight. and while hajime made an extremely stupid mistake, you knew he loved you as well. but this was something that couldn’t be ignored. you couldn’t just pretend this never happened. you were better than that.

“i don’t know what’s going to happen yet,” you said truthfully, gathering the courage to turn around and look hajime in the eye. “i just want to think about it for now. that’s all.”

“take your time. i’ll always wait for you.” he sounded broken, but you had made up your mind. with only a simple nod to say goodbye, you opened the door without turning back, rushing back into your house before watching hajime drive away with a sharp pain in your chest.

what the hell are you gonna do now?

✧ ｡ taglist ( closed ) — @tris-does-stuff @solko @jaehyunluvcult @apricotjihyo @otaku-fangirlse @arolotte @froppysgirl @awkwardspontaneity @dekumiya @sayakaaaaaa @tsumuboke @vanilla-beanzz @roastedchikin @actheroic @youngestdelacour @saturnfaerie @karaseijoh @dicerawr @sun-daddy-yoriichi @bokutos-h0e @cloudykarasuno @emiyummy @nightskyerie @unstableye @bokuakadaily @arianatorgrand3 @eitadesu @dandelily @iiwah @prcttylittlcthing @ceeswrites-main @liliesofterainmain @jaegersblogh @tycrackculture @paintedstarres @cleopatera @fern-writes-ig @1987hotschott @momo-has-a-gun @sempiternal-amour @it-me-trash @ynjimenez @yeehawslap @moonlightaangel @sunflowerirl @tsumu-core @abswrites @kodzukrn @h0ngh0ngh0ng @kac-chowballs @creativedogs @kissungjae @danger093 @winunk @agaassi @ntngann @elianetsantana @toffees-main @kokogxddess

+ continued in the comments!

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nctsworld · 5 years ago

Text

fire alarm

✩ mark x reader | college au | fluff | 1.7k

SUMMARY ⇾ when your dorm building’s fire alarm goes off in the middle of the night and everyone’s outside, you offer to share your blanket with your shivering, cute neighbour. WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, couple of swear words RATING ⇾ teen+

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

You started to drift into deep sleep when the sudden blares of the dorm’s fire alarm stirs you awake.

Your groans are muffled in your pillow, frustrated that this is probably another false alarm like usual. With heavy eyes, you rush to grab your phone and keys, stuff your feet into your shoes, and waddle among the crowd of students, departing the building with your blanket over your shoulders as a make-shift jacket.

The moment you reach the front of the building where everyone safely coalesces, you glance at your phone as you tug at the ends of your blanket around your chest. 3:08am glows back at you, along with a couple other notifications. You barely get the chance to check them since the blatant chattering of teeth nearby catches your attention instead.

Your gaze rests on the familiar figure a few steps beside you, rubbing his arms up and down while his legs tremble. Peering around, you realize you’re one of the few who brought more than a jacket for extra warmth during this chill, autumn night. On the other hand, he’s one of the few who hardly had any layers, solely wearing a baggy red t-shirt and a pair of boxers.

His face swivels side to side, searching the crowd, and it dawns on you that it’s none other than your next door neighbour, Mark.

His dorm room was to the left of yours. You’ve only interacted with him in passing, regularly acknowledging each other with casual nods and smiles. His sweet smile never failed to make your heart race and to make the corners of your mouth widen further. You didn’t know much about him, except for the fact he played guitar since you occasionally heard him play late at night.

You always wanted to get to know him, but neither of you shared the same classes nor were you in the same clubs. To make matters worse, the only time you saw one another was when either of you were coming or going.

Perhaps now was the time to finally make a move.

Lifting your blanket off the pavement, you shuffle your way towards him. As you near him, it clicks in your head that you didn’t initially recognize him because, besides the lack of clothes and the slightly messy hair, he’s wearing glasses to boot.

“Hey, neighbour.”

Mark stops his searching and his focus lands on you. The handsome individual steps closer to shorten the space between you, displaying his signature smile. You grip onto your blanket tighter and the weight of your shoulders droop, allowing your face to shyly sink into the sea of fabric covering you.

The shivering man says your name and replies with a cool, “Hey.”

“Do you want to share the blanket with me?”

“Oh, no. It’s okay, I’m all right,” he stammers with a shake of his head, continuing to rub his arms.

You perk an eyebrow and open one of your arms out, offering him the promise of warmth.

Beaming, you say, “There’s enough room for another.”

His mouth twists to one side of his face, the gears in his head obviously turning.

“Are you sure?”

A hum, nod, and a grin answer his uncertainty. Mark swiftly grasps onto the end of the blanket and wraps himself over his shoulder. Although the heat from the front of your body flees due to the partial sacrifice of your cover, you’re now having an extra source of heat from being right next to Mark, touching shoulder to shoulder.

“Thanks,” he bobs his head. “I appreciate it. I just bolted out of bed and didn’t think of even bringing a jacket.”

“That’s okay, that’s why you have me,” you joke, swaying and pressing your shoulder lightly against his.

Both of you chuckle softly. There’s something else to add to the list of things that are keeping you warm—the prickling rising from your chest to your cheeks.

You then comment, “I’ve never seen you with glasses before. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Ah, yeah, I wear contacts during the day. Depending on stuff, I sometimes wear my glasses, but not as often.”

“Well, I think you look good either way.”

Your eyes practically fall and roll away from your head, cognizant of the words that just escaped your mouth.

“I mean—” You snap your eyes shut for an extended beat, not wanting to see the look on your next door crush’s face. “You know what, let’s just pretend I didn’t say that out loud.”

Exhaling a lengthy sigh, you turn to face the opposite direction, now regretting your offer to share your blanket with him.

Your regret leads you to miss the way his face lights up.

“Hey, no, thanks for the compliment.”

Under the blanket, his fingers gingerly graze over yours for a fleeting moment, which causes you to shift your head towards him again. The tips of your noses are almost touching. His twinkling eyes are locked on you, but yours are veering everywhere else except on him.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you look good too.”

With that, your gaze finally lands on Mark.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You want to continue the conversation, you really do, but you’re at a loss of words and are too busy getting lost in the galaxy of his eyes from up-close. From the way he’s not tearing his eyes away either, a little part of you wonders if he harbours an infatuation with you as well. He couldn’t possibly, right?

Despite being practically strangers, the silent, intense aura blooms as time passes. Your respective breaths brush against each other’s lips and it’d be so easy to just lean in to meet the other’s—

Suddenly, the tension is cut short as everyone begins to sluggishly amble their way back into the building.

Although nothing really transpired, you break apart simultaneously like someone caught you two doing something you shouldn’t. Mark lets you have your blanket all to yourself once more and both of you head back side by side in comfortable silence.

After walking up the flight of stairs, trailing behind all the other residents of the building, you finally reach your respective doors.

“It was nice to see you,” you say, pulling your keys out and inserting the fitting one into your lock.

“Yeah, thanks for sharing your blanket with me. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime, neighbour,” you glance up at him from your hand. His whole body faces you and his mouth is agape like he’s itching to say something. On second thought, he presses his lips together and feels around his body for his keys. Realization hits him in the face.

“Shit,” he bangs his forehead against the door, deterring you from entering your home abode. “I forgot my keys inside.”

Mark turns to you with a scrunched face. Even in a state of frustration, how could someone be so cute? “Sorry to ask, but can I borrow your phone?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” You don’t hesitate to scramble and hand it over to him.

He mumbles a quick thanks, rubbing the back of his head. When he finishes entering a number to dial-in, he holds the phone against his ear and leans the side of head against his door, still facing you. You stand there awkwardly, eyes wavering between the adorable phone borrower and the handful of people in the hallway trickling back into their dorms.

After the third unanswered ring, a bold offer impulsively escapes your lips.

“You know, you can stay at my place overnight if you need to.”

Oh, no. Shit. Why brain, why?

You don’t register your brazenness until the fifth ring, when Mark’s jaw is hanging and his eyebrows are glued to the ceiling. Okay, maybe you can save the moment by saying it was a joke or—

“Hello?” you overhear a muffled grumble on the other end.

The shock dissolves away from his face. “Oh, hey. Sorry to wake you, Johnny. It’s Mark…”

Utter embarrassment. This time, you can’t save yourself from your impetuous words. Millions of possibilities run through your mind, including abandoning your phone for him to keep and then moving to another building. No, moving to another college. Actually, Mars sounds like an even better idea.

You’re so deep in your overdramatic thoughts, your face in a pinch behind your blanket, that you don’t even realize Mark’s already done with his call.

“Thanks.” His voice breaks you away from your thoughts, eyelids shooting open. He must’ve stepped closer while you weren’t looking because he’s now in front of you, dangling your device from his fingertips. You gently grasp the phone, jointly holding it with him.

“And about your offer…” You cringe, ready for him to ignore your existence until the end of time. You officially ruined everything, and nothing has even happened yet.

“How about we go on a date first?”

Your head shoots up at his proposition. Did you hear that right?

“Then, maybe when the fire alarm goes off again next time and I forget my keys, I’ll take you up on it.”

It could be because it’s almost 4am and you’re teetering on sleep, or you’re purely stricken, but all you could do is nod mindlessly and squeak, “Sure.”

A heartstopping smile rolls over his face. “I was hoping you’d say that. I took the liberty of adding myself to your contacts and sent a text to my phone.”

Mark releases your phone from his grip and begins to walk backwards towards the stairs, suppressing his desire to stay with you for a little while more. But, it’s late and it’s not like this was the last time he’d see you. You are neighbours after all.

Waving, he whisper-shouts in the hallway, “I’ll text you back first thing when I can. Have a good night!”

You subtly wave back, still huddling your blanket over your shoulders. When he disappears from your line of sight, you enter your room and flop onto your bed with a jubilant sigh.

Following knocks at his door, a slit-eyed Johnny is welcomed by a vivacious friend. Too vivacious for 4am.

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. Remember that cute neighbour I’ve been telling you about?...”

Maybe (and thankfully) there wasn’t an actual fire, but another one was certainly beginning to kindle.

And neither of you had the intention of extinguishing it any time soon.

#mark #mark lee #mark lee fluff #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nctcreations #mark x reader #mark lee x reader

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miyagihawk · 4 years ago

Note

for hawk

lover of mine - 5sos

it's a selfship anthem, bby!

the lyrics make so much sense

i love 5sos!!!! ty for the request :)

lover of mine | eli “hawk” moskowitz x reader

warnings: cursing, i think that’s it?

summary: based on lover of mine by 5sos <3

Lover of mine

Maybe we'll take some time

Kaleidoscope mind

Gets in the way

Your relationship with Hawk was more complicated than most.

You had to be patient with him. His mind was like a kaleidoscope; his thoughts were in intricate patterns that you could never comprehend. It amazed you, but it also frustrated you when you couldn’t understand him.

And when it seemed like you finally did understand, he would shift into new colors and you’d have to start all over again.

“I just- I don’t get you, Hawk! Why are you always lying to me?” you said loudly, already feeling exhausted from the argument.

“I’m not! You just never believe me!” he turned it on you. Like always.

You looked at him with a hard stare and crossed your arms. “Did you or did you not break Demetri’s arm?” you asked in a calmer, but still threatening tone.

You already knew the answer; everyone was talking about what happened in the laser tag room. But here Hawk was, denying it. You just couldn’t grasp why he hid so much from you.

When he stayed silent with his gaze not meeting yours, you sat on your bed with an exasperated sigh.“We should take a break,” you interrupted the quiet atmosphere, looking up at where your boyfriend stood in front of you.

“What?” Hawk finally met your eyes with a hurt expression.

You patted the spot on the bed next to you, and he sat reluctantly. “I’m just tired. We need a break Hawk.”

“We don’t need a break,” he protested quietly, and the subtle sadness in his voice was enough to make your heart pang with hurt.

Hope and I pray

Darling, that you will stay

Butterfly lies

Chase them away

He was scared. Even through all the countless arguments and lies, you never left. Now you were suggesting a break, and Hawk knows from seeing other relationships that they always just end in an actual break up.

In a weird way, you did want to scare him. Because he would never change if you didn’t. You hated the idea of a break, but maybe Hawk would finally stop lying to you if you showed him you were serious.

“It’s not a breakup,” you assured, because you knew what he was thinking. For once. “We just need time apart for a little bit. To think.”

“About what?” he asked defensively, starting to raise his voice again.

“You and I. We’re quite toxic, you know?” you contrasted his volume in a lighter tone, making his face relax and his lips turn up a bit.

His small smile dropped suddenly, replaced by an anxious expression. “Don’t leave me Y/N.”

