#i was doing more of that last spring and it was a good semester despite the stress from that chemistry class | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cyberpxnk · 1 year

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compromise | j. yh & p. sh

♡ pairing: seonghwa x f!reader x yunho features yunho x seonghwa and minor yungi x reader ♡ chapters: 1 out of 1 ♡ word count: 11k ♡ rating: mature/18+ (minors dni) ♡ genre: university au, soccer!ateez, smut, established relationship, minor angst, polyamory ♡ warnings/tags: infidelity/cheating, mentions of alcohol and marijuana use, yunho has a big dick, switch!seonghwa, dirty talk, size kink if u squint, pet names (babe, baby, princess), degradation (use of nasty, whore, disgusting), oral (female giving), oral (male giving), choking, crying, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie, all the usual goodies

♡ synopsis: your relationship with seonghwa is crumbling before your very eyes. in a moment of weakness, yunho has you succumbing to your desires but you end up getting more than you bargained for.

♡ author’s note: howdy everyone !! i present to u ... compromise... >:3 likes, comments or reblogs are all greatly appreciated! if u enjoyed this lil tidbit, then dont be shy and drop a request!! or just giv me some good ole luv in the ask box... ♡

Winter has been cold; the winds unrelenting, the showers heavy, but most notably it was the loneliest of seasons. Months filled with ghostly kisses and slivers of physical intimacy that you could only reminisce of for so long.

Following the arrival of the lively blooms, you prayed for more opportunity as your newfound faith rose with the sun. Spring marks new beginnings — or so they say. The warm radiance of clear skies and gentle rains grace your heavy heart with hope. Things will be different this time around. Surely.

You long for Seonghwa's company, but you could never get more than a moment alone with the man. Maybe it was your fault for dating such a busy body, but you don't think so. The first year was filled with lovely memories and unforgettable dates, yet all too fast everything slipped away before you had any control over it.

Seonghwa is popular, smart, diligent, and responsible. With his final year at university nearing an end, his days were constantly in motion. Juggling a near perfect GPA whilst doing extracurriculars meant he had little to no time for leisurely activities. Leisurely activities included you, his girlfriend.

As of last semester Seonghwa's schedule went accordingly: Mondays are spent volunteering at the local nursing home. Tuesday through Thursday he works at the dainty little flower shop by the library and Sundays are reserved for homework and studying. On top of it all, there was mandatory soccer practice every weekday evening.

One would think that left him the weekend to spend with his lonesome lover, but unfortunately, that wasn't the case. That's what you wish to believe, but you know better at this point.

"I'm sorry, babe. Mr. Sung had an emergency at the retirement home, I don't think I can make it tonight."

"Shit! I have a test on Monday, I have to study... I'm so sorry, love. I'll make it up to you!"

"An important client needs me to stay and arrange twenty bouquets for her. I'm really sorry, baby..."

His apologies came far too frequent, and you had grown tired of his antics. You understand his priorities, but it was clear you were not at the top of the list. You're not sure if you were even on the list at all.

Despite his negligence, you still continue to try your best for him in the belief he'll slowly begin to reciprocate attention to you as he used to. No matter how demoralized, you still wished to maintain an image as his perfect girlfriend. Routinely you bring him coffee every morning, pack his lunch, attend his practices and games, yadda yadda… All the good stuff.

All of this is done with uncertain optimism though your insecurities are heavily laced in between each action. All you could really do is stay hopeful at this point.

Come the first home soccer game of Spring, your ass is presently glued to the metal bleachers as you're seated before the field. The players are hustling along the range, gunning for dominance over the ball. Your best friend Mingi sits beside you, the two of you sharing a large throw that's spread across from shoulder to shoulder.

Even with the rays of sunlight flickering between wisps of sullen clouds, the air still brings a chill with it. Blankets were a necessity at games like these. Huddling with the larger male proves to bring much needed warmth as you're cozying up to each other between idle chatter.

Mingi is a defender for KQ University's soccer team, but due to an unforeseen injury he has been forced to the bench until further notice. Thankfully, you have each other for company during his recovery.

Focusing between your small talk and watching your boyfriend, you're caught off guard by your companion's next words and nearly double take at him.

"You and Hwa still having troubles?"

You let out a quiet murmur, akin to denial and watch as the ball is passed to Seonghwa.

"Uh..."

The blonde maneuvers skillfully along the field before rounding his leg back and swinging precisely, shooting straight into the opposing team's goal.

Immediately everyone erupts into cheers and you can't help but to join them, not willing yourself to verbalize your answer at the other man's question. A small smile tugs the corners of your mouth. That's your Seonghwa: striker extraordinaire! Boyfriend? Not as extraordinary.

"You don't have to beat around the bush. I can see it all over your face. You're like an open book," Mingi points out bluntly as he speaks over the roaring crowd.

If you were such an open book then why couldn't Seonghwa pick up on how distressed you were?

"Just admit it, you guys haven't been on a date in weeks and god knows how long it’s been since you’ve been laid." Although his words sting, you know what he says is true. You visibly wince and give a sharp nudge to his ribs, earning a pained whine from his end.

"Shut up, man! There's only so much I can do with a guy that busy."

Folding your arms over your chest, a frustrated sigh comes from you. Mingi has since begun to belt out suggestions, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he does so.

"Just break up?"

As if it were that easy.

"I don't know about that one..."

You're only half listening at this point, your eyes scanning the expanse of the field until they fall upon another player who is currently running up to Seonghwa and high-fiving him.

The man in question is tall, even taller than the giant beside you. He’s also incredibly handsome. He didn't fit the status of conventionally attractive, yet his presence isn’t one you can dismiss easily. With a towering frame and broad shoulders, it’s hard for you not to notice.

And his uniform? God. His sweat laden jersey sticks to the outline of his chiseled chest, fabric clinging and accentuating his lean form. Even worse, the shorts he wore did nothing to hide his set of long, muscular legs. You can feel yourself warming up considerably as you ogle him shamelessly from head to toe.

After their high-five he’s bouncing along the grass with a newfound spurt of energy and returning to his spot by the goal. When the ball is back in play, he takes on a defensive position, knees bent forward as his gloved hands are held out before him. Can't forget the big hands and nice ass too.

Your eyes flicker to his backside. Unable to help yourself, your stare is glued to him as you swallow thickly once he bends over, trying to ignore the full display of his butt before you. God, what were you doing?

"Ok, I know you're lonely and desperate but Yunho is not someone you should be thirsting over." Mingi's deep rumble of warning breaks you from your stupor. You tear your eyes from the goalie and meet your friend's knowing expression, cheeks aflame in embarrassment from having been caught.

"It doesn't hurt to look..." A guilty whisper comes from you as you return your focus to the goalkeeper, only to have your eyes widening in surprise when you're met by his own heated gaze.

Despite the distance from the stands, you can see a wicked and knowing smirk forming on his lips. As if he can read your thoughts, he readies himself in position once more but not before shooting a sultry look in your direction. Oh.

"That's more than just looking, babe. As his best friend and your best friend, trust me when I tell you it's not a good idea to get involved." Your companion can't help but to chastise you, shaking his head. Mingi is probably right though. He usually is.

Jeong Yunho is not someone you should be concerned with, yet there is an allusive and alluring pull to him. Everyone on the team is popular in their own right, but Yunho often has people flocking to him left and right. Amongst the boys, he and Seonghwa were probably the two most sought after men on campus.

The goalie was known for his exuberance and friendliness, attracting attention from all types of people. In truth, it was hard for many to resist his charms. Not you though. You’d like to think you have a decent reign on your self control especially considering the fact you're not single.

Even if that wasn’t the truth, the issue with Yunho is that he's a known heartbreaker. It was apparent that he didn't date or hook up often, despite his popularity. Even so, that only seemed to heighten his desirability. And regardless of that fact, word around campus was that he was infamous for having a huge dick.

The rumors stemmed from someone who was supposedly lucky enough to sleep with him, though nobody can confirm or deny. Whether true or false, many still try to gun for his attention in hopes of finding out.

Honestly, you shouldn’t even be interested in entertaining the idea. You barely even know the guy, only having chatted with him during practices and at the occasional party here and there. Not to mention you have your lovely, smart, gorgeous, busy… busy… boyfriend. Damn it, you're a horrible person.

“Fuck!” With both hands slapping your cheeks, you groan out in frustration while sinking into your palms.

Mingi raises his eyebrows and peers at you with a questioning look.

“What?”

“Dude, why am I thinking about Jeong Yunho's supposedly big dick?!” It's his turn to groan while he's rolling his eyes.

As if things couldn't get any worse, you suddenly feel a pair of eyes on you again. The heavy stare that bores into you is enough of a tell that you don't dare to look forward, the goalie's shit eating grin taunting you from your peripherals.

"Seriously? Could you have said that any louder? He's literally staring at you!"

"Shut up, shut up! I know, dude!"

"Please just... I don't know. Please, don't."

After that you both sit in silence for the remainder of the game, left to linger amongst your own regretful thoughts.

It's not long before the bleachers begin to shake as the crowd excitedly stomps and hollers. A roar of cheering erupts from the stands once the final score reflects 4-1, the timer paused on zero.

In the rush of commotion you and Mingi forget the previous tension and untangle from the blanket, both of you stumbling slightly down the steps. You're quick to steal the throw, pulling it around yourself as you leave your seats, joining the team on the field.

"Hey! Get back here!"

Mingi shouts in complaint but trails after you nonetheless, catching up to you slowly as he rubs his arms and shivers.

You're both merging in the group of people crowding the team as everyone lets out celebratory cheers, animatedly chatting amongst each other. Mingi kisses your cheek and dips from you to join his fellow players.

You're left to battle the masses, squeezing and weaving between bodies as you try to make your way to Seonghwa quickly. When you reach him, he's surrounded by some of his peers, all of them laughing while exchanging hugs and pats on the back.