Your heart dropped at his words, and you wanted to wrap your arms around him. To tell him you’d never leave and that it was all okay. But it wasn’t all okay.

You grabbed his hand instead, “You’re my best friend. I love you. But I need this, okay? We both do. Just some time to figure out how we can fix... us.”

“I can fix it now, we don’t need to take a break. Please. I’ll never lie to you again. I just- I hate disappointing you,” he pleaded, tightening his hand around yours, and you wanted to give in.

But you knew that letting this go on, this never ending cycle, would only end with the both of you in a huge crash and burn.

“You said that last time,” you gave him a sad smile. “Let’s just figure our shit out, and then come back better for each other. We need this Hawk.”

6 months later

Things didn’t end so well after your break with Hawk. After spending some time apart, you two were just never close again.

None of you planned for it to happen; you just drifted away from each other. And neither of you exactly established when the “break” would be over.

So for the next few months, you passed each other in the halls without any acknowledgment of the other’s existence. Of course you missed him, but not being with him just became the new normal. And you accepted it and pushed your feelings aside.

“So you’ll meet us there? You sure you don’t want the limo to pick you up?” your friend Cara asked from across the lunch table.

“Yeah don’t worry about me, Jesse’s picking me up,” you replied, making the rest of your friends wiggle their eyebrows teasingly.

“What happened to prom with the girls, Y/N? I thought we established no boyfriends during prom season,” Cara pouted playfully, and you elbowed her in the ribs.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He just asked me to prom and that’s it,” you corrected.

Your other friend jumped in, “And why not? Jesse is so cute.”

As she asked, your eyes trailed away from your friends and towards a certain someone with loud red hair, sitting across the room with his karate posse.

Your group noticed your lack of attention and turned to see what you were looking at. They sighed in unison, making you bring your focus back to them.

“He’s why, isn’t he?” Cara gave you an understanding smile and rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. “It’s okay. Just have fun tonight.”

You only nodded, giving your kind friends a soft smile of appreciation.

As much as you tried to convince yourself that you’ve moved on fully, the boy with a kaleidoscope mind would always have a place in your heart.

Where is he?

You paced around your living room anxiously, checking your phone for what seemed like the millionth time in the past hour.

You scrolled through the numerous texts you’ve sent, contemplating if you should send another one. Calling him wasn’t even an option; it went straight to voicemail everytime.

After an hour and a half, you gave up waiting and hoping that your prom date would show up. You flopped down onto the couch despairingly, replying to worried texts from your friends.

‘I’m not going to make it, just don’t worry about me. Have fun my loves.’ you typed, throwing your phone onto the floor right after.

You didn’t want to ask them to pick you up and ruin their night, and you were honestly too drained from being stood up to call an Uber.

So prom night ended up with you spread out on the couch with your outfit that you’ve planned out months ago, eating out of a carton of rocky road ice cream.

Honestly, it could’ve been worse. You could’ve been spending the night with an absolute jerk named Jesse. (a/n: so sorry if ur name is jesse lmao)

In the middle of your rom com movie marathon, an abrupt knock at the front door made you sit up from your pathetic, ice cream eating position on the sofa.

Immediately, you turned off the TV and tiptoed towards the door. You silently grabbed the baseball bat next to it, while squinting to see through the peephole.

Your stomach immediately dropped when you saw him.

Clad in a black suit, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

Shifting on his feet and chewing on his lip nervously, as he waited for you to open the door.

The boy you didn’t know you needed to see until now.

What is he doing here?

You covered your mouth in shock as you ran to the mirror to check if you had chocolate stains around your mouth. You smoothed down your hair and straightened out your dress in a frenzy, before unlocking the door with a deep breath in.

“Hawk?” you tried to act surprised, which wasn’t hard because your heart was racing.

He took a second to look at you in your wasted prom attire, and he was locked in a trance for a second before he snapped out of it. “Oh... uh, these are for you,” he held out the flowers to you and you took them with a smile.

“Wow, I love them. Thank you,” you brought them up to your nose for a whiff of your favorite floral scent. “So, what are you doing here?” you asked awkwardly.

“Oh crap, sorry, do you want to come in?” you said before he would answer, and you opened the door wider so he could step inside.

Hawk looked around the room where he’s been countless times, and he frowned at the sight of 13 Going On 30 paused on the screen with half melted ice cream on the coffee table. That movie plus the sweet dessert was your absolute comfort pairing, and it made him sad that you needed it.

“Cara texted me, and I was worried,” he finally spoke, answering your earlier question. You suddenly felt embarrassed as you placed the bouquet in a vase. You didn’t want to be pitied. Especially by your ex-boyfriend.

“I’m fine,” you said bluntly, busying yourself with the flowers so that you wouldn’t have to face him. You hadn’t talked to him since the night you suggested the break, and you already felt too exhausted from tonight’s events to even talk about it with him. “It’s better that I didn’t go to prom with that dick.”

Hawk chuckled at your remark, and you felt more at ease. The tension between you was thicker than an iceberg, and you didn’t know if you could handle it.

“So did you leave? Or are you just dressed up like that for me?” you smiled, sitting down on the couch where he followed.

He laughed again, lightening the mood even more. “I was there, but you know, Cara told me about what happened and... I just felt like I needed to come. It was lame though. The whole thing is just dancing. And I don’t dance,” Hawk explained, and you found yourself smiling at the thought of him caring about you. “But I know how excited you were about prom, so I thought I’d bring it to you. Some romantic shit like that.”

Your eyebrows raised at “romantic shit”, but you decided not to say anything about it. Although, it did make your cheeks heat up and you hoped he didn’t notice. “That’s really sweet Hawk. Thank you. Really,” you placed your hand on top of his, but you recoiled awkwardly because it felt too intimate, given the circumstances.

You cleared your throat, “So... since you’re bringing prom to me, does that mean I get a dance?” you got up and stood in front of him with your arms playfully crossed.

Hawk squinted his blue eyes at you, crossing his arms as well, “I don’t dance, remember?”

“For me you will, right? Or I could just, you know, dance by myself. It’s already been such a great night for me,” you teased, walking away from him towards a clear space in the living room.

He groaned from behind you and got up to follow, making you cheer happily. “For you I will,” he stated under his breath, releasing dozens of butterflies in your stomach.

Dance around the living room

Lose me in the sight of you

I've seen the red, I've seen the blue

Take all of me

You turned on your Dad’s old record player, where a slow, jazzy, 60s vinyl was spinning. You almost wanted to change it because it felt too romantic, but Hawk was already waiting behind you and you were scared he would change his mind.

The rush his presence gave you made you boldly put your hands on his shoulders, and he stiffly placed his own on the curve of your waist. Your hands were locked at the nape of his neck; his hold on you was light as if you were fragile china.

You forgot how intoxicating it felt to be this close to him, and you wondered how you went so long without that feeling.

The both of you swayed to the smooth melodies of Nina Simone with interlocked eyes, and with every second his hands on your hips became more relaxed. You rested your head on his chest, pulling him closer.

For a song or two, none of you said anything; there was just an unspoken appreciation of each other’s presence. After 6 months without him, you needed this.

I'll never give you away

'Cause I've already made that mistake

If my name never fell off your lips again

I know it'd be such a shame

When I take a look at my life

And all of my crimes

You're the only thing that I think I got I right

“I should’ve never let you go,” Hawk whispered close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I was the one who wanted the break. It’s my fault,” you opposed, lifting your head up from his chest to look up at him.

He raised one of his hands to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, and it brought a warm smile to your face. “But I didn’t chase after you,” his lips turned down into a frown.

You put your hands on the sides of his face while you two continued to sway to the staticky vinyl. “Maybe it’s both of our faults,” you laughed lightly, touching his soft skin.

“It’s me Y/N. I’m the one who lied to you throughout the whole relationship. I’m so sorry,” Hawk looked down at you with glossy eyes. “I’ve done so much fucked up shit. But you’re the only thing I got right. I hate myself for ruining it too.”

Your felt yourself melt at his confession. “It’s not ruined,” you disputed. “You aren’t perfect and I’m not either. I shouldn’t have given up on us. I’m sorry.”

He closed his eyes in peace as your hands ran through his bright hair. It was down from its usual style, giving him a softer look.

“Maybe we both messed up. But I’m never giving you away again Y/N. I won’t make that mistake. I love you,” the boy you’ve missed for months admitted, saying everything you wanted to hear.

You kissed him in reply.

a/n: ah idk if i like this but i hope u do, i feel like my writings are getting repetitive im having bad writers block (as u can tell by how slow im doing requests)

#cobra kai #eli moskowitz #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz x reader #hawk imagine #hawk x reader #cobrakai

370 notes · View notes

plutonianrising · 4 years ago

Text

while the cat’s away a.k/k.k

pairing: akaashi x kenma x f!reader

wc: 4.5k

description: akaashi shouldn’t have left his two brats home alone for so long

a/n: this was v much inspired by that “i think you deserve two boyfriends” tiktok so thank that guy for this

cw: fem!reader, dom!akaashi, switch!reader, switch!kenma, established poly relationship, safe word check-ins, rules, overstimulation, degradation, humiliation, threesome, cum-eating, aftercare implied

MINORS DNI PLS

Sometimes it can get boring when it’s just you and Kenma at home for the day. You know he’s usually busy streaming and it's usually fine since Keiji keeps you entertained. However, this morning Keiji insisted on handling the grocery shopping alone, saying it’d just be a quick in-and-out trip and he didn’t want Kenma to wake up left by himself. It was hours later now and Kenma had kissed you good morning and swiftly turned to his games. Even on his “day off” he’s playing with some of his friends. You’re kicking yourself now for having recently bought his current fixation.

“Kyaaannmaaaa” you whine loudly and flop onto his lap. He doesn’t even acknowledge you as he moves his controller closer to his face. It’s almost like you’re not even there. You wouldn’t even be sure that he noticed you if it weren’t for the faint furrow in his brows and grimace on his lips.

“Kenma you’ve been playing since you woke up. Can’t you take a little break? I don’t even think I’ve seen you eat yet,” you try to command even just a bit of his attention.

“I’m not hungry.” He grumbles. “And can’t you see I’m in the middle of a match? I can’t just leave whenever.”

Your pouting turns to a full-blown scowl as his eyes leave his game for a moment to peek down at you; he realizes how quickly you’re reaching the threshold of your patience.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry. I know you hate when I play on my days off. Just sit in my lap and we’ll go do something else once this round finishes.” He backtracks. You roll your eyes but maneuver yourself so that you're straddling him with his arms around your waist and yours around his shoulders. You lean your head in the crook of his neck, gaining comfort from the smell of his shampoo even while your boyfriend is annoying the shit out of you.

“You said one more match like 3 matches ago. I thought we had a rule about lying.” You say even though you know he really isn’t listening to you. You can faintly hear one of his friends talking in his headset. You thread your fingers through his grown-out hair absent-mindedly and open your phone with your other hand to text Keiji.

Kenma broke a rule. I’m gonna punish him. See you when you get home x

You’ve barely sent the message before you’re pressing down on his lap a little harder. You wiggle your ass as if feigning trying to get comfortable. You shift Kenma’s headset so that he can hear you whisper in his ear.

“Kenmaaa…” You trail off. “What happened to no lying hmm?” He stiffens and a cruel smile creeps its way onto your face. You place a hand on his chest and continue playing with his hair with the other, trying to coax him. You both know he can’t say anything with his friends on the other side and you relish in the fiery glare he shoots you.

You love how easy Kenma is to fluster. A breathy whisper against his neck. A sharp nip at his neck. It takes little to nothing to set him off. Even when you’re being punished and are forced to simply watch Keiji take him relentlessly. Kenma is breathtaking to you. When he’s annoying you. When he’s shyly grabbing your hand or Keiji’s to fall asleep. When he’s fucked out beyond recognition. At this point you’re probably obsessed over even the red that tints his ears when he begins getting overwhelmed.

Sometimes you have to pay for your teasing but you know today at least, you’re fully in command. You know Kenma is too stubborn to shut off his game in the middle of a match with everyone on. After 3 years with him and Keiji, you know he’s a high-risk-high-reward kind of person. He was going to try his hardest to get through whatever you put him through without making a sound. Double or nothing.

“You remember how to tell me to stop, right?” You whisper again and press a kiss to his ear. Kenma nods.

“Hmm I wonder if I should make you say it out loud with everyone on call? Yea they’d think it’s random but better safe than sorry right?” You tease him. He shivers and goosebumps appear on his skin as you lightly drag your nails up his neck. He grunts softly and rolls his hips up to press against you. His eyes are begging you to drop that idea. Your wicked smile grows and you peck his lips.