When he finally turns and sees you, his eyes light up. He's quick to wiggle away from everyone and he's pulling you into a bone crushing hug, lifting you off the ground and spinning you.

The action surprises you but it's not unwelcome as you laugh and clutch onto him tightly, a squeal coming from you.

"Hwa!"

"Did you see me, baby? I can't believe we won!" You smile endearingly, though you can't help but chuckle at his comment. Of course they won. After all, they were one of the top soccer teams in the province.

He plants a single big wet kiss on your lips before he's setting you down, arms still wrapped around you. An adoring look crosses your face as he beams proudly. The familiarity of his hug was something you missed dearly, and you don’t even mind that he’s covered in dirt and grass stains.

Perhaps corny on your end, but you didn’t want your hug with him to end. You don't remember the last time he held you so joyfully. You knew it was probably from the high of winning the game, but you can pretend just for a little while longer that it was because he missed you.

"You did amazing, Hwa!" The stars in his eyes expand, twinkling with pride as you compliment him, his smile stretching impossible wide. Your heart stutters at the sight, making you want to melt entirely within his arms.

You want to shower him with more praise but all too suddenly, he's being pulled away from you. You recognize his reluctance as he apologetically tips his head and mouths 'sorry' when the crowd pulls him away, tossing him up in their arms as they're chanting his name.

"Party at Wooyoung's!"

"Drinks on Seonghwa!"

They march further and further away from you, filing into the locker rooms as you watch from afar, standing pathetically by yourself on the field. The crowd has since dissipated and you're all too aware that you're alone now.

The forgotten blanket is still draped around you, and you clutch it tighter around your frame as the breeze sends a shiver down your spine.

"You should dump him, you know."

You jump in shock and spin on your heel, head whipping in the direction of the new voice. You're met with the very same goalie you had been checking out earlier, a sense of guilt creeping over your back. How long was he standing behind you?

"What?" You manage to say back to him, unsure of how to approach his suggestion.

"I said you should dump him."

Yunho stands tall and defiantly before you, arms folded over his chest as he cocks an eyebrow in amusement. You give him a once over before you frown, trying to look anywhere but at him.

"You don't know anything."

He doesn't miss your lingering look and the corner of his lips quirk up knowingly as he steps toward you.

You stumble back, heart catching in your throat when you look up to meet his stare, his eyes swimming dangerously with an unknown emotion.

"I know enough, princess. A good girl like yourself wouldn't be eye fucking me if your boyfriend was taking care of you well enough," he pauses and leans past you, whispering hotly against the shell of your ear, " — or if he was fucking you properly."

A tremble of desire ripples down your spine but you move back, flabbergasted by his statement. You're no sooner tripping over your own feet and you topple backwards, landing on your ass.

Yunho barks out in laughter, not bothering to offer you any help. The man is hunched over now, chuckling loudly as he stares at your frustrated form below him. He clutches his stomach and figuratively wipes his eye as if he'd just witnessed the funniest thing of his life.

"Fuck you," you spit back to him.

“Just say when and I’m all yours.”

You’re shocked by his admission, not daring to meet his eyes as your hand begins swiping the blades of grass under you. Though you're annoyed, you can't ignore the bubble of arousal that has spread through your belly. Yunho wants to fuck you. You rewind his words over and over again in your head, only snapping into focus when you hear Seonghwa’s voice calling out to you from a distance.

"Babe?" From several meters away, you see your boyfriend approaching closer in a light jog. He has since changed out of his uniform, and is now sporting a long sleeve with some form fitting jeans.

"Are you ok? I didn't know you were friends with Yunho!" Seonghwa reaches you both shortly, oblivious to the situation before him, smiling from ear to ear as he begins to help you up.

"I’m ok. I just tripped, that's all..." You offer an uncertain smile, standing up and wiping the debris from your pants.

"Hey, man! I was just asking her if she's coming to the party." Yunho throws his arm over Seonghwa, giving him a side hug before he's veering off toward the locker rooms.

"Gonna go shower. See ya both there!"

You're left with Seonghwa as the goalie's form disappears into the building. You shouldn't be upset now that you have some alone time with your boyfriend, but the encounter leaves you unsettled and questioning yourself.

You swallow nervously and lace your fingers with the man before you, gently tugging him along toward the parking lot.

"Let's go get ready, yeah?" He nods his head and lets you lead the way, happily swinging your hands.

"I missed you, babe. I can't wait for the party."

The guilt continues to fester at the back of your mind but you force it away, mustering up a half hearted smile.

"I missed you too."

The Jung family was known for being wealthy, so securing their beloved son a lavish 3 story building within your college town was no hard feat. Given Wooyoung's spacious living situation he also housed some of his fellow players. One being his closest buddy, Choi San, two being your best friend, Song Mingi and the third roomie was none other than the infamous goalie himself.

To say you're familiar with the house is an understatement, having stayed over on many occasions whether it be for a soccer function, party or to hang out with Mingi. The building itself is huge, reminiscent of someone's dream home but it was a little closer to a frat house than anything given the current occupants.

By the time you reach Wooyoung's, the sun is already setting beneath the skyline. In typical party fashion, there are people pouring in and out of the door and you see a few stragglers who are already wasted, strewn about the front yard.

The music is at full blast, some unfamiliar hip hop beats pumping from the speakers. The noise grows louder as you both near the entrance, the volume of chatter mixing in with the tempo of the current song.

When you and Seonghwa step through the bustling entryway of the Jung manor, a chorus of drunken cheers are heard amidst the packs of various friend groups.

"Yo! There's the man of the hour!" Wooyoung is ever the host as he’s quick to greet you two, shoving a can of beer into Seonghwa's hand while he slings an arm around his shoulder.

"M'lady," he playfully curtsies to you, despite the awkward entanglement of he and Seonghwa's limbs, "help yourself to some drinks. The boys want to take some celebratory shots to get things rolling!"

"Thanks, Woo!" You grin back at him and follow along as you're led toward the kitchen. Bottles of hard liquor amass the counter along with littered and forgotten red solo cups, some full and others empty.

The crowd is more dense in this room, all the soccer players packed around the island as they're downing shot after shot. Seonghwa is quick to join them, abandoning your company when he’s encouraged by their enthusiastic hooting.

The sight brings a smile to your face but your expression morphs into something unpleasant when he hooks his elbow with Yunho, both of them throwing down their beverages in unison.

You don't miss how Yunho's adam's apple bobs as he tips his glass back or how a dribble of tequila trails down his chin from his lips. When his eyes meet yours, they're narrowed playfully. There's a knowing glint behind his gaze that has you promptly turning on your heel.

With your back to the crowd, you're squeezing past the lot as you direct yourself elsewhere. You spare Mingi a pat in passing and maneuver toward the opposite side of the kitchen where you reach for a solo cup, opting to fill it from the massive dispenser of jungle juice in the corner. You make a mental note to come back for shots later once it's less crowded.

As you're filling your drink a hand lands on your shoulder, giving you a soft squeeze that makes you jolt in surprise. The liquid sloshes in your cup, narrowly missing your clothes. You turn to the perpetrator and immediately breathe a sigh of relief when you recognize the voice.

"Careful with that. It'll fuck you up good."

"Hongjoong! You scared the hell out of me!"

The man in question laughs and bumps his shoulder to yours. He's nursing his own drink which he holds up to you, nodding his head. Hongjoong and you go way back, both having an unspoken mutual respect for each other.

You've known him as long as you've known Seonghwa, but the both of them have been friends for many years prior so you have nothing on that. Even though he's not a part of the main roster, Hongjoong is the manager for the team, which makes him just as important.

The two of you met through Mingi and you both bonded instantly, enjoying each other's presence. You aren't necessarily close, but you're far from anything unfriendly. You’re also dating his best bud, so it was hard to avoid him if things were any different.

"Cheers!"

"Bottoms up, Joong."

You clink your plastic cup to his and you're both gulping down the booze in one go, a grimace overtaking your features as the concoction of alcohol and juice washes over you. Whatever that was, it was nasty.

“Dude, who made this? Isn’t jungle juice supposed to NOT taste like alcohol?”

“Probably some dumb ass.”

And that's how the rest of the night proceeds. In between failing to get Seonghwa's attention and socializing with various people (mostly Hongjoong), you're left to your own vices for nearly an hour. Like the others though, Hongjoong soon finds better company amongst his peers.

It hasn’t been long since your arrival yet you're feeling the effects of the alcohol already. Seonghwa has since been whisked away by his other friends, easily forgetting you in the midst of celebrations. It's nothing new, but the substance does help dull the pain.

To say you’re upset is an understatement. Does Seonghwa just not care? You even did up your makeup a little cuter today. Forgoing your usual attire, you wear a black strappy and skimpy little number tonight. You weren't one to usually show off your assets but it didn't matter since your efforts went unnoticed, leaving you high and dry.

Submitting defeat, you make up your mind and decide you would have fun regardless of your relationship. Fuck Seonghwa. You’re at a party, so you might as follow its intended purpose.

You've already made your rounds within the house several times, chatting amongst your friends only briefly before you wind back up in the kitchen. Although you're not quite drunk yet, you're definitely getting there as you begin to wobble over to the counter of spirits.

You're finishing your second helping of jungle juice once you've arrived at the island. A random liquor bottle is plucked from the selection and with the emptied solo cup in hand, you're quick to pour some expensive looking vodka, filling it halfway before you knock it back hastily. No chaser necessary. The sting is immediate, burning down your throat as you try not to gag down the rest.

Drinking the substance was akin to what you imagine rubbing alcohol tastes like. Disgusting, but it does the job. The cup is tossed aside and you wipe your mouth with your hand before you trudge toward the open doors of the backyard, the last area you've yet to explore for the night.

The moon now rises within the darkened skies, illuminating the expanse of the yard. From here, the music is a bit more muted and the chatter is quieter. Centered in the middle of the space was a pool, where some people were lounging about. Not a good spot for a tipsy girl like yourself.

Further to the side, the pungent smell of marijuana wafts from the corner where a large fire pit roars alive. Some familiar faces surround the area and from afar you can see they’re passing around a joint. You're quick to abandon your post by the doors, stumbling toward the lull of the flames.

"Miiiingi," you call out as you approach closer, slinging your arms around the said man.

Mingi turns slightly at the mention of his name and catches you just in time as you throw yourself into him, a loopy smile on your lips.

"Damn… You look,” he whistles lowly, “how many drinks have you had?"

"How do I look? And like... only a few!"

You drop your hold from him and step away to do a little drunk twirl, stumbling slightly. He raises his eyebrows in amusement but still claps his hands nonetheless.

"You look good enough to eat, babe. And I hope ‘a few’ doesn’t include the pitcher of that god awful jungle juice. I think Wooyoung threw anything and everything in there."

"Maaaaybe two of those and a shot!" A shot being that half cup of vodka earlier, which was basically two shots if you think about it. Mingi didn’t need to know that though.

He just shrugs his shoulders and smiles lightly. He wasn't one to stop you if you wanted to let loose. You grin and squeeze his hand once, thankful he wasn’t too concerned over your lack of sobriety. As you’re stepping around him and circling the fire pit, you greet the others surrounding you, not wishing to be rude.

To Mingi's left, your friends Yeosang, San and Jongho are in a deep debate as the lingering smoke from the weed and burning wood mixes within the air. They all wave at you and quickly return to their conversation. You think you hear something along the lines of whether or not mint chocolate chip is the superior ice cream flavor, but you don't really know.

To the opposite side of Mingi, Yunho nods his head to you as he reclines in a woven lawn chair with his legs spread apart. Even in your current state you don’t miss the way his eyes are greedily raking over your exposed form, taking in every inch of skin you’re showing. His actions have you shifting nervously on the balls of your feet and you don’t know how to approach him.

Regardless of the fact that you are ready or not, you have to face him now. Against your better judgment, you think you should enjoy his attention while you can and at this point, you were getting too drunk to care.

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol in your system or your disarray of emotions, but you can hardly ignore how the denim of his jeans hug his muscular thighs or how his white t-shirt rides up a little when he leans back, showing you just a sliver of his skin.

You’re both readily checking each other out and it makes you feel hot with shame. His eyes are hazy from the effects of the cannabis and he's taking a long drag before holding it up in your direction.

"Hey, princess. You want a hit?" A billow of smoke rolls over his lips as he speaks, voice low and gravelly from the dryness in his throat. You swear you’ve never seen anything sexier than the sight of him before you.

"Don't call me that," you murmur as you snatch the joint from his hand and inhale from it, sucking in a bit too sharply. The smoke that fills your lungs all too soon comes out in sputters and it has you coughing out several times.

The sound of Yunho's hearty and familiar laughter joined with Mingi's fills your ears, making your face burn with embarrassment. If you could dig a hole right now and hide in it, you would. You roll your eyes and pass the end of the blunt to Mingi while trying to recompose yourself.

"What brings you out here, pretty girl?" Yunho questions you, but you both know why. Mingi knows too, yet he chooses to ignore the unspoken tension between you two as he's too preoccupied finishing off the last of the joint.

"You know, the usual," you slur a bit as you speak, noting how the alcohol seems to pump more heavily through your veins, " — Hwa is too busy to pay attention to me so I may as well get as crossed as I can tonight."

"I told you that you should just break up with him." Mingi crushes the remainder of the joint under his shoe as he speaks, eyeing you warily.

"Yeah! You're clearly not having fun worrying about him!" Jongho suddenly butts into the conversation, his statement being followed by several nods and a chorus of verbal agreements from the rest of the boys.

"I wasn't aware that my relationship was everyone and their mother's business." You huff in response.

“Just because Hwa is our friend doesn’t mean we don’t know he’s a shitty boyfriend to you,” Yeosang pitches in.

“He’s not a bad guy. I just don’t know if he deserves that… And you guys make it sound like dumping him is the easiest thing in the world.”

You groan loudly at their insistent suggestions. All you've heard tonight is people telling you to break it off with him, but he’s still the man you fell in love with. You wish things weren’t so complicated.

“Him being a good guy is different from him being a good boyfriend. If you’re not happy, you shouldn’t stay with him,” San adds with a firm nod.

"Well whatever you do, they’re still right,” you're about to complain again but Yunho is quick to grab your hand, “Like Jongho said, you're not having fun, so let's go dance."

He’s standing up abruptly as he tugs on your hand, leading you back inside and toward the lively mass of dancing bodies within the house. The boys cheer in unison and follow suit, filing into the packed living room.

Within the dim space the lights are set down low and in the area where the speakers occupy there’s a set of disco lights atop, flickering from corner to corner, the gradient of multiple hues bobbing every which way.

Your group is weaving through the crowd of bodies until you’re all within the center of the dancing where you’re being sandwiched between both Mingi and Yunho. The room is unbearably hot, yet you’re too intoxicated to care as you lose yourself to the sultry song that plays through the house.

In front of you Mingi is clutching onto your shoulders as he easily moves himself to the beat of the music, swaying from side to side. From behind Yunho is holding your waist and you feel him bumping against your backside as he dances. You almost feel overwhelmed between the two men, but your arms loop around Mingi’s torso and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to rock against their bodies.

The boys brought you inside to have fun and you don’t want to waste the rest of the night worrying about your relationship. You’re between two ridiculously handsome men, so you might as well indulge a little.

Yunho's breath is hot against your neck as you drop your head back on his shoulder, eyes fluttering open to meet his half lidded stare. Beneath his stare is the look of something unidentifiable again, a dangerous and lustful glint. The movements never stop even as his grip tightens around you, his large hands over your hips.

"You look so fucking sexy tonight," Yunho's whisper is almost lost to the volume of the music but you hear him clearly as he mutters into your ear. You bite your lip at his compliment and feel your body heating up.

"Want to rip this tiny dress off your body." He continues his onslaught of suggestive words, not faltering even as you press yourself instinctively to his crotch.

You're not surprised that he's hard against your ass but you are shocked by the sheer feeling of his size outlined beneath the fabric of his denim. Even with the jeans covering him, you can tell that the rumors are definitely true.

The thought of his dick alone has something stirring within your loins and you can't help but to grind yourself harder against his growing erection as a whine threatens to bubble up from your throat.

"You like that, princess?" His hold slides down from your waist and he toys with the hem of your dress, fingers dancing along the material teasingly.

His blatant flirting has you feeling nervous but you can't deny how turned on you are at the way he touches and gropes at you within the public eye.

Mingi is either too high to care or completely unaware of the situation as his body bumps against yours. His elbows slack on your shoulders but you can tell he's enjoying himself from the dopey grin he has as he's watching the scene unfold before him. So much for heeding his warning about Yunho. He didn't even seem to care anymore.

If not for your friend dancing alongside you, the sight of you rubbing yourself against Yunho would definitely look suspicious. At this point, you're not sure if being caught in the act bothers you though. You're much too faded and you're reveling in the feeling of both their hands all over you. Any guilt that still threatens to ruin your night is now easily disregarded.

The actions of your bodies gyrating against each other has made your dress ride up, revealing more of your already exposed thighs. With the way your lacy black underwear is just barely beginning to peek out beneath your skimpy dress, it takes Yunho everything in his willpower not to spread your legs right there and fuck you with his fingers.

You don't notice your indecency, but Yunho certainly does. Luckily he and Mingi are there to block the view from any prying eyes. He wouldn't want to share such a sinful sight with anyone else anyway.

"Do you want to take this upstairs?"

You should say no, but you find yourself nodding instead and allowing him to pull you backwards.

Mingi doesn’t seem to mind the absence of your body and easily bids you both farewell as he drunkenly looks for a new dance partner once you're both stumbling through the mass of moving bodies.

With his larger hand clasped over yours, Yunho is leading you through the string of scattered party goers until you're both practically tripping up the stairs.

You know you should acknowledge the feeling of shame that looms over you, but there's a thrum of excitement filling your senses. The thrill of entertaining such a heinous act drives you further into some sick type of high.

As you and Yunho are both hurrying to his room, you fail to see your boyfriend hovering close by the bottom of the stairwell. The drink he has is downed in one go before he's crushing the cup in his hand and tossing it over his shoulder. There is a surge of alcohol and rage pumping through his blood as he begins to ascend the steps after you.

When you reach Yunho’s room, he leads you inside and kicks the door shut behind him. Although the room is pitch black it doesn’t stop how he clutches onto your waist and pushes you into the door as he begins to kiss you heavily.

There is no hesitance to claim your lips while his large hands are eager to explore the expanse of your scantily clad body. His touch is everywhere at once and you're breathless as he attacks your lips with fervor, drinking in your kisses whilst groaning breathlessly into your mouth.

It shouldn't feel so good to have him touching you, but each brush of his fingers feels electrifying on your skin, driving you more mad with each passing second.

All too soon he's pulling away from your mouth and backing up until you hear the click of him switching on the lamp nearby. A dull light floods the space, the interior of his room filling your vision. You’re momentarily distracted and briefly take a minute to examine the minute details of his living arrangements.

By the corner rests a black recliner and a shelf lined with family photos and awards from the numerous sports he’s played. Miscellaneous equipment and video games are scattered about the room amongst his various clothes. Everything looked pretty standard for a college guy like himself.

When he sees you're preoccupied taking in the sight of your surroundings, he uses the chance to shed his clothes, leaving only his boxer briefs. Once done, he's quick to lay back on his mattress, which rests at the center of his room and he sits up against the pillows while motioning for you to come closer.

You don't move at first, eyes zeroing in on the man who lays before you. Despite the lamp’s dull luminance you can still make out the toned muscles that sculpt his lean figure. Beneath his abs, a faint trial of his hair disappears beneath the band of his undergarments. The shape of his erection straining against the fabric of his underwear has you squirming in place.