“You’re right baby. There’s already plenty of time to embarrass you. Don’t forget to talk to your friends on call Kenma. Wouldn’t want them thinking something happened to you.” You chuckle darkly.

You place your hands under his shirt and slowly slide up until you reach his nipples. They’re already hard from the chill of your room paired with his thin t-shirt. You press against one, softly toying with it with the pad of your finger. You watch as he tries to remain stone faced. His ears are a dead giveaway, though. You kiss all over his neck as he responds to someone. They’re feather-soft teases. You want him to have to beg to be marked by you.

“Kenma you’re so greedy..” You growl and pinch his nipple. He startles a bit at the surprise but quickly regains his composure. “You wanted this didn’t you? Too shy to say outright you wanted me to fuck you while you played?”

“Or is it that you just like riling me up?” You tease him by grinding down onto his hardening dick. You roll both his nipples between your fingertips now, occasionally pinching them.

“Wanted the best of both worlds and even while I’m giving it to you, you can’t even be bothered to make those cute sounds you know I like so much.” You sigh, feigning sadness. You grind against him harder as you play with his nipples. You tease him further by kissing up his neck. It’s hard not to relish in his slight trembles when you blow cool air against his ear. While your focus is mostly on pleasuring Kenma, you cannot help the soft sighs that escape you. Seeing him struggle to control the stuttering of his hips only eggs you on.

“How loud do you think I can be before they can all hear me?” You smirk and let out a quiet moan. Kenma’s eyes widen in panic and he slaps a hand over your mouth quickly. You slowly lick his palm while you maintain eye contact. His golden eyes are transfixed on yours, searching for any measure of mercy. He was kidding himself thinking he would find any. Many sessions with Keiji had trained you to follow through when you committed to something.

Kenma slowly pulls his hand away from your face and you lean in closer. Your lips are just barely brushing against his as you mutter “Either you beg for me with everyone on the call. Or I just keep cumming by myself.”

He knows it’s a promise and not a threat. In terms of stamina, you have always had him beat, making over stimulating him a pretty frequent occurrence. At the beginning he and Keiji would switch out when it got to be too much for him but you two quickly learned that even with tears streaming down his face, his one thought is to satisfy you. You grab his face with one hand, squishing his cheeks a little. With the other you cover his mic. “What’s our word so I know you know it?”

“It’s peaches. I’m ok. I want this,” he rushes out quietly, growing even redder. It’s this neediness that you so deeply craved. Kenma was quiet but he wasn’t exactly shy. When he really wanted something, he would push past his reservations to get it. And finally, right now, he wants you more than anything else.

You finally kiss him deeply and Kenma reciprocates eagerly. To your content, his hips roll harder against you when your tongue enters his mouth.

“Kenma? Why aren’t you moving, let’s go!” You hear someone say. You pull away from Kenma so that he can answer and he furrows his brow, obviously not ready for it to be over.

“Lev maybe if you quit worrying about what I’m doing you’d get more kills.” He quietly snips. You wince and giggle at his harsh tone, almost feeling bad about being the reason behind his expression. You lean close so you can speak into Kenma’s mic and as you talk you’re also taking a beat to fully appreciate how flushed and pretty Kenma looks. His mouth is wet and slightly pink and though his eyes are half-lidded he’s looking at you with full expectancy. It’s enough to pierce your heart. You aren’t sure if you’re actually punishing him or spoiling him rotten.

“Sorry about that boys” You giggle into the mic. Kenma’s mouth twitches downward a little when he hears how his friends’ react to your voice on mic. “Please forgive Kenma, I distracted him a little.”

You don’t really pay attention to how they respond, turning your focus to slipping off Kenma’s boxers and your panties. You toss them somewhere across the room. As you slick Kenma’s dick with your wetness, it crosses your mind that Keiji could come home at any moment. You haven’t even looked to see how Keiji responded to your text. You’re probably screwed if he told you to wait until he gets back but you can’t focus on that with Kenma looking at you so eagerly, using every inch of his self-control to not fuck up into you.

Placing him at your entrance, you hold his gaze as you slide onto him. You take him all the way, forcing yourself to be just as quiet as he is. You let him try and focus on his game as you slowly roll your hips, silently screaming at how full he makes you feel. You fixate on the way his brows furrow and his breath quietly hitches. Kenma’s face is fully flushed as you ride him, not willing to give in or lose his game. You smirk and turn around slightly to look at his game. It brings you a weird sense of satisfaction that, even though he’s playing like normal, his dick is already twitching like he’s close.

“Kyanma when’d you get so sensitive?” you tease quietly. “You been secretly touching yourself recently? Huh?”

“I-I” he begins to stutter out indignantly, trying not to pant too loudly. You cover the mic one more time. “I w-wouldn’t dare. J-just feels too good.”

You continue rolling your hips, reaching up with your other hand to palm your own breast. You don’t even try to resist the tightness building inside you. You let out a low moan as you shudder around him, your walls clenching around Kenma’s dick so deliciously that you can see the air choked in his throat as he stifles his own moans. As promised, you fuck him through your orgasm. His trembling makes it so much harder for you to relent. You want him to cum so badly, forcing you to turn off his game and fuck him until he’s a sobbing mess.

He does so almost as soon as the almost obsessive thought crosses your mind. He holds you tight against him and buries his face in your collar, biting down hard in a final act of defiance. You yank Kenma’s head back by his hair and he’s glaring at you like his face and chest aren’t completely flushed and his pupils aren’t blown out. You let go of his hair and simply smirk and your anger makes it so much more fun to force shut down his computer.

You wrap a hand around his neck and squeeze. “Kenma’s been such a naughty fucking kitty today haven’t you?”

You slam down on his dick again and Kenma moans loudly this time. You aren’t sure if it’s from the pain of being overstimulated or simply the fact that he no longer faces the threat of embarrassment. Regardless, you know he’s going to be begging for that feeling again by the time you’re through with him.

You hear the front door of your apartment open and the familiar jangle of Keiji’s keys and soft footsteps. Keiji’s home but he puts the groceries away first. You know this is him giving you both time to collect yourselves and be on your knees somewhere for punishments. You know this but Kenma doesn’t look keen on moving and your heart is already beating in anticipation at how much further you could take this.

You hear Keiji’s footsteps grow louder and in seconds he’s right in front of you, analyzing what he’s seeing: an unplugged computer, Kenma slowly regaining his composure, and you right in his lap, lazily looking over at him with a smug little smile on your face.

“Hey baby.” You can tell from one look what Keiji told you in response to your text. You can't help the way your body shudders in expectancy as he stares at you sternly. You kiss Kenma’s neck gently as you meet Keiji’s gaze, knowing full well you won’t be ready for the punishments he will be handing out.

“You had no intention of listening to me, did you?” Keiji says fondly as he walks over and stands behind you. He slides his hands around you: one pulling your against him, the other guiding your head up. His touch is gentle, his fingers moving you more so as a suggestion than a command. You struggle to keep your eyes open and on his beautiful features. Dark hair that curls in the strangest spots fell slightly forward. The sharpness in his deep blue eyes contrasts the loving way he strokes your cheek.

“Mmm… not really. Mmsorry ‘Kaashi but it’s so… much easier to just ask you for forgiveness. You’re so sweet to us.” Your words slur a bit and you smile up at your other boyfriend. You secretly wonder if you’re making the right call by pushing his buttons further. But oh well.

“Oh it's so much easier is it?” Keiji asks, his voice takes on an icy tone. He finally glances towards Kenma, slightly dazed as he watches you both. “Kenma do you agree?”

You all know that no matter what Kenma says, he’s already in deep shit for going along with you. However, there is still a right and wrong answer. He could either a) agree and punish you with Keiji and receive a lighter punishment or b) side with you. The two of you make eye contact as he weighs his options. Memories of you sandwiched between them, mind hazy as they treated you like little more than a toy flood you. You vividly remember the time Keiji sent you over the edge repeatedly while you choked on Kenma’s dick, tears forming from how desperate for air you were. And the way they gazed down at you with your panties shoved in your mouth, so fully focused on making you scream that you feel like you’d been caught by two beasts.

You would never openly admit how much option A makes your mouth water but you don’t have to. Kenma doesn’t miss the way your thighs try to squeeze together, only to be met by his in between. Or the way your breathing has slightly picked up again. Or how you tightened around his still-sensitive dick the moment the thought crossed your mind.

“Yea ‘Kaashi… you’ve been really nice lately.” Kenma looks between you both and smiles before pressing close and embracing you. He holds onto part of your shirt and nuzzles into your neck. You don’t care if he was saying we’re in this together or I'm not letting you get all the attention after you ruined my game. Regardless, you still get to see Kenma trembling right next to you with puffy lips slightly parted, ready to beg, ready to need, ready to please.

Keiji stifles a laugh behind you, covering it quickly before petting both you and Kenma’s hairs. “I didn’t realize I’d been so gracious to my little brats. I guess that means you think it’s finally my turn for a reward?”

“What do you want us to do Master?” You ask coyly.

“Well for one I want you two properly seated somewhere on the floor.” Keiji says coldly. He moves away and you and Kenma quickly take your places. On your knees. Eyes expectant.

“Kitty you look like she put you through hell” Keiji coos at Kenma, looking down at him while he strokes his cheek. You huff.

“I didn’t even-”

“Did I say you could speak sweetheart?” Keiji cuts off your attempt to explain and you know better to try any further. He doesn’t even need to look towards you to keep you in check “Kenma. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened.”

“S-she got mad at me for being on my game so long that she rode me while my mic was on and wouldn’t let me c-cum unless I… begged with everyone on the line.” Kenma looks up at Keiji pleadingly.

“And did you?” Keiji prods.

“D-did I?” Kenma splutters in surprise. The red flush on his body seems permanent at this point.

“Well you obviously came. I can still see it leaking out of her all over our floor. So. Did you beg?” Keiji doesn’t let Kenma avoid his gaze, leaning forward with a firm grip on his cheeks.

“N-no.”

“No. Instead you bit her.”

Of course he noticed that.

“So let me see if I got this right. Instead of accepting your punishment like a good boy or conceding… you decided to take advantage of her kindness and my absence. God it’s like you want that pretty ass of yours lashed until you can’t even sit in your gaming chair.”

Kenma takes in a sharp inhale, trembling slightly. You gulp in turn, knowing that even though Kenma was worse, you aren’t safe from reprimand either.

Keiji fixes his sharp gaze on you and finally acknowledges you. “Did I agree to letting you punish Kenma?”

“No Sir.” You answer quietly, trying to keep the shivers threatening to expose your excitement at bay.

“Take off your shirt and lie on the bed.” He sighs and begins unbuttoning his shirt. You do as you’re told, removing your oversized sweater as you climb onto the king-sized mattress.

“It seems that I’ve been too lenient with the both of you so really the fault lies with me. Allow me to take responsibility for that now.” Keiji says. He stands before you and takes in your form, surely noting how much you’re quivering before lifting and spreading your knees, leaving you on full display. He turns back to Kenma.

“Kitty you should take this chance to properly apologize. Come clean up the mess you made.”

Kenma is just as compliant, quick to kneel where Keiji orders him right in front of your dripping pussy. He can’t even attempt a front, immediately capturing your clit in his mouth. You moan and buck a little at the sudden sensation.

“Easy there Kitty. Take your time.” Keiji chides softly. Kenma hums in response and opts to lick a long stripe against you instead. He tries his hardest to pace himself as he mouths you, gently pushing his tongue in between your folds.

Keiji opens your bedside table and grabs a bottle of lube, squirting some on his own hand and onto Kenma’s ass. You feel the shiver that rips through Kenma as the cold gel runs down him. He takes a quick second to let out a shuddering breath but doesn’t dare look back. You, however, fully stare as Keiji gingerly begins fucking Kenma with his middle finger. Kenma quakes at the feeling and Keiji revels at the sight of you two and how your moans and his combine in the air and fill the room.

“Baby you’re so shameless” Keiji mewls “taking so much pleasure from all the chaos you caused.”

You can’t even argue his point. Every thought of disagreeing had left your head the moment Kenma’s lips had touched your throbbing pussy. All you can do is whine in response.

Keiji doesn’t take his eyes off of you when puts his hand on the back of Kenma’s head and presses him down further. “Make sure you get all the way inside. Only bad boys leave someone else to clean up after them.”

Kenma simply whimpers in response and thrusts his tongue inside you, trying his hardest to move his hips to meet Keiji’s pace at the same time. You can tell Keiji’s purposely changing it to make it harder for him. You continue to tense up helplessly and barely contain your writhing with the very last bits of control over yourself. You know better than to cum right now but the waves of pleasure rushing over you and the sight Keiji fingering Kenma open are quickly clouding your brain.