“Princess, my eyes up here.” Immediately your head snaps up to meet his smug look, grin tugging at his lips. Even with the short garb on your body, you feel suddenly overdressed when you ogle his bare form.

He’s staring at you beneath his heavy lids, lust evident within his eyes. The effects of the marijuana still clouds his mind but he's never felt better.

“Strip for me.” The command rings in your ears, a low timber in his voice as his hand creeps over his present bulge. He’s no sooner palming himself, stroking himself through his underwear.

The sight has your mouth going dry, arousal encouraging your actions when you begin to sway your hips before him. You don't know if it's the intoxication or just the raw desire to fuck him that fuels your next actions. The sight of him spread out before you and stroking his cock certainly contributes to your newfound bravado.

You’re clumsily dancing and shimmying the dress off, your body rolling as the straps slide off your shoulders and droop down to reveal your bare breasts. When the fabric drops past your waist and to the floor, you clumsily kick the article aside and move toward the edge of the bed.

The lacy black underwear that previously taunted Yunho is now on full display as you begin to make your way onto the bed, both knees sinking into the mattress as you crawl toward him on all fours. He’s groaning as he watches your tantalizing prowl, squeezing himself hard through his delicates.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, your figure approaching closer until you hover before him, straddling his thighs.

Your mouths reconnect when you settle over him, letting your clothed mound rest on his lap before you begin to drag yourself against his length. The friction between your loins draws another noise from him as he's eagerly returning your kiss, tongue and teeth clashing with hunger.

His hands find purchase on your waist, sliding up your body and cupping your breasts as he begins to roll himself under you. As he carefully tweaks your nipples you whine into his mouth, each kiss growing more messy, your lips swollen as he devours you.

He doesn’t know if he can handle another second of being trapped beneath you as he rubs against you through the flimsy garments separating you. You feel so good and he's not even inside you yet.

The kiss is broken when he sinks further into his pillows, arching forward impatiently in a struggle to remove his underwear. Not wanting to laugh at his attempts, you lift yourself from him and help slide the offending article down his legs.

His erection springs free from its confines and your jaw goes slack when you finally take in the size of his cock. Seeing it under his boxers was one thing but this… The rumors definitely didn’t do him justice. Watching him twitch against his stomach with his precum pooling at the tip of his length makes you think you’ve never wanted to taste something as much as his dick.

When you look up to Yunho, he has his ever present shit eating grin. He knows you’re impressed and he revels in the attention, enjoying how your expression morphs from shock to pure desire.

Once you've recollected yourself he grasps the sides of your panties and tugs them impatiently. The position has you struggling to remove the lingerie but he opts to rip the fabric instead, tearing down the sides and tossing the remnants elsewhere as you’re left to gape at his hastiness.

“Those were my favori-” You struggle to verbalize your next words as a gasp escapes you when you suddenly feel his hand cupping your exposed sex.

“I was going to ruin them one way or another,” he says with a roll of his eyes as his fingers delicately run along the arousal that has collected between your folds. He experimentally rubs his thumb against your clit, watching as your body trembles from his featherweight touch.

“You’re already this wet for me? Naughty girl.”

“Shut up,” you murmur as you slap his hand away and situate yourself back on his lap, letting him feel your wetness against the length of his erection.

“Sorry, princess.” He throws his arms up in mock surrender but they're no sooner on your thighs as you both continue to hump against each other, the feeling of skin to skin unbearable as he bites back a moan.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” The tip of his cock brushes past your clit, easily sliding back and forth along your opening once you're rocking yourself faster atop him.

“You seem to like it,” he says with a knowing tone and he squeezes both your thighs, though he sounds just as breathless as he looks beneath you. His eyes are fluttering with each movement, chest rising as he tries to maintain his last ounce of self control.

He's been patient, allowing you to grind yourself on him, but he wants nothing more than to grab your hips and impale you on his cock, stretching you out so good that you can't think.

You're both gasping quietly against each other and it's only until you hear the door open that you're both scrambling for the sheets to cover yourselves.

“So, this is where you two went.” Seonghwa’s firm voice fills your ears, making your entire body freeze up as you come to a halt.

You've never heard him more angry and you're nervous to face him but you find yourself slowly twisting your head over your shoulder as you're met with his enraged glare.

Yunho stiffens beneath you and opens his mouth to speak but the other man holds up his palm to signal his silence. Your boyfriend closes the door behind him, not uttering a word as he takes a seat on the recliner that's situated in the corner.

The tension is thick but you can’t help the bewilderment showing on your expression as you watch him settle into the leather, spreading his legs wide while he dips his hand into his pants.

“Don’t stop on my account. Carry on.” There is a dangerous hint behind his tone and you can feel his anger radiating off him in waves but the thought of him watching as Yunho fucks you makes you even more turned on.

You’re unsure of what's going on anymore at this point, but even in your confusion you know you don't want to disobey Seonghwa. The guilt that you had been ignoring all night hits you tenfold, sitting present in your consciousness. Despite this, your arousal is obvious as your pussy grows messier, drooling on the cock beneath you. It's apparent to him as he twitches against your sex and he catches on quickly, though initially he seems just as shocked as you by Seonghwa’s admission.

It doesn't take a second longer for Yunho to recognize the look behind Seonghwa’s eyes and he has a twisted smirk pulling at his lips in realization. Before you can protest, he suddenly takes ahold of your hips and lifts you with ease before he's sliding you down the entirety of his length. Your walls drag past his cock, swallowing him whole as he fills you to the hilt.

The noise of surprise that escapes you rings high when you feel him stretching you apart. He’s much bigger than Seonghwa and you don't think you've ever felt so full in your life. If you weren't already so wet, you knew the stretch would sting much more than it did. You're so clouded with pleasure that the pain is barely present.

“You like watching your girl get fucked by someone else, Hwa?” He taunts your boyfriend, snide in his tone as he ruts himself up into you. You whine loudly.

The man in question only responds with a grunt, his eyes trained on the view of your pussy swallowing his huge cock. Seonghwa squeezes himself harder and begins to pump into his hand, gritting his teeth.

“You're both so fucking nasty. You love this, don’t you?” Even as Yunho sneers, he doesn’t stop rocking his hips.

“Look how well she takes me, Hwa. You like seeing her little cunt stretched out by another man’s dick?” This time Seonghwa moans in response. His jeans have been kicked aside and he's left in his shirt, jerking himself in his palm as he watches you both through his hazy eyes.

With your head overlooking your shoulder, you still don't entirely know what's happening, but the sight of your boyfriend fucking his hand makes you overwhelmed with the need to press on. Knowing you're both getting off as he watches you get plowed has your stomach churning with some sick sense of pleasure.

Suddenly you feel Yunho’s hand cupping your chin, forcing your eyes away from Seonghwa. As you both stare at each other, you’re readily bouncing yourself on his lap, sinking deeper onto his cock with your every movement. You’re greedy to have him inside you, enjoying how each thrust has him filling your pussy so well.

There’s a sound of clattering from the other side of the room and you want to turn your head, but the hand gripping your chin is firm. Seeing his eyes flicker behind you makes your curiosity grow, but when you feel a hot breath against the back of your neck you now know that Seonghwa has joined you on the bed.

His presence has the man beneath you waning his pace, his hips working in a slow and sensual grind. As he hovers behind you his nose runs along your nape where his lips latch down on your skin. His teeth drag against your shoulder and you're whining quietly when he bites down particularly hard.

“Did you miss me so bad that you had to cheat me on with my own teammate?” Seonghwa is speaking against your skin, but he doesn't stop nipping at you, sucking harshly until you begin to bruise beneath his lips. You don't know how to respond, your body trembling as he continues to press at you.

“You think you can just fuck Yunho and get away with it?” Shaking your head, you let out a meek ‘no’ as his fingers tangle within your hair.

“Get up.” Seonghwa has never spoken to you with a tone like this before. It fills you with apprehension but your body is still thrumming with arousal and you're quick to follow his instructions, whimpering when you slide off of Yunho’s lap.

Yunho wishes to pull you back onto him but he hesitates, deciding he wants to watch how the scene unfolds. Even then, his cock continues to throbs as he takes note of how an intensity is overtaking the normally sweet and kind Seonghwa.

Your boyfriend leads you by your hair, ignoring you as you whimper out in a pained protest. You’re forced onto your hands and knees, your head hovering between the apex of his legs as he presses his hard cock against your mouth.

“You're going to let me use your mouth like the disgusting whore that you are, got it?” You feel yourself clenching at his words, nodding as your tongue darts out to taste the head to his dick. It's been so long since you've had him, you're desperate for his cock. He scoffs at your eagerness.

Seonghwa grasps his length, smearing his precum against your mouth as he uses his free hand to motion the other man forward. Yunho is no sooner scrambling toward you both, pupils blown wide with anticipation as he awaits further instruction.

“Go ahead.”

His words are all that Yunho needs to hear. Holding your hips once again he grabs you from behind and he begins to sheath his cock back within the slick warmth of your hole, relishing in how tightly your walls surround him. You both moan loudly. At the same time Seonghwa slides himself past your lips, the hand within your locks tightening their hold when he eases himself into your throat.

Your eyes flit up to watch him as his lips are pulled back in a displeased scowl. You've never seen him so upset and it makes you remorseful knowing you're the cause of his distress but at the same time he’s never looked so sexy glaring down at you.

He catches your stare but continues to frown even as his cock twitches in your mouth. His fingers fist at your tresses, guiding you further down his shaft until your nose is flush to his pelvic bone.

You're breathing heavily through your nostrils as you continue to look at each other, your eyes watering with tears. He doesn't move, but instead allows Yunho to bury into you. The snap of his hips against your backside causes your body to jerk forward, forcing Seonghwa’s tip to hit the back of your throat. He’s groaning when you gag against him, the action clearly catching you in surprise.

“Such a needy slut. Just one dick wasn't enough for you, huh?” You whine against him, drooling over his length as Yunho sets the tempo for how fast your head is bobbing along his cock. He’s pounding into you harder, enjoying the sight of you struggling to suck the other off while he's working open your tight pussy.