“Please...” you beg, aching for release. Keiji looks up at you and smiles softly, an utter betrayal when his next words leave his lips.

“Kenma, stop now.”

You both whine and turn your attention to Keiji, facial expressions mirroring each other. He pets Kenma’s hair and plants two quick kisses on his wet mouth. You sit up and pout.

“Keiji, Sir, please, I wanna cum so badly.” You beg, head spinning a bit from the sudden loss.

“Oh so now you acknowledge that I’m in charge.” He says and moves to kiss your cheek next, He places feather light kisses against your jaw as you whine and whimper in protest. Drawing close to your ear, he whispers icily “I have half the mind to fuck your pretty little throat so raw you wouldn’t be able to speak for weeks without regretting testing me. But I’m sweet, remember? So listen before I forget that.”

All your dissent dies in your throat and you stiffen.

“Ready to be a good little girl for me now?” He inquires in his normal tone. It’s almost scary how easily he can flip between the two. All you can do is nod and accept the deep kiss he offers as a reward, moaning into his mouth. “Good, now get on the floor next to Kenma. Wanna see you two suck me off.”

You quickly do as you’re told and sit on your knees next to Kenma while Keiji slides off his pants and underwear. With Keiji sitting on the bed in between you, you let a thick glob of spit fall on his dick and work it down with your hand, slowly stroking him. Kenma positions himself and takes Keiji’s head in between his lips, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks him down.

“You two have been so naughty today and now look at you..” Keiji says breathily and pushes your hair back away from your faces. “Sharing my dick so nicely with each other.”

You and Kenma kiss sloppily around the head of his dick, letting your tongues coat Keiji further in spit. Even though you and Kenma bicker more often, the one thing you two agree on without fail is that Keiji looks the hottest when you service him together. It’s how his eyes focus fully on the looks you give him, full of trust and devotion. How he’s always sure to praise equally as he grips whatever or whoever is nearest to gain some kind of grounding.

“Neither of you is getting my dick today... but you can make each other cum. Should be enough, right? Since you two were so impatient you couldn’t even wait for me.” Keiji teases in between his groans. You try to shove down your disappointment as you use your free hand to reach for Kenma’s dick. You pump him in time with the rhythm you manage to form with Keiji’s large dick in your throat. Your eyes burn but you try to keep down your gags and moans as Kenma starts rubbing your clit fervently, wanting instead to clearly hear how he and Keiji sound. His touch is vengeful, a punishment for putting him in this mess and you nearly see stars from the feeling of his sticky fingers circling your most sensitive spots.

“P-please Sir, t-this time I really can’t hold it,” Kenma whimpers, looking utterly destroyed with tears clinging to his lashes and a trail of spit still connecting him to Keiji’s dick.

“If you think you can keep servicing us while you cum then go ahead baby, but you better keep moving.” Keiji permits and it’s all Kenma needs to cry out and shoot out ropes of his cum all over your hand. He continues his ministrations against you and Keiji and soon it’s your own hips that are stuttering. You do not have Kenma’s level of control so you try to shove down your incoming orgasm.

“I need you to cum Sir please, please please. I-I won’t last. Please I want you to cover us with your sticky cum” you beg. You look up at him from under your lashes as you go back to mouthing him and feel him throb in between your lips.

“Yes Sir pleaseee. Want your cum all over.” Kenma adds, his words slurring together. If he couldn’t focus on both speaking and pleasuring his partners he would simply put his all into the latter.

“Want my cum? Want Sir to make a mess all over those pretty little faces?” Keiji groans, bucking his hips into your mouth.

“God yes please.. Please!” Kenma continues and Keiji takes his dick out of his mouth to stroke himself over your faces. Kenma is steadily bringing you to your own edge and you both can’t help but open your mouths in hopes to catch Keiji’s cum on your tongue while you orgasm. With a shout, Keiji begins cumming, spurting all over you and Kenma.

“Go ahead sweetheart, fucking cum right now” Keiji hisses and you convulse as you finally let go, holding onto his leg as your orgasm rips through you. It’s hard to focus on anything besides how easily Keiji and Kenma make you feel like you’re in heaven.

“Now.. have we all learned our lessons?” Keiji utters once he’s down from his high. The sight of Kenma and you leaning against his legs for support makes his heart swell.

“Yes.. Sir.” You two manage to get the words out.

“See I knew my little ones were smart.” He coos gingerly moves to first pick you up and place you onto the bed and then Kenma before grabbing wet wipes. “Now let’s get you all cleaned up.”

#akaashi smut #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi x reader #akaashi x kenma #haikyuu kenma #kenma smut #haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #hq poly #akaashi fic #kenma fic #micco.fics

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wonjaekook · 4 years ago

Text

One Minus One Plus One

Pairing: college student!Mark x college student!reader

Description: In all of the years you’ve known Jungwoo, you should have figured out to not take his words at face value because, though you haven’t even met, Mark Lee seems to hate your guts.

Word Count: 9.9k

Genre: kind-of-enemies to lovers! fluff? angst? humor? I honestly don’t know how to categorize this

Warnings: vaguely suggestive ending, some minor swearing

A/N: This is my (late) holiday gift for a friend and to you all, I suppose. It’s an enemies-to-lovers but not really, as they’re not really enemies and it’s more passive-aggressive!Mark and very confused!Y/N. To the intended - I love and appreciate you so much; thank you for always supporting me and listening to me ramble about even the most ridiculous ideas <3 If you ever need anything, I hope you know that you can always shoot me a text or DM! Please enjoy c:

Mark Lee is always sweet. It’s the kind of sweetness that’s warm and fulfilling, leaving a pleasant feeling in the pit of the stomach, like a steaming up of hot chocolate rather than a strikingly sweet popsicle. His nature isn’t something he particularly prides himself on, as it’s partially unintentional, driven by awkwardness and politeness at times, or by the compulsion to simply make people happy. Jungwoo has told him that he’s allowed to be a little more selfish once in a while, he’s allowed to say no and take breaks sometimes. Except, he’s ever the people pleaser, ever the hard worker, ever the yes-man. Mark Lee is always sweet.

Except when he isn’t.

You’re fairly certain that Mark Lee has hated you since before you even met him. When you decide to transfer to the same university that your high school best friend Jungwoo attends, he talks your ear off about all of his great friends and all of the places he is going to take you and all of the fun you’ll have. He’s always been the descriptive type, telling you far too much about his good pals Mark, Donghyuck, Johnny, Taeil, Jaehyun, Kun, Lucas… and countless others, whose names you sometimes have a hard time keeping track of. Jungwoo has a lot of friends, something which has remained true since high school. Whenever you catch up with him, he speaks particularly fondly about Mark, who is one of his roommates and someone he considers to be one of his closest friends.

“You’ll love him,” he says, “but not too much, I hope. That would be super weird, you and Mark.” He wrinkles his nose at that and doesn’t make any more abnormal comments. You don’t think much of it.

In short, you let Jungwoo decide your opinion on Mark Lee before you ever met him. With everything else about moving to a completely different university occupying the majority of your thoughts, it’s easy enough to accept that Mark will be awkward and painfully sweet and that you will become fast friends. That’s your first mistake.

Before you even finish moving in, Jungwoo drags you over to his place to meet some of his friends, who he insists will become your own. It’s just past noon and he claims that everyone will be awake and ready to greet you once you get there. He’s half right, in the sense that only half of the apartment is awake. The early-risers, who Jungwoo didn’t even have to shake before he came over to get you, are at the table in their common area, sipping on various caffeinated beverages. These consist of Mark and Jaehyun. Donghyuck is presumably still curled up in his bed, asleep after a late night of playing games, and Johnny, who had stayed overnight and doesn’t actually live with them, is passed out on their couch, an arm slung over his face to block the light. Your friend has shown you enough pictures for you to recognize them.

Jungwoo practically deflates as soon as he walks in to see only two members of the current household conscious. “This is why we can’t have nice things,” he grumbles before striding over to Johnny and yanking off the blanket covering his long torso.

The elder groans, clearly having only been dozing and not deeply asleep, and moves his arm so he can glare at Jungwoo. “Your disrespect for my sleep schedule is why we can’t have nice things.”

“You don’t have a sleep schedule,” Jungwoo says back, glaring at his friend with the blanket in his hand. “Plus, Y/N’s here.”

Johnny lazily looks over and sees you in the entranceway, to which his response is to roll slightly so that he’s propped up against the back of the couch with one leg crossed over the other rather than just lying down. “Sup. Name’s Johnny.”

“Ew, don’t use your flirting voice!” Jungwoo whines at his friend, kicking him in the shin. In all honesty, you’re both amused and slightly flattered that Johnny is attempting to flirt with you when he’s just woken up. The messy hair is kind of a look. “Y/N’s a friend.”

“Yeah, we’ll be good friends, alright,” Johnny says, looking directly at you and wiggling his eyebrows in the most ridiculous way. That gets a giggle out of you while Jungwoo gawks, kicking Johnny again for good measure, slightly harder this time.

Jungwoo looks like he’s about to start arguing again when Jaehyun kindly interrupts, shifting the conversation. He gives you a small smile, perfectly polite and handsome, his hair straight and soft over his forehead. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Jaehyun.”

You lower your head to acknowledge him. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” You look towards the other boy at the table, who you now realize hasn’t glanced up at you once. Jaehyun had been at least half watching the mock fight between Jungwoo and Johnny, but Mark had just been staring at his cup from behind circular glasses, not even drinking it. His own hair is slightly damp, curling at the ends, making him appear somewhat young. “You’re Mark, right?”

Finally, he looks at you, but looks away quickly. “Yeah.”

That’s… that’s not right.

You try again, smiling as brightly as you can, even though he won’t glance in your direction again. His side profile is full of both soft shapes and hard angles, afternoon sunlight coming in through the window falls as highlights on his cheeks and nose and chin. He appears exactly as your friend had described him to you, but his attitude proves him to be a walking contradiction. You shift on your feet, grasping for the right words to say. “Jungwoo has told me a lot about you.”

“Uh… yeah. He’s told me about you, too.”

You almost outright frown at that. Isn’t he supposed to be super nice and friendly? Instead, it sounds like Jungwoo has been spreading all sorts of nasty stories about you. Hypothetical stories that, apparently, only Mark has been listening to. Neither Jaehyun nor Johnny are acting strangely towards you at all.

All three of the other boys do seem to notice the change in behavior for Mark, though. There are a few moments of tense silence before Johnny elbows Jungwoo. The latter speaks up. “Hey, Mark, can you go resurrect Donghyuck? I think he might be dead.”

The switch is instant and very startling to you. His face loses all of its tension as he looks at Jungwoo, nodding. “Yeah, sure. If I don’t come back in ten minutes, I’m the one who’s dead.” He pushes himself up out of his chair and exits the common area.

After he’s gone, you look at Jungwoo. He stares back. You make a motion with your head towards the front door, where you retreat to and he follows. You stand somewhat stiffly, hands linked behind your back. “Did you say something to him? About me?”

Jungwoo puts his hands up defensively. “Nothing bad, I swear!” He looks back towards the common area. “He must just be having a bad day or something…”

That doesn’t explain the sudden warmth when someone else spoke to him, though. You frown. “Okay… I guess I’ll just have to try harder to get him to like me.”

Your friend seems to perk up at that. “That’s the spirit!” He proceeds to grab you by the shoulders and steer you back to the common area.

You have an amiable enough time chatting with the boys who had remained there. Eventually, Donghyuck emerges from his room, looking even more ruffled than Johnny had, and Mark shuffles out with him. Once again, he doesn’t even spare you a glance. Every so often, as you’re talking to the others or just listening to their strange, all-over-the-place conversations, your eyes flicker over to him. He contributes to the chatter, but it’s like he’s purposefully avoiding you, even though you’re literally in the room with him. It kind of hurts.

Still, you try not to let it bother you too much. An hour passes, which you realize with a start, and you remember that you’re not even nearly done unpacking. As you’re rising from your seat on the edge of the couch, Jungwoo throws a comment out to you. “You’re welcome to bust in here any time!”

He’s met with a chorus of agreement from the others, except one.

The next day, Jungwoo makes a point to introduce you to the rest of his circle. Not long after, you’re added to a group chat with a whole phonebook of unfamiliar numbers. Most of them, minus several who your friend had told you in the past do a poor job of checking their messages, send their names pretty quickly. Jungwoo tells you who the others are. With a pang of disappointment, you realize one of the missing numbers was Mark.