“You should lighten up, Hwa,” he says between thrusts as he reaches out with one arm to grab the older man.

“Are you serious? What the hell does that mean?” Seonghwa’s fingers slacken as he peers over at the goalie, his dick pulsing in your mouth while he’s watching you get fucked.

You're thankful for the moment of reprise but your eyes go wide as you watch Yunho hover above you, grabbing Seonghwa by his hair and pulling him in for a kiss.

You gurgle on Seonghwa’s cock at the sight, your pussy clenching down tightly as the two begin to make out before you. To say your boyfriend is shocked is an understatement, but he’s quick to indulge in the kiss, clearly as aroused as you are.

Yunho has some type of unexplainable charm to him. Whatever he's doing, it clearly affects Seonghwa just as much as it does you.

Their mouths are locked together, wet kisses amidst their tongues intertwining as you feel Yunho begin to rock his hips again. The movement has all three of you moaning and encourages you to begin sucking harder on the cock inside your mouth.

There is saliva coating your lips as you're bobbing your head down the length of Seonghwa’s erection, more drool dripping down your chin while you're sloppily getting your face fucked.

When Yunho breaks the kiss there is a line of spit stretching between them as they're both panting heavily, trying to regain their breaths. The taller of the two ushers the hand away from your locks, taking a hold of your hair before he’s tugging your head back as he withdraws slowly, pulling himself completely out of you.

Seonghwa’s dick pops out from your mouth when you’re yanked back and he’s left staring at your desperate form below him, your body wiggling with need at the loss of Yunho.

“Take this as a lesson, Hwa. You’re in a win-win situation, no?” Even as Yunho says this, the other’s expression twists between a flurry of emotions. The confusion is written all over his face, but something seems to click in his brain as he watches Yunho slam into your squelching hole with a single powerful motion.

Seonghwa feels humiliated as he watches his lover enjoy another man’s cock so readily yet his own arousal throbs with need when Yunho continues to coax him. He can’t help the hand that slips between his thighs, palming his aching length again as the goalie continues to ravage your body before him.

When Yunho’s fingers tangle within your tresses he cannot deny how much he’s enjoying the way your back arches as he begins to pound himself into you relentlessly, his pace steady and calculated. Despite the sting of your scalp and how the position aches on your back, your cries are immediately filling the room, loud and pitchy.

“You see, Seonghwa. This,” he grunts and thrusts heavily as he’s plowing into your cunt, enjoying how you clench around him so greedily, “— is how you should be fucking her.”

Your boyfriend is fisting his cock harder, biting his lower lip as he stares down at you. You’re barely meeting his gaze, tears lining your eyes as you whimper and moan. Each movement of the man behind you has you lurching forward, your torso threatening to sink forward if not for the constraint on your hair.

Looking to Seonghwa seems impossible as your eyes roll back into your head, so consumed with pleasure that you can hardly think properly. The guilt that previously haunted you is already dissipating with every sinful plunge of Yunho’s hips.

“Does Seonghwa fuck you like this, princess?” He jerks at your hair again, a guttural noise spilling from him when he feels how you constrict around his girth.

“Answer me, naughty girl. Does his cock feel as good as mine?” He stills his movements and his eyes are lighting with amusement as he watches you twist in place, writhing around for his cock.

“No, damn it! Fuck me, p-please, Yunho!” You practically shout, overcome with need as you’re whining and clutching at the bedsheets, rutting back against his pelvis. He’s ecstatic to hear your begging and he resumes his pace, watching as you immediately fall into a state of euphoria and begin garbling a string of unintelligible noises.

“Such a cock hungry girl. Don’t you enjoy seeing her like this?”

“Y…Yeah,” The older of the two manages to sputter out his reply between his breathy groans, his eyes glazing over. He’s clutching the entirety of his dick, tip leaking at the display of your ruined and blissful state before him.

“How about I give you a taste?”

“Huh?” Seonghwa’s brain short circuits at the suggestion and he glimpses up to meet Yunho’s darkening stare. The look the taller man gives him has him swallowing thickly, his eyes flickering down to watch as he slides his cock out of your fluttering hole.

“A taste,” the goalie repeats as he holds his length up, the dim lighting reflecting the trail of your juices that glisten along his shaft. Seonghwa hesitates at first but finds himself nodding.

You want to complain when Yunho withdraws from you again, but you have no time to as he's hoisting you up right into a kneeling position. The fogginess of the pleasure begins to clear from your mind though you can still feel yourself clenching around nothing as the heat within you simmers to a pulse between your legs.

Like you, Seonghwa is eagerly anticipating Yunho's next actions, unsure of what to expect. He’s thrilled at the prospect of having his turn with the larger man, his body alight in flames. The anger has seemingly diminished from him, only a hot wave of lust coursing through his veins.

The effects of the alcohol is still present in his body, but he knows he's not delirious when he realizes just how delighted he seems at the idea of tasting Yunho’s big cock. He doesn't know if he can blame you anymore when he seems just as excited to submit to the other.

Yunho is maneuvering off the mattress, walking around to the front until he's facing you both. He motions for you to scoot back and you do so obediently, eyes wide as you await for what's to come.

“Turn around, Seonghwa.” As swift as he can, he practically gets tangled in the bed sheets when he turns his back to the goalie. The action has him locking eyes with you, face burning up when he suddenly begins to feel shy about the notion of you witnessing his submissiveness.

“Good boy. Now lay back for me.” Seonghwa shivers at the compliment, his cock twitching against his thigh as he falls back on the bed, his head hanging off the edge. It's in this position that he realizes what's about to happen, though he’s not sure if he's prepared. It didn’t make him any less excited though.

“Think you can take my cock?” Simultaneously the blood rushes to his head and his erection at the question. He nods eagerly and wets his lips, mouth dropping open. He’s never done something like this before yet he’s too thrilled to pass up the opportunity.

Yunho steps forward and presses the tip of his cock against the man’s lips, humming appreciatively as his tongue darts out to circle around the tip.

“Your boyfriend is so hungry for my dick. Doesn’t he look cute? So needy.” You squeeze your thighs together and moan, the sight of the two men shooting straight to your core in a rush of wetness.

“So pretty, Hwa…” You join in the praises as Yunho tenderly strokes along your lover's jaw, thumb grazing his lower lip before he’s sliding the first few inches of his length into Seonghwa's mouth.

The praise shoots straight to Seonghwa’s loins, his dick pulsing with arousal as he’s taking the cock further down his throat. He’s compliant and docile as Yunho eases deeper, his eyes trained on the sight of his dick bulging from the other’s throat.

“So good,” Yunho groans quietly and clasps his palm around your lover’s neck, wanting to feel his own outline stretching his throat. Your mouth waters at the sight, not wanting to be left out while you’re watching Yunho slowly fuck himself into your boyfriend’s mouth. The scene before you has you dripping with desire.

“C-Can I?” A single nod from Yunho is all you need and you’re no sooner clambering toward Seonghwa. In his position the man doesn’t notice your movement as he’s so focused trying to hollow his cheeks around Yunho’s cock.

When he feels the familiar weight of your body settling on top of him, he starts to gag when you suddenly sink down on his erection, clearly catching him off guard. Yunho’s length slips from his mouth in the process and he’s sputtering quietly, trying to regain his bearings.

You’re straddling your boyfriend and dropping onto his lap, his cock getting swallowed by the warmth of your hungry walls. Seeing how he jerks up beneath you it spurs you to bounce harder on his dick, letting him stuff you full.

“Missed your cock, Hwa…” He moans at your words and flutters his eyes, his jaw slack as he feels Yunho sliding himself back into his mouth. Seonghwa is so overcome with pleasure, his body blazing with lust that he can barely process what’s happening to him. He’s never felt bliss like this before — having his lover fuck herself onto him as his mouth is being used.

Seonghwa looks so fucked out as he’s splayed across the mattress, his hair messy and his body sheen with his sweat while you’re both stimulating him. Yunho welcomes the display wholeheartedly, grinding himself into the other’s face, groaning as saliva and drool coats his cock.

“Such a good boy, aren’t you, Hwa? You like when I fuck your mouth? You miss her pussy around your cock?” A garbled noise comes from the man, his throat tightening as his hips buck up in response. You feel his cock pulsing within you with each sinful word that leaves Yunho’s mouth. You know he’s close but you’ve yet to scratch the surface of your orgasm as you begin to rock yourself faster on his lap.

Quickening your pace you slip your fingers between your thighs and begin to rub your clit as you’re bouncing yourself on Seonghwa’s cock, each movement dragging him back within your sopping core. The man beneath you is trying to meet your thrusts, his hands falling over your thighs and gripping tight as he begins chasing his climax.

Seonghwa’s eyes are screwed shut, breathing heavily through his nose and he’s letting out choked and muffled noises of pleasure. The need to cum is urgent and the feeling of your walls squeezing around his length has him realizing just how much he misses your tight little pussy.

He no longer focuses on sucking Yunho’s cock, simply allowing the other to abuse his throat as he fucks himself into your cunt. The drool that dribbles down his face is evidence of Yunho’s own pace growing sloppy, his release not far behind.

“Come for me, baby,” you gasp to him, your back arching as you feel the heat of your orgasm stirring in your belly. You’re leaning forward against his torso, your chest flush to his as you’re lifting your ass and slamming it back onto his lap repeatedly. The sound of your skin slapping resonates throughout the room, pace increasing with a hurried need as you’re moaning into his neck.

Feeling a similar air of impatience, Yunho holds Seonghwa by his hair and pulls himself back before he’s thrusting forward powerfully. The single motion of Yunho’s cock hitting the back of his throat causes the male to gurgle in discomfort but the goalie doesn’t pull away and he groans deeply, his cock spasming in the other’s mouth until he’s spurting his thick and milky seeds down Seonghwa’s throat.

At the same time, your lover feels how your hole clenches and gushes around his cock. The needy pace you’re rocking against him has his length throbbing within you. Your actions combined with the lack of air in his lungs and the impact of Yunho’s thrusts into his mouth has his vision going spotty. His thighs shake and he’s seeing white as he orgasms hard and abruptly, his load filling your cunt with rope after rope of his hot release.

As he’s climaxing, he’s struggling to swallow the cum in his mouth, most of it spilling out past his lips and dripping down his nose and down his cheeks. When Yunho finally pulls away, Seonghwa is coughing and sputtering as he tries to regain his breath. The high of his orgasm is still clouding his mind even as he’s left a panting mess.

On top of him, you’re still desperately trying to chase your own crescendo as you work yourself feverishly on his lap. Your fingers are slick and slippery with your arousal, gliding over your clit over and over as your cunt begins to convulse around Seonghwa’s cock.

You’re both still moaning and you’re riding out his orgasm, your own looming closely. Yunho is stroking Seonghwa’s cheek, moving away the strands of hair that stick to his sweat laden face. He has already recovered from his own climax and leans down to purr encouragingly into Seonghwa’s ear.

“Such a good boy. Make our princess cum, hm?”

Seonghwa keens at the other’s words and snaps his hips upward, driving himself into you with the last semblance of his strength. Your eyes are blearily focusing below you, taking in the view of your sweaty and fucked out boyfriend who’s so determined to make you come.

Similarly the sight of Yunho hovering before your lover with his cum painted on Seonghwa’s face has you shaking with arousal, your thighs quivering when you feel yourself coming undone on your boyfriend’s cock. With a final slide of your digits past your swollen nub, you peak into your orgasm, his slowed thrusts combined with your sloppy movements sending you over the edge.

Your hole squeezes around his cock and your juices mix in with his release as you finally climax. He can barely take the overstimulation as you clench around him a final time, your bodies coming to a still. Even after you’re past your high, he can still feel the after effects that are evident from your fluttering walls.

Once you’re finished, you tiredly slump against his torso, your skin sticking together from the perspiration that covers both your bodies. You’re too worn out to move, simply resting against your lover’s chest as you both breathe quietly. The fatigue overtakes you before you know it and your eyes are falling shut before you can stop yourself.

You don’t know how much time passes before you awake but someone has helped you clean up and you now lay cozily beneath Yunho’s blankets. Between a series of blinking and yawning, you groggily note that Seonghwa lays beside you peacefully, his eyes widening with joy as he’s watching you come to.

“Hey, sleepy girl.”

There’s a pregnant pause and you try to recollect your thoughts, trying to recall all that has happened up to this moment. Dread and realization falls over you immediately and you’re shooting up, blanket slipping off you. With your back straight, you hastily try to get up from the bed as a feeling of panic floods you.

You fucked up, you fucked up. You royally fucked up!

“Woah, woah. Slow down, babe.” Your boyfriend coos softly and tries to work you down, pushing you back against the mattress and rubbing your shoulders in slow and soothing motions.

“How are you being so calm? I literally just cheated on you!”

Seonghwa scratches the back of his head nervously and looks away for a moment before he grasps both of your hands, squeezing them in his palms.

“Listen, uh… I gave it some thought and I think Yunho is right.” Your jaw drops.

“Huh?”

As if on cue Yunho steps into the bedroom, one towel around his waist while he’s drying his hair with another. He blinks in surprise at you both but smiles nonetheless, taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

“Oh good! You’re awake, princess.”

“What the hell is going on?” You look between the pair in confusion.

“Long story short, I know I’ve been a bad boyfriend but I think Yunho can help us work through some of that. I mean… if you’re down, of course.”

“I-I… I mean. What? Are you sure? Yeah, I-I think I am down.” They chuckle at your rambling.

Despite all that has happened, you never expected this type of proposal from Seonghwa. You honestly thought you would wake up to the shit show of him dumping you after you all sobered up.

Yunho somehow worked his magic on the both of you and to your benefit as well. Even with your circumstances, you can’t deny the idea of it all excites you. You just knew that Mingi would have a field day after he found out.

“I’m still mad at you though. You could have just talked to me,” he tuts at you, shaking his head slightly.

“I tried, Hwa! You were always too busy!”

“You’re right and I’m sorry. That was definitely my bad but it’s alright, babe. I’ll make sure we make it up to each other. Plus we have Yunho now.” A tremble of excitement runs down your spine at the mention of your new partner.

Seonghwa has an adoring look in his eyes, though there is a dangerous intent behind his smile as he reaches up to gently stroke your cheek.

“I know you won’t betray me again though. We’ll make sure of it.”

His words have you nervous and aroused, rubbing your thighs together as you feel a heat pooling in your lower belly.

Beside you Yunho sports his own wolfish grin when he meets your stare, placing his hand over your thigh and rubbing circles close to your sex. “Hwa is kind of scary when he’s mad, huh? Don’t worry though, princess. When he’s begging for my cock, you can help me make sure he’s the one being a good boy.”

#cyberpxnkwrites #sry for any typos i don't have a beta reader hehe #ateez x reader #ateez ff #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunhwa #yunhwa x reader #yunho x seonghwa #jeong yunho x reader #park seonghwa x reader

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yandere-daydreams · 2 years

Text

Title: Clingy.

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Wanderer x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: AFAB!Reader, Modern AU, Non/Con, Blood, Intimidation/Threats of Violence, Toxic Relationships, Emotional Abuse, Slight Financial Abuse, and Codependent Behavior.

[Part Two]

On your third date, your boyfriend-at-the-time demanded that you give him a spare key to your ‘shitty shoebox of an apartment’, despite refusing to so much as let you into the penthouse Ei had leased for him while going to a university a hundred or so miles away from the multi-story, marble sculpted, beachside mansion he’d reluctantly flown you out to when he got sick of listening to you ask why he still hadn't introduced you to his moms eight months into your relationship. That probably should’ve been your first red flag, but somehow, you’d persisted. He brought out your competitive side, like that.

He made you want to dig your nails in, plant your teeth in your neck, and refuse to let go. It wasn’t good for you, but nothing he did was good for anyone. That never stopped him from doing it, though.

You could only assume that this – Kunikuzushi, your boyfriend of eighteen months and your ex-boyfriend of one, splayed across the couch in your living room, the keys he’d never given back dangling from his ring finger and the phone you’d forgotten when you left for work that morning in the other – wasn’t going to be good for you, either.

You didn’t say anything at first. It was all you could do to groan, to shake your head, to pretend you didn’t see him or didn’t care long enough to throw your messenger bag onto the nearest chair and tear off your jacket. He’d clearly made himself at home. A textbook was open on your coffee table, a drink from the cheap, trendy café he’d always whined about having to take you to sitting half-empty next to it. He wasn’t looking at either, though, his attention entirely centered on your phone. You didn’t have the energy to pretend to be surprised. He used to like to go through your conversations and delete the contacts he ‘didn’t trust’ when you were together, too, but you’d been more willing to write it off as the cute-but-concerning tick of a jealous boyfriend, back then. You must’ve fallen out of practice after your breakup.

You opened your mouth, but he was ultimately the one to break the silence. “You know Ajax?”

You crossed your arms. “Why are you here?”

“I mean, I know you’re in the same microbiology course, but c’mon, him? The fucker couldn’t tell a proton from a nucleolus. Honestly, I’m surprised he hadn’t flunked out yet. Give it another semester - he’ll be gone by spring, I promise.”

“I didn’t say you could come over.”

“I texted you last night. Did you try to block me again?” You’d blocked him, then reported his number, then changed yours when he’d started using burner phones to drunk dial you in the small hours of the morning and leave disjointed, rambling voice mails about how well he was doing without you, how much time he had now that you weren’t pestering him, how many people he’d slept with since the last time you'd seen each other. All of it was bullshit, obviously, but it was his bullshit. Somehow, he always knew just how to get under your skin. “Scratch that – I’ll take care of it. I should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to get through a month without my help.”

You grit your teeth. Swallowing as much of your anger as you could, you stepped in front of him, snatching your phone out of his hands and retreating before he had a chance to take it back. You were tempted to look at what he’d been scrolling through, see which conversation had gotten him so upset, but you forced yourself to turn off your phone completely, to set it down on the far side of your coffee table and think about something else. It’d take hours to fix the damage he’d done, to unblock all the acquaintances he didn’t approve of and the apologize to all the friends he'd insulted under your name. You’d rather get rid of him first, then try to fix everything he'd already started to tear apart. “Get out.”

He scanned over you, his eyes lingering on the wrinkles in your button-up shirt, the cheap material of your dress pants. “Y'know, if we were still together, you wouldn’t have to put up with that shitty job. You could just quit and finally move in with me.”

Once, you’d let him buy you a new laptop when yours gave out in the middle of the semester and you didn’t think you’d be able to scrape enough up for another before you next exam. It’d been a used model, already a few years out of date, and you swore up and down that you’d pay him back when you had the money, but he’d held it over your head for months, smirked and gloated and taken every opportunity to remind you how grateful you should be to have a boyfriend so willing to spoil his oh-so-unfortunate partner. He hadn’t let you pay him back. He hadn’t let you pay for anything until he’d gotten tired of playing savior and went back to acting like a brat, too desperate for your attention to care if he was in-charge. You doubt he’d be any more bearable if you actually moved in with him, if you lived in his house and relied on his good-will. If you actually depended on him.

But, rather trying to say any of that in a way he’d understand, you sighed, clenching your eyes shut. “It’s an internship and I need it for my major. Get out.”

His scowl wavered. “When did you get so bossy? This isn’t going to work if you think you can tell me what to do.”

“I’m not bossy, you’re just a prick. Get out.”

He sat up, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Cut it out. I’m not going to want to get back together if you keep acting so immature.

“I don’t want to get back together with you.” And then, gesturing towards your door. “Get. Out.”

If nothing else, that seemed to shut him up.