On your first day of classes, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that you share an economics lecture with Donghyuck, who acts both very tired and also full of energy, chatting your ear off before and after class, but looking as if he’s about to pass out when the professor gives her introduction and starts to go over course material. That day, you also learn that you have an ethics class with Jungwoo’s friend Doyoung, stoic and serious and exactly the opposite of Donghyuck, but still smiling at your lame jokes and carefully making sure you get the homework down.

The second day starts out much more slowly. You settle down for your third class, a curriculum development course, and it takes you about a solid minute to realize that Mark Lee is sitting in the room with you. He had come in while you were busily typing out a text to a friend from your previous university. The classroom is not particularly large and you had taken a seat near the middle, so there aren’t many places for him to hide. When he walks in, he takes a seat by the wall closest to the windows. You consider greeting him, walking to his desk to try and talk to see if he had a change of attitude from the last time you saw him, but then your professor enters the scene. As he passes by the far side of the room, Mark looks up from his own phone and smiles, mouth instantly opening to greet him. You stay in your seat and try to look busy as you listen to them chat amiably. Mark laughs in disbelief at something your professor says about his vacation.

At the end of the lecture, you pack up your things quickly and make the effort to take a few small, light steps to catch up to Mark, who’s already leaving. “Hi, Mark! I didn’t realize we had a class together.”

He gives you a sort of half-shrug, keeping his head pointed straight ahead. Almost imperceptibly, his pace increases. “I guess we do.”

He opens a door to a stairwell, not making any particular effort to hold the door for you. Reflexively, you grab the door and slip through after him. You try again as the two of you head down. “Are you going to be home tonight? Jungwoo invited me to have dinner with you guys.”

“No,” he says, voice edged with irritation. He reaches into his pocket, fishing out his phone and a pair of earbuds. “I’ll be out.”

“Oh.” You slow down slightly. “Well, we should hang out sometime. My next class is this way, so… see you.” By the time you’re done talking, he’s slipped both earbuds into his ears and is pushing the doors at the bottom of the stairs open. You hold back a heavy sigh and shrug your backpack higher onto your shoulders.

As he told you, he’s not in his apartment that evening. Though Jungwoo had invited you to help cook dinner, he shirks his responsibilities, slipping away to play games with Donghyuck and leaving you and Jaehyun to cook, with relatively unhelpful commentary from Johnny, who was once again on the couch when you arrived. At some point, their friend Yuta slips in, steals some noodles, and leaves.

After the cooking is done, you and Jaehyun celebrate with a firm high-five, and Jungwoo and Donghyuck un-disappear, coming out of the younger boy’s dark bedroom. The lot of you are halfway through eating when Donghyuck perks up. “Wait, where’s Mark? He said he would do calc homework with me.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and hold back from saying that he told you he wouldn’t be home.

Thankfully, most of Jungwoo’s friends are nice to you and it’s easy enough for you to make friends of your own. You ease yourself into a routine of classes, homework, and hanging out with your new social circles. Mark doesn’t hide that he tries to avoid you about half of the time. At the same time, you try to split yourself between friend groups, as to not force him either to be around you or to not hang out with his own friends. There are the occasional large scale events that both of you are invited to, but there are enough people that you usually aren’t forced to interact. After a month of classes, you stop trying to start conversations, but you still greet him. He greets you back with the indifference of an overworked, tired stranger. During your class, he firmly ignores you. He does more than ignore you - he speaks to virtually every other person in your class except you. All of your friends carefully avoid the topic of his blatant dislike for you, though you know they all think it’s odd.

Finally, one of those large events comes to pass via the boy known as Zhong Chenle. He doesn’t go to your school, but is still somehow acquainted with all of Jungwoo’s friends, so he became acquainted with you as well. He’s eccentric and sarcastic and sometimes you see him playing basketball with Mark and Jaehyun in the school recreation center. So, when he rents out the local ice skating rink and invites you, you’re excited to go. It’s not often that you get onto the ice - it’s always a thrill after you re-learn how to skate, and you enjoy the feeling of the smooth gliding and wide, curving turns on the blades. You imagine that you’re painting with your feet.

Things go down smoothly, like you envisioned. After just twenty minutes, you’ve confidently found your ice legs and you’re racing around the rink with Donghyuck, playfully tipping each other off-balance with carefully or sometimes not-so-carefully timed pushes. A few minutes later, a new player enters the arena. Maybe if this new person weren’t Mark Lee, you wouldn’t have noticed their entrance, but your eyes are instinctively drawn to him.

The boy in question is clinging to one Lee Jeno, another friend of Jungwoo and Donghyuck and all the rest of them, as they both try to find their balance. Jeno seems to be having somewhat of an easier time with the skates on his feet, making slow pushes so that he glides short distances with Mark holding onto him. Mark is adorably flushed, in a way you haven’t seen before, his cheeks aflame with cold and embarrassment. His body is swallowed by an overly large hoodie, completing the cozy and cute look.

Your racing buddy has also slowed down to watch with you, staring at the scene. He suddenly nudges you with an elbow. “You should help him.”

“Jeno? I think he’s gotten the hang of it. Plus, I don’t know him that well.” It’s now a game of who can dodge implications rather than who can dodge physical pushes.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, skating lazily alongside you. “You know I’m talking about Mark. This would be a great opportunity to get on his good side.”

“Why don’t you help him? He’s your boyfriend, after all.” If you weren’t focusing on turning your skates and keeping your balance because you’ve reached the short end of the rink, you would cross your arms and huff at him more dramatically.

He clicks his tongue sharply, something you know by now that he does when he’s irritated. “Mark isn’t my boyfriend. Doyoung and Taeyong are boyfriends. Mark and I are soulmates. And he’s still painfully single.”

“So are you!” As you protest, you realize that Mark and Jeno are getting closer. Donghyuck fires something back indignantly, but you’re just thinking about what he said before. The offer to help lies in front of you as a real possibility, but how would you feel if someone you hated came up and asked if you wanted help skating? If you really hated them that much, you would just think they were being condescending. The last thing you want to do is give Mark a reason to think you’re acting that way towards him. So, as you skate closer, you pick up your pace and speed on by, not even glancing at the two boys with their arms interlinked. Luckily for you, Jungwoo is just ahead, so you hook arms with him and jerk him forward with your momentum, making him yell out in surprise.

As you’re gliding along, laughing at your friend’s reaction and attempts to push you, Mark stares at you from behind with a small frown on his face.

“Mark?” Jeno’s voice snaps him out of it and he looks towards the younger boy. “Do you need me to slow down?”

“No,” he says rather grimly, “let’s go faster.”

You don’t speak to each other at all for the entire night.

The next month and a half passes unremarkably. Then, suddenly, midterms are rolling up and you find yourself swamped with work, especially in the class you share with Mark and your new friend Yuqi. At the current moment, you’re at your place with your head buried in your arms, groaning dramatically. “I can’t do this.”

Yuqi nods, looking somewhat dead inside. “Professor Lim hates us.”

“I don’t know what chapters we even covered half of the material in. Did he just make it up?” You lift your hand to paw through the textbook in front of you lazily, so much of it seeming foreign. “It doesn’t help that the Instructional Systems Design Model is such a big part of the project.”

“Maybe that’s in Chapter 1?”

You flip through her suggestion before slamming your book shut. “Nope.”

“I know!” You perk up at your friend’s revelation, looking at her from across the table. “We can just ask Mark! He’s good at this class, he probably knows.”

You stiffen at her suggestion. There was only one time you dared to ask him for help, in which he just brushed you off and said he was busy. Since then, you’ve resigned yourself to only asking Yuqi for help, no matter how clueless she is in this class sometimes. A brief moment of panic sends your heart racing as she whips out her cellphone. “Don’t mention me.”

She turns to look at you, finger poised to press call over her phone. “What?”

You put your head back down, muffling your words. “Don’t say my name when you talk to him.” She gives you a weird look, but shrugs, pressing the call button. “Wait! And put it on speaker so I can hear the answer. Please.”

Wordlessly, she rolls her eyes, but pulls the phone away from her face, setting it on the table in front of her. The call connects after two rings and you hear Mark’s voice with the staticky phone call filter over it. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mark! It’s Yuqi.”

“Oh, hi, what’s up?” He seems to brighten up, showing a pleasantness that you rarely hear from him these days.

“I just had a question about our curriculum development class. Do you know what chapter goes over the Instructional Systems Design Model? I can’t find it.”

“Oh, sure. Hold on, let me grab my notes.” From the other end, you can hear the distorted shuffling of clothes and paper for a moment. “It’s Chapter 4, I think. We didn’t really go over that chapter in class, but Prof. Lim told me when I went to his office hours.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much, Mark! You’re a literal life saver,” Yuqi gushes, about to practically kiss the phone in joy.

You press your hands together in front of you in a silent thank you. Mark laughs lightly into the phone. “No problem! If you ever need anything, let me know. I’m always happy to help.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Bye, Mark!” After receiving a goodbye from him, Yuqi presses the hang up button. She claps her hands twice in excitement. “That makes things so much easier!”

You’re stuck thinking about what Mark said before hanging up. It’s exactly in line with how Jungwoo used to talk about him - polite, helpful, friendly. An ugly part of you has to wonder what you did wrong once again. What part of you is undeserving of his kindness? An even uglier part feels the green flash of envy. “How do you have Mark’s number?”

“We had a class together like a year ago and he’s a pretty cool guy. Also useful to have around.” The image of them studying together, chatting like close friends, heads bent closely over shared notes, makes the parasite of jealousy dig deeper in your belly. The logical side of your brain knows you shouldn’t be feeling like this, but the two sides of Mark Lee make you want to throw an uncharacteristic fit. She tosses her phone to the side before flipping open her textbook to Chapter 4. “Why?”

“Were you guys ever… like…” You bite the inside of your cheek, not wanting to say it out loud.

“Me? Mark? No, we just worked on a project together. I have no idea what gave you that idea.” She wrinkles her nose at you.

“You just talk to each other so casually,” you huff, trying to expel the negativity from your system, “I don’t know.”

“He’s like that with everyone,” she says easily, leaning back in her chair. “Except you, I guess.”

“Except me. I guess.” You parrot, not feeling any better about the situation. When you proceed to ask her if you did anything weird on your first day of class that would have put him off, she denies it, telling you that you were completely normal. Resigned to forget the mystery for the night, you open up your textbook.

Midterms pass with relative success. At least, with more success than you had at your old university. You’re excited for a break, a reprieve from the pain of studying. Johnny arranges a potluck and movie night at his place, assigning everyone a dish and putting you on dessert.

In your class with Doyoung, who is often assigned as the chef of the group, you pressure him for everyone’s favorites. “Something fruity? Chocolatey?”

“We’re split there. There’s not much you can do that would appease everyone, honestly. Some of them are the pickiest guys I’ve ever met.” He continues to scribble notes as you grill him for info, not even looking up.

“What if I did something different? Like matcha cookies?” You tap your chin in thought and Doyoung lifts a hand to point at you after the suggestion leaves your mouth.

“Yes, do that one. Basically everyone likes green tea.”

“Basically everyone?”

“Not Mark.” Doyoung shakes his head disapprovingly. “He’s not arriving until after we eat, though, so I’m sure it’s fine.”

You’re not sure what to say to that. That night, you work hard making your matcha cookies, setting aside a bit of time for a side project. When you arrive at Johnny’s apartment with two dishes, one quite a bit smaller than the others and labeled with Mark’s name, safely hidden in the pantry until everyone has stepped out of the kitchen area and you can put it somewhere you hope he’ll see it. You can only hope that he at least appreciates your effort. When he arrives a bit later into the night, non-gifting you his usual non-existent glance, you can’t help but impatiently squirm a bit. Before you leave, you make a pass by the kitchen and, disappointingly, but not surprisingly, the container is in the same place as you left it, your note still affixed to the top.

The mystery continues, however, when you approach Johnny a few days later to ask about retrieving your containers.

“There was more than one? I only have that big rectangular one that you brought the matcha cookies in. They were really good, by the way - I can only wish the cookies I make turned out like that…” He scratches his head and you feel like the gesture perfectly represents how you’re feeling as well. If he doesn't have the box… who does?

A small part of you holds onto the hope that the intended person retrieved them after you weren’t looking.

The class you share with Mark is not nearly the most interesting one you have, nor is it one that is particularly memorable most of the time. There’s something so terribly tedious about it that makes you suffer a disproportionate amount whenever you do a chapter of the reading, though you think that you’re usually quite good about your work. Still, though you’re not exactly the most studious of your classmates, you can’t stand resounding silences in the classroom. So, when your professor asks a question and no one volunteers, you try to at least say something somewhat intelligent. Today is one of those days. Except, as you speak, you realize with dawning dread that your words aren’t making any sense of all, are barely related to the question, and are progressively spiraling into completely different subject matter. Still, you find it hard to stop, eventually coming to a stuttering stop with your answer. Even Professor Lim can’t hold back something of a put-off expression. You sink lower into your seat and, as your professor says something along the lines of your comments being “not quite relevant,” your cheeks burn.

You spare a glance to the side, looking for some sort of pity or reassurance from Yuqi, but you end up looking past her at Mark. You half expect him to smirking at your failure, like a villain in a high school drama, but, instead, his eyes meet yours. He offers you the barest twitch of an encouraging smile before looking away, his face neutral again. You’re almost unsure about how to interpret the look - it’s the closest thing to a positive emotion he’s ever shown you. Confused, you fix your eyes on your open notebook and keep them there, scratching random notes and doodles into the margins for the remainder of the lecture.

When you think about Mark Lee, you feel like you’re going insane. It would honestly be pretty easy for you to make one of those crazy conspiracy theorist maps with the red strings and thumbtacks attempting to connect a bunch of pictures with all the strange, fragmented experiences you’ve had with the boy. At one position, you could put all the information you supposedly knew about him before even meeting him, all of the things Jungwoo told you, all the smiling pictures from before you arrived. Somewhere else, you could put all of the times Mark has brushed you off or outright refused to acknowledge your existence. In a third location, you could put all the things you’ve actively seen or heard him do that align with the person you thought he was. Finally, you could put the most recent developments of him subtly starting to not ignore you together. The whole diagram would be circled with giant question marks all over it and one question written in capital letters: WHY?

You’re trying to do your damn curriculum development homework and all you can think about is Mark Lee and the first smile he ever gave you. And, from the way your heart is beating, pushing heat into your face and ears, making you wistful and longing to see his smile again, you think you know the direction your feelings have headed.

The next few times you head over to Jungwoo’s place, it’s hit or miss as to whether Mark appears to be actively avoiding you. Finally, one day, you’re pressed shoulder to shoulder with Jungwoo, your eyes fixed on the small screen of your phone as you show him a funny video you found. You don’t notice Mark until he opens his bedroom door loudly enough that you look up and you meet his cold gaze. He’s in casual clothes, a hoodie and jeans, with earbuds hanging from his ears, his hair slightly tousled from the wind outside. The eye contact lasts for only a moment before his door acts as a barrier to your vision. You blink hard.

“Just when I thought we were getting somewhere…” You sulk, speaking lowly as to not be overheard by him.

“You and Mark?” Jungwoo asks, not even looking up. The video ends and your friend puts down your phone, folds his hands in front of him, and turns to look at you. “Did you ever figure it out?”

“Did I? How could I figure it out when he won’t even talk to me? Did you?” You lean away from him, crossing your arms. “Should we even be having this conversation over here? He’s just in his room.”

Jungwoo shrugs. “He has his headphones in, he can’t hear anything. To answer your question,” he pauses, leaning in closer to whisper like he’s telling you a secret, “I have no idea.”

“You must have some ideas at least?”

“I have many ideas, many theories, and quite a few formulas. Most of which don’t particularly apply to this situation.” You grumble something under your breath about engineering majors as he continues. “For Mark? He might be letting all the negativity he’s ever felt out on you, honestly. Maybe because you’re the same major?”

You sit up slightly straighter. “We’re the same major?”

“Yeah?” Jungwoo replies, giving you a look. “He’s trying to be music education instead of history education, though.”

“I never knew the specifics,” you mumble, letting your posture fall back into a slouch. In reality, it’s more than just not knowing the specifics - there’s very little you’ve managed to learn about Mark that you haven’t actively had to pry out of your shared friends. You know about some of the foods he likes, some of his hobbies, and a bit of general information. It’s awfully hard to get to know someone when they refuse to acknowledge you.

That notion makes your developing crush feel even stupider.

You attempt to turn the subject back to where it began. “Why me, though? Why not literally anyone else?”

“You’re a pretty cool person and you’re good at a lot of things. Mark’s developing an inferiority complex?” Jungwoo taps his chin as though he’s pretending to be some great thinker.

“I’m not going to lower myself to help some man’s ego,” you huff, your nails digging into your palms as you make tight fists. “Plus, there’s nothing I’m particularly good at that he’s not also good at, if not better.”

“It’s not really about ego, I think…” Jungwoo says, trailing off. “I dunno. He’s not like that with anyone but you.”

“No one but me, huh.” Honestly, you’re kind of getting sick of that expression. This isn’t the kind of exceptional you want to be to him. Not at all. You’re honestly not sure when it stopped being a simple need to be on pleasant terms with Jungwoo’s friends and started to get romantic. Your lips press into a thin line for a moment before you exhale sharply from your nose. “Everything is a big ‘I don’t know’ and I hate it. If it’s not an ‘I don’t know,’ it’s still stuck in the ‘why?’ stage.” You lay your head down and you have to resist the urge to scream into your arms. “I’m going to lose my mind.”

“You really make no sense at all.”

“It really makes no sense that I-” You bite your tongue to stop yourself to stop yourself from admitting out loud to the feelings you’ve just recently realized. Jungwoo just gives you a sly, knowing smile that you don’t like the look of one bit.

Before you know it, finals are around the corner and, with it, one of the last organized events you’ll have with your friends until testing is over. This time, it’s a group dinner where people can come and go as they please, and a few of you have taken it upon yourselves to do all the cooking. Namely, you, Doyoung, Jaehyun, Kun, and, surprisingly, Donghyuck. Suffice to say, the kitchen is not enough space for all of you. Still, you manage to pull it off, completing a hearty Korean-style dinner that slowly disappears from their dishes as all of the others eat. By the end, you’re worn out from the sweltering heat of the stove, the occasional bickering with the other chefs (‘Donghyuck, stop eating all the radish!’), and chatting with nearly every single one of your friends. Names and faces scroll through your head and you’re honestly not sure who you’ve seen and not seen by the end of it. Except for one person.

Mark Lee is, once again, nowhere to be found.

You make sure to smack away hands going for seconds in order to wrap up a moderately sized portion of food for him anyways. When all of the food, save for what you’ve set aside for Mark, is gone, Taeyong offers himself and some of the others up to clean, which you and the rest of the cooking boys eagerly accept. Most of them have headed out by now, but the few remaining begrudgingly agree to the job at Taeyong’s call.

You lean against the wall idly, watching the work being done and listening to the rhythmic sound of the water running and the sponge scraping against metal. Finally, Jungwoo happens upon the wrapped plate you had prepared for your missing guest.

“Who’s this for?” He asks to the room, almost salivating at the sight of the food. Damn, that boy can eat.

“It’s for Mark. You can give it to him when he gets back.” Your words are half informative, half threatening. Jungwoo takes the hint and carefully replaces the foil covering the food.

It takes another minute for him to look back over at you, seeing you looking bleary-eyed, close to swaying onto the floor from fatigue. He steps over, patting you on the head. “Y/N, you can go rest on the couch if you want. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I might just do that,” you respond, not clarifying which part of his sentence you’re talking about. At his behest, you shuffle over to the couch. It only takes a moment for your eyes to flutter closed. The music of washing dishes lulls you quickly to sleep.

You’re not sure how long has passed by the time you stir to the sound of the front door closing. You recognize that water is no longer running and that there are only two voices left in the kitchen area. Lying there for a moment, unsure of if you should make your presence known yet, you determine that the voices belong to Jungwoo and Mark.

“Oh, Y/N made sure to grab this for you,” you hear Jungwoo say, followed by the faint crinkling of the foil covering the plate.

“She did?” Mark’s voice is surprisingly soft, warm, everything you’re not used to from him.

The voices drift closer towards you, accompanying the slip of socks against the wood floor. “Don’t act surprised. Also, she’s on the couch sleeping right now. I’ll probably wake her up in a minute so she can go home.”

“Oh.” You’re listening as hard as you can, trying to determine whatever Mark is feeling just by his tone. “Is she okay?”

Your heart beats faster and you want to squirm, ask questions, anything. You remain still.

“Just tired.” A beat of silence. “Why are you looking at her like that?”

“Dude, I just…” Mark has some sort of lightness to his voice that you’ve never heard. “Nothing.”

“Do you think I can’t tell? Come on, I’ve known you long enough.” Jungwoo would normally be teasing saying something like that, but right now you just hear a kind of weariness that you’re entirely familiar with.

“Not as long you’ve known her.” The sentence comes out bitter, the first negativity you’ve heard from Mark all night, and Jungwoo sighs in response.

“Do what you need to do and then I’ll wake her up.”

They walk farther away. The telltale sound of the microwave opening and shutting after the foil crinkles again, followed by the beeping of the buttons and the hum of the machine, tells you that someone is heating up the food. Under the microwave ambiance, you hear what you think is plastic against plastic. The machine is stopped before it can beep shrilly. The smell of warm, reheated food fills the air briefly. There’s shuffling as Mark presumably walks.

“Night.” Jungwoo echoes Mark’s sentiment and you hear more shuffling towards you. A touch on your shoulder. You keep your eyes closed, trying to control your breathing for a moment longer. Your friend shakes you slightly. “Y/N, wake up.”

You try your best to play up your awakening act, like you hadn’t been listening to the entirety of the last conversation. Rubbing your eyes and blinking, you look up at Jungwoo. “What time is it?”

“Almost midnight. Everyone went home to sleep and study.” You get up slowly, rolling your shoulders once you’ve sat up. “I can walk you back, if you want.”

“That’s okay, it’s not a long walk.” You get to your feet, padding to the kitchen area. There, on the table, is the plastic container you’d brought Mark’s cookies in weeks ago. “Oh, that’s my container. Did Johnny find it?”

Jungwoo reaches up to ruffle his hair, looking between you and the container. “Mark did, actually.” “Huh.” Shrugging, you pick it up and make your way to the door. “Tell him thanks for me.”

“You could tell him yourself?” Jungwoo offers, looking vaguely hopeful.

You smile, but cringe at the same time. “Yeah… you know.”

He shakes his head, seeming disappointed once more. “Fine. Text me when you get back?”

“Will do.”

As you walk home, your container clutched in your arms, you think about how more pieces are being unveiled, but nothing is really making that much more sense at all.

Finals pass as they always do. You study with Yuqi for your curriculum development class. The situation from midterms repeats itself almost exactly at one point, with her calling Mark for help and you staying quiet as he talks, and the test is no harder than any of the others you had previously in the semester. You force yourself to keep your eyes on your exam and to not glance over at Mark except when you’re walking out of the classroom at the end. All you can see of him is the back of his head, his hair slightly disheveled. Idly, you wonder if you’ll get over your baseless crush if you aren’t able to look at him and mull over the problem during class anymore. You think that’s the last you’ll see of him before you run into him at an event next semester.

On the last day of finals, your group chat receives two messages from Jungwoo.

JW: END OF THE SEMESTER PARTY TOMORROW NIGHT TO CELEBRATE FINALS BEING DONE BEFORE EVERYONE LEAVES. ATTENDANCE IS MANDATORY.

JW: I don’t care if you planned a “date” with your “girlfriend,” I expect to see all of you there :))

A minute later, your phone buzzes again with an individual message from the same boy.

JW: Y/N, my lovely best friend, you’re part of the planning committee and you’re going to help me set up. Be there an hour early xoxo

You know there’s no use fighting it so, the next day, you show up to his place as expected. Jungwoo, Lucas, Yuta, and Johnny are all milling about, trying to seem busy but, honestly, there doesn’t look like there’s much to do. Some of the furniture has been moved to the side, there’s a giant mysterious tub that is partly filled with a reddish liquid that Lucas and Yuta are leaning over, and Johnny is affixing colorful lights to a wall. As soon as your shoes are off, Jungwoo is steering you to the common area.

“Y/N, you’re late!”

“I’m like ten minutes early-” You start.

“No, no, no excuses. I have an important job for you!” It takes you a moment to realize that he’s not leading you to the kitchen, but towards someone’s bedroom. “You like crafts, right?”

“I mean, I guess? I-”

“Great!” He pushes open the bedroom door, Mark’s bedroom door, and pushes you not-so-gently inside. Mark is sitting at his desk, bent over something with a look of surprise on his face. He looks cozy, dressed in a simple red t-shirt and gray sweats with circle glasses perched on his nose. “I want to hang about one hundred paper cranes around the apartment to add a little flare to the party. You can’t leave until you’re done, Mark has the paper, bye!”