It took a few seconds, but eventually, he responded. There was an airy laugh, a thin smile, a certain air of hurt disbelief as he sat up. “You really aren't kidding, are you?”

You didn’t indulge him with a reaction. Rather, you watched with a pressed scowl as he pushed himself to his feet and stepped toward you. He was in his usually ‘too cool to try, but too bored not to’ get-up – ripped jeans and long sleeves striped in black and violet, half a dozen rings and bolts pierced into the curve of each ear and a belt from a brand you couldn’t name, but knew you were supposed to tacked on to further feed into his ego. He must’ve been here all day. His short hair was more disheveled than he usually liked it to be, and you could see more irritation in his dark eyes than you were used to, paired with a certain type of frustration that only ever slipped out when you managed to keep him waiting. You hadn’t, technically (you couldn’t be late to meet someone who you didn’t want to see), but you didn’t bother trying to point that out.

“I thought it’d be nice to see you after… How long? Five weeks?” He glanced down, starting to toy with something in his back pocket. “I thought we could order lunch, talk for a while, maybe watch a movie or something. Then, I don’t know…” His smile took on an apologetic lull, almost pleading. “Kiss and make up? It’s not like any of this is new for us.”

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been together for a year and a half, and most of that had been spent caught up in ear-splitting, tear-inducing, world-ending fights. He’d burn the notes you borrowed from your classmate, and you'd refuse to talk to him for a week. You’d decide you were over his constant mood swings and go on a date with the cute guy from your calculus class, and he’d mail a slab of raw meat to your best friend because, in his own words, ‘you couldn’t come up with such a stupid idea by yourself’. It wasn’t balanced, you would never be able to give as much as he took, but still. When he started yelling, you did too, and when he showed up at your door a few days later, his eyes still bloodshot from crying, you always took him back. Because he was Kunikuzushi. Because you loved him.

Because you knew he’d make your life hell, if you didn’t.

Which was exactly why you couldn’t just… kiss and make up, this time. Not if it’d mean swallowing your pride and letting him get everything he wanted.

You sighed, but kept your arms crossed, your expression stern. “I’m tired, Kuni. I don’t want to do this anymore.” You paused, bit down on the side of your tongue. “It’s not good for either of us. We’re not good together. I don’t want to pretend that we are.”

His smile wavered, but didn’t fall. “What do you mean, babe?”

“I mean,” You braced yourself, shut your eyes. “I think you should leave.”

At least he seemed to hear that. You watched with as little sympathy as you could manage as his grin cracked and fell away, as his shoulders slumped downward, as he let out an airy chuckle that cracked halfway through. “You’re breaking up with me?”

“We broke up a month ago.” And he’s been insufferable ever since. “And we’re not getting back together.”

Parted lips, glassy eyes. He raked a hand through his bangs, doing what he could to blink away the tears slowly forming in the corners of his eyes. This wasn’t new, and yet, you still found yourself struggling not to break, not to embrace him and mutter soothing nothings while he sobbed quietly into your shirt and wrapped his arms around your waist and, inevitably, ended up on his knees, his face buried between your legs as he made you cum until you forgot why you’d been mad at him in the first place. “Fine. That’s fine. Honestly, that’s great. I don’t know why I’d ever want to be with such a heartless bit—” His voice broke before he could finish. He made a half-hearted effort to wipe at his eyes, but that only drew more attention to the tears starting to roll down his flushed cheeks, only made you more tempted to pull him into a kiss and act like this had never happened. “Fine. If you’re really that sick of me, I’ll go.”

He pushed past you, starting towards your door. That was what you wanted. Kunikuzushi gone, your apartment empty, your life just a little less fucked than it always seemed to be when he was a part of it. You should’ve let him go. You should’ve stood there until he was gone. You should’ve let him leave.

But you heard another hitched sob, a string of muttered swearing, and something in your chest broke open. With a shallow sigh, you dropped your arms to your sides, forcing yourself to speak through clenched teeth. “…do you want a hug before you leave?”

Kunikuzushi glanced over his shoulder. “A hug? What do you think I am, a toddler?”

“It's the only thing I'm putting on the table. Do you want it or—”

You never got the chance to finish. His arms were already around you, pinning your arms to your torso as he buried his face in your shirt. You choked back your protests, forced yourself to fight the instinct to push him away, and in a few excoriating seconds, his hold on you loosened, his back straightening, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder and his lips pressing into your neck. There was a lingering8 kiss laid onto your jugular, then another to the corner of your jaw, but you didn’t bother to try and push him away. Instead, you only shifted in his arms, nudging at his chest. You’d gotten yourself into this, called him back when he was a few steps away from leaving. You only had yourself to blame. “I didn’t say you could—”

“I knew you’d change your mind.” A hand fell to the small of your back, the heel of his palm pressing into the base of your spine. “You always do. You always make the right choice, in the end.”

You opened your mouth, ready to remind him that you weren’t taking him back, but you hesitated. He was always weird, just a little too hostile, just a little too desperate to keep you close to him, but you didn’t trust the levity in his voice, the way his smile pressed into your skin despite how close he’d come to crying a few minutes ago. “I think…” You trailed off, bit down on the side of your tongue. “I haven't changed my mind. You have to—”

Something flat and stiff pressed into your back – the blunt edge of a switchblade. His switchblade, you realized, dredging up hazy memories of bandages wrapped around thighs and hollow promises that he’d be more careful, next time. You heard his nails drum against smooth metal, felt something cold and sharp cut into the skin above your shoulder blade, and you froze, your mind instantly going blank.

He laughed, the noise cracking and airy. Warm breath fanned over the crook of your neck, and he melted into you, nuzzling into the curve of your throat. “I love you.” And then, pressing the blade into your flesh. “Say you love me too.”

Automatic, robotic. The only thing you could spit out through grit teeth. “I love you.”

Another laugh – more giddy, this time, more eager. If he noticed your reluctance, it clearly didn’t bother him. The switchblade was pulled up to the nape of your neck, then drawn in a loose arch to your collarbone, the tip never leaving your skin. “I mean, yeah, obviously. That’s why we get to stay together, even when we’re at each other’s throats.”

He paused, burrowed into you. In turn, you were dragged further into his chest, but pushed away just as quickly, allowed to get just far enough to make it possible for Kunikuzushi to raise his free hand to the collar of your shirt and drag you into a clumsy, rushed kiss – too rough and too forceful for anyone but him to enjoy. His teeth scraped against your lips, his tongue dragging over yours, but he pulled away with a breathy groan, his pale cheeks flushed and his eyes still glossed over. “…you didn’t get with anyone while I was gone, right? You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”

How could you? He hadn’t given you room to breathe, let alone get past anything more than a first date with someone new. Even when you’d been together (actually together, not fighting or on a break), he’d been so suffocating, so possessive, you’d never been able to get any further than heavy petting, oral, his body on top of yours and your legs wrapped around his waist before he said something you couldn’t brush off and the night devolved into something... less romantic. It was hard to be with someone like Kunikuzushi, someone who acted like they’d rather give up the air in their lungs than a second of your time. Even after a year and a half, it was hard to let your guard down around him when he seemed so willing to give you every reason you ever could've needed to keep it up.

You guessed you should’ve expected this, looking back on it. He’d was bound to get tired of waiting for you to trust him eventually.

This was just his way of letting you know that he’d never really needed you to, in the first place.

Stiltedly, you shook your head, and he let out a relieved sigh. “Perfect. That’s why we’re supposed to be together.” He kissed the corner of your lips, then your forehead. “You’d never hurt me.”

He didn’t give you time to respond. Instead, he took you by the hand – his fingers intertwining with yours as he turned and tugged you forward, moving to lead you further into your apartment. The switchblade left your skin, falling momentarily to his side, and for a few brief seconds, you considered trying to get away, jerking yourself out of your hold and running as far away as you could get from him and his fucking issues. You made a passing effort, but Kunikuzushi’s grip turned crushing as soon as you began to shift, and you gave up before he could break something more vital than your heart. He was between you and the door, you and your phone. He had a knife, a weapon. He had you, and until he decided he was done, he wasn’t going to let you go without a fight.

With little ceremony, you were drawn out of your living room and into your cramped bedroom. Kunikuzushi let go of your hand, but you didn’t have time to run before you were being pushed onto your unmade bed, before he was straddling your waist and pinning you to the center of the mattress. The knife was brought back to your neck, but quickly plunged lower, slid beneath your uppermost button and used to separate thread from fabric. Somehow, annoyance managed to overshadow your panic, if only for as long as it took for one rational thought to be followed by another. This was your nicest shirt, one of a handful you’d splurged on for your internship, but it wasn’t like Kunikuzushi would ever understand anything like that. It wasn’t like he’d ever tried to, before.

The tip caught on the slight dip below your diaphragm and you winced, a few dots of red immediately seeping into white fabric. You winced, beginning to protest on reflex. “Kuni’, that—”

“I’ll take care of it.” Absentminded, only half conscious that he was speaking at all. He reached the hem, pulling his switchblade free and letting your dress shirt fall away from your chest and over your shoulders, as useless as it was embarrassing. “I’ll take care of everything when we’re done. Just sit pretty and keep your mouth shut for a while.”

Really, you could only wonder why you hadn’t dumped him sooner.

Your pants were next, slits carved into the material over your hips and ruined fabric torn away. He moved to cut off your boxers, too, but seemed to hesitate, to linger, to find the strength to pause just long enough to drag two fingers over your clothed slit and press the pad of his thumb into your clit. You hissed at the friction, but Kunikuzushi only smiled, dipping his head low enough for his lips to ghost over your collarbone, then the midline of your chest, then the tender spot just below your navel. The last was accompanied by a slight groan, throaty and deep. You did what you could to block it out. This would be better if you didn’t think about it, if you just imagined he was trying to win you back after a fight, that there was a wilting rose in his other hand and not a knife already stained with your blood.