He shuts the door behind him.

You and Mark stare at each other in bewilderment as you process whatever just happened. You’re in Mark’s bedroom for the first time. You’re also being actively forced to interact with him one on one for the first time. None of your friends had ever forced you to try and work out your issues until now and you’re certain that Jungwoo’s implication was that you’re not allowed to leave until you’ve talked it through. Some part of you knew he would eventually snap and force you to interact, but you always ignored that possibility. Until now.

“Um,” you start, twisting your fingers together in front of you, “he said you have the paper?”

“Yeah…” he looks back at his desk, grabbing some of the myriad of square sheets and holding them out to you. “Here.”

“Thanks.” You carefully make sure to prevent your fingers from brushing against his as you take them from him. Stepping back, you settle cross-legged on an empty spot on his floor. After you sit, you take a moment to look around. His walls have the occasional band poster plastered on them, there’s a hoodie on the floor across the room, and some of his drawers are partly open, illustrating a pretty typical college boy’s room. A couple of books are pushed to the side on his desk as he works on folding the cranes. Remembering that’s what you’re supposed to be doing, you get to work, making careful creases. Your first crane comes to life on yellow paper slightly lopsided. Good enough, you figure.

You’re in the middle of your second crane when Mark’s chair screeches quietly against the floor and he stands up, gathering his paper. To your great surprise, he sits down a few away from you and mirrors your pose. When you meet eyes with him briefly, you look away as fast as you can, returning to your crane before you can even try and read what he’s feeling. The next three cranes pass quickly with your eyes locked firmly on your work. When you dare to look up again, you find that Mark is intently watching your hands. He startles when you see him. Realizing he’s been caught, he speaks of softly. “Do you… know how to do it?”

Even when he’s the one talking quietly, looking embarrassed, you feel so small. You look down at his own paper pile, which has a few crumpled sheets surrounding it. “I can show you.” He nods and you cautiously scoot closer so that you’re side by side. As gently as you can, you explain each fold and he copies your movements. Soon, you have a relatively even green crane and he has a somewhat lopsided pink crane, very similar to your first.

“Thanks,” he says, staring at his creation, “all of the tutorials I googled weren’t making any sense, but I think I got it now.”

“No problem.” You nod, moving back to your spot across from him. Not wanting the experience to end quite yet, you think about what Jungwoo said last weekend. “Thanks for returning my container.”

He instantly knows what you’re talking about. “Thanks for-”

Before he can say any more, he stops and his expression hardens. He proceeds to look back down at his hands, making slow, purposeful folds in the paper in front of him. You frown, but do the same. A few cranes later, you can’t stop it anymore. After months, months, of him treating you like this, you can’t go one more crane without finding the truth. You throw a half-completed crane to the floor and, though the noise isn’t loud, he looks up. “Mark, what did I do?”

He seems entirely too surprised by the question, which sparks a kind of anger that you didn’t even realize you were holding in. “What?”

“What did I do! What made you act like this to me? Did I do something? Do you just hate my face? What did I do wrong?” You squeeze your knees brutally, trying to resist doing something like tearing up the few pieces of origami you had completed.

“Nothing.” His simple, one word answer only serves to make you more upset. Though he appears initially dismissive, he sees that you’re about to start shouting and quickly continues. “You really didn’t do anything!”

“Then, why? Mark, you’re making me lose my mind!” Now, you feel like you’re on the verge of crying out of frustration. So far, you’ve managed to not cry at all about this stupid boy who has largely chosen to ignore your existence, but you can feel the telltale warming of your cheeks and the pout in your lips.

“It’s not something you did! Not really.” He takes a shaky breath, appearing almost as upset as you, though there are no tears in his eyes. “It’s about Jungwoo. Please, don’t cry.”

The initial confusion helps you swallow your building tears. “If you’re upset at him, why do you have to take it out on me? I really wanted to be friends with you, Mark. I really did.”

“I wanted to be different.” Now, he’s quiet, refusing to look at you for the months of shame he’s feeling rise to the surface.

“From Jungwoo?” You’re not quite following still. You just know that, even though he’s subtly broken your heart and led you in circles over and over for the past few months, you want to know why he’s hurting and you want to stop it. Even if he hasn’t been full of kindness to you, he has been to everyone else. And you know almost for a fact that this isn’t something he’s told anyone else.

“From you.”

Pushing aside papers, crumpled partial cranes, complete cranes, you move closer to him. You’re not sure if you’re overstepping your boundaries and you still kind of feel like one wrong move will make you cry, but the yelling has left your system and your instincts say proximity will help you understand. “Will you explain it to me?”

“There was a you-shaped hole in Jungwoo’s heart ever since he had to go to college and stop spending so much time with you.” Mark’s resignation is quiet, soft-spoken, like the boy you’d heard so much about but only now had gotten to truly meet. “Whenever he came back from breaks, he would talk about you so much and about how similar you and I are and it just made me feel… it made me feel… like… I don’t know. Like I’m just replacing you while you’re not here.”

“Mark…” You’re not sure quite what to say that he hasn’t logically figured out for himself already. Maybe it would help to say the obvious anyways? “You’re not a replacement. You’re you and I’m me and he has different places for both of us.”

He lets out a puff of air. “I know that. It’s just the type of feeling that you can’t really get to go away, even when you try really hard to believe the opposite.”

“I get the feeling.” And you do. It’s like the nagging feeling that you’ve had that you did something unforgivable to upset Mark even though you were almost certain you didn’t.

“I was mean to you because at least that would make me different enough to not be replaced, I guess. It worked because you never stooped to my level to be mean back.” Though he hasn’t quite apologized, he sounds genuinely sorry.

“It worked because you couldn’t have been replaced in the first place,” you say back. You look over and he has a small smile on his face.

“That too. Also-” He stops himself, seeming conflicted. “No, it’s a bad time. A really bad time.”

That piques your curiosity. “Huh?” He’s not smiling anymore, instead looking awkwardly to his side, away from you, and drumming his fingers on the bed. “Mark, you might as well say it. Whatever it is.”

“Okay, after a few months, I realized that you weren’t going to replace me and things were fine. But, you know that thing that kids do?” You’re confused and he’s growing red, practically steaming at the ears in embarrassment, which you can see even in the dim light of the room. “So, I kept being mean because then you kept looking at me even though whenever I thought about what I said to you later, I always felt really bad-” “Mark, you’re rambling. What are you talking about?” You ungracefully interrupt him, touching his arm to get his full attention. He seems to grow even redder at your touch and suddenly exclaims his next words.

“You’re really cute!”

Slowly, his words make more sense. You try to piece them together out loud to make sure you’re understanding him correctly. “So… the thing kids do… where they’re mean to the person they like?”

He moves his head up and down in a tiny nod. Now, your face is heating up, too. Even more than it was when you were on the verge of crying. After a moment, he groans and presses his face into his hands. “Damn, I’m such an idiot. I know this is, like, what middle schoolers do, but since the beginning of the semester I’ve just been so confused, except you’ve probably been way, way more confused than me, and I didn’t even think about it, but all of our friends are probably confused, too, and-” As he jabbers, when your thoughts and feelings had been processing slowly previously, you now feel like your whole reality is crumbling. You spent the last while beating down your feelings when he’s become a pile of mush in front of you about the same problem? At this rate, he’s never going to stop rambling either. Not that you particularly want him to. It’s the most he’s directly said to you ever. And it’s adorable. What else would be adorable? You wonder, teasing him a bit before you tell him the truth. For how long he kept you hanging, you deserve to create at least some tension of your own, you figure. Just for a moment.

“- you’re probably thinking about how dumb this is and I don’t know how you’ll ever forgive me-”

You sit up straight and cross your arms over your chest. “Mark.”

He stops talking and looks at you, more panic seeming to rise in his face at the serious expression you wear. “Oh shit, I never let you talk. Y/N-”

“Mark.” He finally stops, staring at you. “I don’t forgive you.” The panic turns into sheer terror. He clearly hadn’t expected you to put it so forwardly. However, before he can say anything truly depressing, you continue. “I don’t forgive you because you haven’t actually apologized yet.”

His eyes are like tiny suns, round and bright and holding all the feeling in the universe. “I- I thought…” He looks to the side, thinking about everything he had said, and realizes that you’re right. “You’re right. Y/N…” He presses his hands together in front of him. “I’m so sorry.”

It’s probably the most succinct and straightforward he’s ever been with you, but you don’t have much time to think about that before he’s leaning forward in a full bow, pressing his forehead to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-”

“Mark, stop!” As soon as you realize what he’s doing, you shuffle forward, putting both hands on his shoulders so you can attempt to yank him back upright. “I was joking, please stop!” He remains upraised, once again looking confused. Slowly, you move backwards about two feet to put some breathing room between you. “You don’t need to do that. I like you, too.”

One slow heartbeat passes. Then a second. You’re not sure how long the thick silence hangs between you, but the tension is so heavy that you don’t even hear any outside noise from the other boys who are supposedly getting ready for a party.

“You… what… wait, no, really?” Mark’s baffled face as he stutters back to you paired with the anxiety of the entire situation makes a laugh bubble out of your chest. He seems to be entirely at a loss. He continues to just stare at you wide-eyed, like he’s witnessing some incredible event instead of just ogling you in the dim light of his bedroom.

“Don’t look at me like that…” You can’t help but reflect some of his flustered behavior, eye contact becoming almost painful. He’s never met your eyes with such enormous positivity and cuteness before and it makes you want to run laps around the building or something. “Mark, I’m serious!”

“How could you like me back? When I was so mean to you? For months?” He begins to twist in place, trying to lean over and look at your head from multiple directions. “Did you fall down the stairs on the way over here and hit your head or something?”

“Mark!” You uncross your legs and shuffle closer on your knees, reaching out to still his movement by grasping his shoulders once again. “Please stop.” When you touch him, he freezes, still moon-eyed. After he stops moving, your hands slide down so that you can hold his. His hands are warm and stiff, just like the rest of his body.

He finally breaks eye contact, looking at where your hands are connected. “I just really don’t get it. There’s no way you like me.”

“You almost sound like you’re upset about it.” You tilt your head, smiling at him softly.

“I am!” He’s insistant, his hands holding onto yours firmly now. Though his grip is tighter, he visibly deflates, his shoulders sinking. “It’s so unfair to you. I was such an ass.”

“But you’re not. One ass-like behavior does not an ass make.” You almost confuse yourself saying it, but you continue. “It’s not about the times you were weird to me. It’s about the times you were nice to everyone else. Like when you helped Yuqi with our class. Or when you helped Donghyuck with his calc even though you aren’t even taking it with him. It sounds kind of dumb, but because of that, I knew you weren’t a bad person. Even if you were trying to be one to me sometimes.” Your thumbs run over his idly, making soothing strokes over his skin as you speak. “Still, you weren’t really all that mean to me, per se. More cold, if anything. Then, when you stopped doing so much of that, it got really confusing. I do have a question, though.”

“I’ll try to answer it, I guess.”

“Did Jungwoo really say we were that similar?”

He blinks. “Maybe once or twice? It just really stuck out to me, for some reason.”

“You’re cute.” He blushes furiously at that. Carefully, you untangle one of your hands from his and bring it up to his cheek, cupping his blazing face. “Do you want to try this? The being together thing?”

“I want to, but-” He presses his lips together, making his cheeks puff out slightly as he thinks. “I don’t know. I feel like I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve a chance with you.”

Silence sits between you for a moment. Your hand moves back down so you’re holding both of his again. “I know what you can do to make it up to me.”

His eager eyes on your face prompts you to continue. Slowly, a grin threatens to split your face in half.

“I guess you’ll have to kiss me at least once for every time you were mean to me. Maybe more than once.” Your brilliant smile changes form in the air between you and reappears as the stars in his eyes.

“Practice round? Just to make sure I get it right.” The subtle flirtatiousness of the idea that leaves his mouth absolutely appeals to you and you agree. You move as close as you possibly can, your knees pressed together, your breath on his lips and his on yours, his soft bangs grazing your forehead. The touch of his lips against yours is awkward at first, but transforms into something sweeter with a little time. Once you both pull away, it seems you have the same idea when you both go back in for a few quick pecks afterwards. Finally, when you’re content for the moment, he leans forward quickly to press a kiss to your cheek.

You figure that a return to the work of folding cranes will help calm down your rapid heart rate, but every time you steal a glance at Mark, the butterflies return. You know for a fact that he keeps looking at you, too. By the time the noise level outside of the room increases and music is being blasted through the apartment, you’re nowhere near being done with all one hundred cranes, but both of you are sure your mutual friend doesn’t actually care about that. Together, you emerge from his room. You don’t answer any prodding questions from your friends for most of the time you’re mingling, though you’re pretty sure that a good number of them see him sneaking kisses at least once or twice.

Some of them definitely see when you sneak off to his room again before the clock has even turned to midnight. At the same time, you could be damned if you really care.

#neowritingsnet #nct fluff #nct angst #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct fanfic #nct scenario #wonjaekook #i tried a slightly new sizing for the header :) hopefully it looks better now #there are definitely things I could have done better so let me know what you think!#<<<333

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high-functioning-lokipath · 4 years ago

Text

Prompt: "I'll Be Here To Protect You" - Loki x Reader - Words: 2,564

A/N: This sort of follows the oneshot "Worthy" but can be read alone. Basically, Reader is Silver Shadow (see Marvel character list for reference), Loki and Reader are married, yada yada, you'll see…

"Silver? I think you should take a look at this," Cap said over the comms. You, Cap, Loki, and Widow had gone to investigate a Hydra base you'd received intel on. You'd been informed that the base was abandoned but that they still had some records stored there.

"On my way," You replied to the Captain, teleporting over immediately. "Oh my goodness," You gasped at the sight that greeted you. There, lying curled up in a small cage, was a girl no older than 5 or 6. Cap ripped open the cage and gently pulled her out, holding her in his arms. She whimpered slightly and you could tell she'd been beaten. Instantly, you wanted to kill the people who'd done that to her.

"Can you help her?" He whispered, not wanting to startle her any more. You nodded and held out your arms to take her. As soon as you touched her, you started working.

"You might need to hold me up," You warned the Captain. "This is going to be tiring."

"Alright," He nodded. "Then let's get you out of here." He easily lifted you both and carried you out to the quinjet. You vaguely heard him talking on the comms but were a bit too focused to actually make out his words. He set you down on one of the chairs with the girl curled up in your lap. After a while, before the others got back, she seemed to be healed and sleeping. You were exhausted so you adjusted yourself slightly in the chair and dozed off as well.

"Y/N?" You turned your head, eyes still refusing to open with exhaustion, and groaned slightly feeling the kink in your neck from sleeping weird. "Y/N! Please wake up, hm? Please?" Someone said. Now they were poking your arm. Your other arm however seemed to be asleep, as you couldn't feel it, and you had a weight on your legs and chest. Suddenly remembering what all had transpired, your eyes shot open. "See? I told you she would wake up if I did that!" Natasha said, with what you knew to be false happiness, to the girl on your lap. The girl simply glared back at Nat before turning her attention to you, with a completely different expression. Her eyes widened and she tried smiling as though she was out of practice and waved slightly.

"Hi there," You smiled. "My name's Y/N. What's yours?" She frowned and looked away before mumbling something. "Hm? I couldn't hear you," You said.

"Helius," She replied with a frown.

"Oh," You replied. "Well, do you like that name?" She shook her head vigorously. "Would you like a new name? One just as pretty as you?"

"Really?" She asked, eyes lighting up once more.

"Yep! And then you'll have a special name for yourself! Just like I do, and just like Natasha," You said pointing at the redhead. "And-" You were about to point to your husband when you realized for the first time since waking back up that he wasn't with the team anymore. Your eyes darted back to Nat who looked worried.

"Y/N?" The little girl said quietly, pulling on your sleeve.

"What is it, dear?" She whispered in it in your ear and you nodded. "Oh yes, um. The bathroom's right over here." You took her over and opened the door.

"I get to use that?" She asked, surprised.

"Yes," You replied slowly.

"Wow! You're really nice!" She hurried inside and closed the door herself. You stood there for a moment, shocked, and Nat walked up behind you.

"She's not even accustomed to using a normal bathroom, Nat!"

"Those people, if they even should be called that," she said, shaking her head. "Are monsters." You looked around once more, trying to see if Loki had shown back up. "He's up with Steve," She said, pointing to the cockpit.

"What? Why? He's willingly spending time with the Captain?" You said teasing.

"He said he needed to think."

"Did he give any clues?"

"Not verbally. But I think he's nervous."

"About what?" You exclaimed. She nodded towards the bathroom door.

"Being a Dad."

"A Da-" you interrupted yourself, chuckling lightly. "You think just because we found her means we'll be her parents?" Nat smirked and nodded. "First of all, Tony will probably have a cow if we wanted to keep her."

"Well your husband had a horse, may I remind you."

"That was a made up story! Would you please stop referencing it!" You shrieked.

"Only when it stops being funny," She laughed.

"Second, there's probably already some rule in place that states we need to put her in the custody of Child Protective Services."

"We'll see about that."

"She's yours!" Tony said 2 hours later once you'd arrived home and gone straight to a conference room to meet with him.

"What?" You exclaimed. You hadn't even had the chance to talk with Loki yet. You glanced outside the room at the girl sitting in the hallway. The whole team was there with you but Loki had still not said a word. You looked at him but he refused to make eye contact and you couldn't read his expression. "Don't get me wrong, Tony. She's wonderful and I think she deserves the world but why?"

"You found her! Who knows if she has powers? It's best to have one of our own caring for her just in case. And besides, according to Romanoff's story, the girl practically glared daggers into anyone else who came her way."

"Alright I guess. I mean," You sighed. "Loki? Darling? Um, what do you think?"

"You've already made the decision, Stark. I will respect that and allow my wife to make the necessary changes to our living quarters to care for the child. Now is there anything else you'll be needing at the moment? I need a shower."

"Uh, no. It's-we're done," Tony said, seeming surprised at Loki's attitude just as you were. You all started to head out but Tony stopped you for a moment. "Here," He said, handing you a credit card. "Buy whatever you want for her." You smiled and shook your head.

"What do you know? The man of iron does have a heart."

"Yeah but don't tell anyone," He chuckled.

About a week later, Helius was in her new bedroom, thoroughly showered in gifts from Tony, but still not talking to anyone. Neither was Loki for that matter. You yourself were exhausted, staying up late nights keeping the girl company when she woke up screaming from nightmares. When you eventually came back to bed, you often found your husband had gotten up already and disappeared somewhere to 'be alone'. With Helius, you offered her a few ideas for a new name but she didn't like any of them. You even told her some ideas the others had suggested but she hated those even more. You seemed to be the only one she was comfortable with. With Loki, you'd tried to talk to him, even calling and texting him but he wouldn't answer. Today, though, you decided you needed to do something about both of them or else you were probably going to go crazy. First, though, you had some formal paperwork to take care of with Tony in order to have legal guardianship of her.

"I don't know what to do about it, Stank," You sighed, hours later. Tony wrinkled his nose slightly at the nickname but listened. "Half of this I honestly still can't fill out for you because she won't pick a name. I don't know how to make her socialize and I sure don't know how to get Loki to spill what's bugging him." Tony got up and walked to your side, putting his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm not sure what to tell you either, Shiny."

"Watch it," You hissed, whipping out a knife you always kept on your person and holding it dangerously close to his baby-maker. He backed away quickly.

"Maybe you just need to corner your husband and, uh, pull that trick on him," He chuckled nervously. "Ok, well, um, just hold onto that paperwork and send it to me when it's done, alright?" You nodded and gathered it together before heading back to your floor. It was early afternoon and you thought you may have a shot at talking to your husband while Helius took her nap. She'd found her own little routine to keep her occupied during the day in her room even when you weren't there. But you always had to be home when she slept because of her nightmares and she refused to socialize with others.

"I'll be in the bedroom until dinner is ready," Loki said upon your return.

"Can we please talk first?" You asked.

"There's nothing to discuss," He replied, quickly walking to the bedroom and slamming the door.

"Oh yes there is!" You exclaimed, teleporting yourself inside the bedroom.

"I hate when you do that!" He yelled.

"Well I hate when you do this! Now man up and tell me what's wrong or I really will back you in a corner with my knife!"

"I don't want to talk about it, alright?" He hissed. "Now keep your voice down or else you'll alert the child that we're having a disagreement."

"Oh, so you're finally acknowledging her?" A guilty expression flashed over his face and he turned away. "What is it, Loki?" You pleaded. "I don't want to argue. I just want to know what's going through your mind. Ever since we found her, you've been-"

"You found her," He said. "I want no part in raising a child that is not my own."

"What about your own blood?" You asked, wondering for your own future if he was against kids in general or not.

"I-" He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. But I certainly don't want to adopt. I've never seen a good result of adoption."

"Oh," You said slowly. "So that's what this is about."

"What do you mean?"

"You're worried about your own background. Is that it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," He huffed, crossing his arms and further distancing himself from you.

"Loki, please. Listen to me. You may not have had the best family situation yourself, but that doesn't mean you won't be a great Dad. I think-no-I know you'd do wonderfully! Please believe me!"

"I-"

"Mommy!" A voice called out, sounding frightened. Your eyes and Loki's widened in surprise. She'd never called you that before.

"I had better check on her," You sighed. Loki nodded and you rushed off. Half an hour later you came out of her room to find Loki waiting for you on the couch.

"What happened?"

"More nightmares," You groaned and slumped down next to him.

"Is that why you're never in bed anymore?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah. It seems she can't go more than half an hour without having another one." He nodded silently and took your hand in his.

"Well, I suppose I should commend you for your sacrifices for her. I just don't know if I can-" You shushed him, pressing a finger to his lips.

"I understand, Loki," You smiled sadly. "Mind you, I don't exactly agree. But I respect how you feel. I guess I can talk with Tony tomorrow about finding her a new home." You got up quickly, to hide your own emotions from him, and went to prepare dinner. That night, Loki made you go to bed extra early so you could actually get some sleep. You appreciated it, but your internal clock had gotten so used to it already that it woke you up a few hours later about the time Helius would be having her first nightmare. When you didn't hear anything from her room, you got worried. You rushed out of your bedroom and, as you approached her room, heard voices.

"Where's mommy?" Helius cried, again sounding frightened. Drawing your knife outside her closed door, you were ready to teleport in a surprise whatever intruder was there.

"She's sleeping, sweetheart. Do you think your new Dad could help you?" You nearly cried at hearing Loki's voice so soft and gentle with her. It took you a few more seconds to process that he'd referred to himself as her 'Dad'.

"I thought you hated me," She whispered.

"I don't hate you, little one," He assured her. "Do you want to know why I haven't talked to you yet?" You didn't hear a reply but as Loki went on you could only assume she nodded. "I never had a good father. And when you came along a week ago, I was so worried that if I tried to be your father I would mess something up. And I couldn't let that happen because you are too wonderful and too beautiful."

"I don't have a beautiful name," she sighed.

"Hasn't mommy come up with any good ideas?" He asked.

"No, well, yes but I didn't like any of them. They're pretty but," she trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"May I suggest one of my personal favorites?" You cracked the door open just a little so you could see. Their backs were to you, sitting on the edge of the bed. Loki had his arm wrapped around her as she curled onto his side, dwarfed by his height even sitting. She nodded slowly in reply to his question. "How about Arabella?"

"I love it!" She exclaimed, standing quickly and jumping up and down. "Thank you, Dad," She said smiling brightly as she threw her arms around his neck for a hug. He was surprised but gladly gave her a somewhat awkward hug back. "But what if the monsters come back?" She asked, voice trembling slightly.

"I'll protect you."

"Always?"

"I, Loki of Asgard, hereby make a promise to you, Arabella, my daughter. I'll be here to protect you forever and always." Arabella hugged him again and started crying. "Why are you crying, my dear?"

"Because you're the most bestest Dad I could ever ask for."

"Well, I, uh, thank you," He stuttered, not used to that kind of compliment. "I've got an idea. How about tomorrow morning I introduce you to some of the others here?"

"Why? I don't wanna!" You bit back a chuckle at her childish exclamation.

"But they're all really nice and they'll be like your new Aunts and Uncles!"

"Well, maybe," She conceded.

"Good! Now why don't you go back to sleep and I'll stay right here until all the monsters go away for tonight." She nodded and gave him another hug before allowing him to tuck her in. You smiled, wiping away your own tears, and snuck back to your bedroom. A couple hours later, Loki snuck back in himself.

"So how's the bestest Dad doing?" You whispered. Loki tensed up when you said that.

"So you heard us?" He said. You got up and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind.

"Yep," you said. "And I couldn't be happier. You really mean it? This means I don't have to talk to Tony tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not!" He replied grinning.

"Well then I have some very exciting news for you." He turned around, quirking his eyebrows questioningly. "How would you like to be a father to two?"

#loki #loki oneshot #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x oc #silver shadow #marvel #avengers

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