It was almost a mercy when his hands finally slipped under the hem of your boxers, doing away with your last layer of protection with only a slight laugh and a lilting smile. You did what you could to relax, to lean back and close your eyes, but Kunikuzushi’s weight was an ever-present anchor to reality, only made worse as he shifted lower, as he pulled your legs apart and threw them over his shoulders. He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses into the inside of your thighs, his teeth ghosting over tender flesh as he sucked harsh bruises into whatever he could reach. This was his favorite part, by far. He’d always been clingy – possessive to the point of total, nail-biting, jaw-locking paranoia. At first, you’d been able to write it off as a sort of overeager enthusiasm that came with a new relationship, but he’d never stopped. He was always ready, always desperate to dig his teeth into your skin and leave as many marks as you’d let him – or rather, as many as he possibly could before you were able to pry him away. Even then, you’d tried to think of it as cute, just one of the quirks of your immature-but-loving boyfriend. Now, all you could do was hope it’d be over soon.

It took him full minutes to actually reach your cunt, for his tongue to lave over your slit. Instantly, you stiffened, clenching your eyes shut and attempting to ignore the heady sounds of his whimpering moans, the feeling of his tongue tracing patterns in your entrance. It was sloppy, messy, all drool and teeth and clutching hands, but warmth flooded into your core as the bridge of his nose ground into your clit, as his hands wrapped around your hips and dragged you that much closer to his mouth. Everything he did was dirty, but he knew you, knew your body, knew that you’d have to spread your legs as soon as his tongue thrust into you.

You arched your back as two fingers slid into your entrance alongside his tongue, scissoring you open while his attention shifted to your clit – his lips sealing around the sensitive bundle of nerves while he sucked gently. If he hadn’t been so vocal, it might’ve been more bearable, but no, he couldn’t seem to stop whining into your cunt, to stop sending waves of those awful reverberations from your clit to your core every time he whimpered or grunted or moaned. Before you could stop yourself, your hips were rolling weakly against his mouth as he nursed you through your sudden climax. When you fell limp, his mouth fell away, but his hand still cupped your pussy, his fingers still curling and thrusting inside of you.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t let up, not until you were crying out and clenching around him, not until you could feel the slick running down your thighs, soaking into your sheets. He didn’t stop until you were babbling – spitting out incoherent pleas for him to slow down before the overstimulation turned from overwhelming to agonizing. You were forced to endure another kiss to the inside of your thigh, the wet sound of his tongue running over his fingers, but he pulled away in a few seconds, finally letting you have just enough space to breathe. Even that was temporary, cut short by his lips crashing into yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, as little as you wanted to. You could feel him panting against your lips, and it was all you could do not to scream.

He pulled away abruptly, grinning. “You’re a virgin.”

It wasn’t a question, but you found yourself shaking your head, denying it on instinct. “I never—"

“You didn’t have to.” There was a peck to the corner of your lips, another to your cheek. “I know everything about you. Your parents were too strict to let you date in high school, and none one’s ever lasted more than a couple of weeks with you before me. Since you wouldn’t so much as take off your shirt around me before our three-month anniversary, I’m going to assume you weren’t a total slut before we met.”

You narrowed your eyes, shoving gently at his chest. You just needed space. You just needed him to get away from you. “So?”

“So,” he leaned in, his smiling growing that much wider. “I’m going to ruin you.”

It was something about his tone, the dark glint in his eyes as he leered over you. Your heart dropped in your chest, and very distinctly, something very large and very sharp began to crawl up your throat.

You started to shake your head, but he was already edging jeans downward, already freeing his cock – the flushed tip leaking precum in fat, white pearls. His weight was enough to keep you pinned down as he aligned himself with your entrance, as he traced the head over the length of your slit, and his eyes never left your face, your expression painted with heavy strokes of horror and disbelief. He never wavered, never blinked, even as he thrust inside of you, bottoming out in a single uninterrupted motion. Even as you cried out, the sound more pained than anything else. Even as you felt a single, warm teardrop fall off of his cheek and onto yours. You hadn’t realized you’d shut your eyes, not until you forced yourself to open them, not until you found him cloudy-eyed and grinning above you.

He was crying, again.

Huh.

You thought he would’ve given up on that, by now.

He wasn’t gentle. He’d never been delicate with you, but right now, it felt like he was trying to be rough, to pin your legs against your chest and split you open every time he moved his hips, every time he found a way to hit something deeper and more sensitive inside of you. You tried to scream, but your voice caught in your throat, strangling itself into something more akin to a cracked whine and a few broken whimpers. The stretch, the pressure was more than you could take. You couldn’t stop yourself – going rigid underneath him, your eyes rolling back as your mouth fell open in a silent, agonized cry. Your reactions, however involuntary, only seemed to spur Kunikuzushi on, his pace growing more erratic and his breath now coming in quick, shallow pants. No matter what you did, it just made him worse.

You could hear him talking, distantly – little mumbled tangents forming between thrusts. “You’re just so—” He cut himself off with a long, wordless moan. “We’ll do this every day, until— until you know you don’t need anyone but me. Then, you’ll love me, and you’ll never have to—” He thrust deeper into you, letting out a fracturing laugh. “And then, I’ll rip out your tongue and cut off your legs if you try to leave. We’ll always be together. No one will ever, ever take you away from me again.”

You weren’t with him. You didn’t want to be with him. If it wasn’t for his immaturity, his manipulativeness, his fucking knife, this wouldn’t be—

His knife.

Both of his hands were on your thighs, his nails digging into your flesh, keeping your knees pressed into your chest. He wasn’t holding it. He couldn’t be.

Without daring to look away from him, you groped around the mattress blindly, your fingertips eventually brushing against something cold and metallic – his switchblade lying abandoned on the edge of the bed. You took it up before you could hesitate, gripping the handle tightly enough for the sharp corners to bite into your palm, for your hand to cramp and go numb by the time you found the strength to actually lift it up. You didn’t aim. You didn’t have time to, not unless you wanted to think about what you were doing, not unless you wanted to let Kunikuzushi win. Not unless you could—

The curved tip just barely made contact with the skin above his collarbone before you faltered, before he had time to catch your wrist in an iron-clad hold. You tried to let go of the switchblade reflexively, but his hand shifted to wrap around yours, to keep the blade pressed into his chest – applying just enough pressure to break the skin. “Do it.” Soft, drawn out, too eager to mean anything good. “I’d let you carve your name into me, if you wanted to. All you'd have to do is ask.”

You didn’t ask. You didn’t want to. You didn't want any of this, but Kunikuzushi pressed the blade in his skin regardless, letting out muttered confessions of love and loyalty as a thin red line formed in his flesh, as blood dripped down his chest and disappeared behind the loose collar of his shirt, blotting against the dark fabric. He guided your blade to his lips, next, making a small nick in the corner of his mouth before taking the switchblade out of your hand and tossing it onto the floor, out of your reach. It would’ve hurt less if he’d tried to hurt you, too, taken the blade to your skin after his own. If would've hurt less if he’d acknowledged that you’d tried to do anything at all.

You didn’t have much time to linger on that thought, though. He was already moving again, already making up for time lost by fucking into you like a man crazed. With no preparation, no warning, he jerked forward, his chest pressing into yours as he kissed you, as he forced his tongue past your teeth and smeared his blood over your lips. It felt like you were drowning in nickel, being slowly suffocated by some nameless, slick, oppressive force. It felt like you were choking, despite being able to breathe, to think as clearly as you’d ever been able to around him. It felt like you were going to die.

But, you weren’t. He’d never be so kind, he’d never let you have that kind of comfort, not when he was still grinding into you, not when his cock was twitching against the walls of cunt and he was groaning into your mouth without reservation. You could feel your poor overstimulated pussy clenching around him, your vision burning white around the edges as, for lack of anything more stable to hold onto, you wrapped your arms around his neck and raked your nails over his back, clawing into whatever you could reach. If he noticed, if he cared, it only worked to drag him that much closer, to leave him as deep as he could possibly be when he finally finished, when you felt something warm and vile flood into you.

He stayed like that for a long moment, silent and unmoving, his chest pressed into yours and his lips trailing from your mouth to your throat, settling just above your jugular. It was a small mercy when he finally pulled away and straightened his back, easing himself out of you and wiping the blood off of his face, his neck. You watched from a distance as he fixed his clothes, before pushing himself to his feet, never sparing you so much as a second glance. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Pack your stuff, and make sure you’ve gotten your shit together by then. I’m not letting a mess like you into my apartment.” He paused, lingered long enough to smile. With no sense of visible urgency, he walked to the side of your bed, retrieving his switchblade and kissing your forehead softly, gingerly, with a kind of tenderness you could only wish he’d found a few hours earlier. “I love you, babe. Even when you act like a fucking idiot.”

His grin pressed into flesh, cutting and cruel.

“And I’m so, so glad you’ve realized that you love me too.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere commission #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #yandere genshin imagines #scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #wanderer x reader #yandere wanderer #yanderecore #yancore

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worth-the-chaos · 9 months

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Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 11

Chapter Summary: Steve and you are finally officially dating, the kids are finally in high school and no longer need any sort of official babysitting, and life is overall pretty damn good. You try to push aside the unease settling in your chest, but how long can you ignore it before it manifests into something much worse than you could possibly imagine.

Content Warning: swearing, bullying, trauma responses, intimacy

Word Count: 6.7k

Author’s Note: Sorry this took me longer to get out than some of the previous chapters. Life has been a bit hectic to say the very least (my brother low key got robbed and I was helping him sort some of it out), but I’m glad I was finally able to get this done! I’m looking forward to writing more of season 4!

Message me to be added to the taglist! Also, please send me asks! I love talking to you guys, so even if you want to tell me about something as mundane as what you had for breakfast, I’m happy to hear it :)

Series Masterlist | Part 10 | Next Part

***

Spring break started soon, and despite having graduated and gotten out of the shit hole that is Hawkins High, Steve still drove you and Robin to school. You hadn’t stayed the night last night at Steve’s so you slid into the backseat behind him as you got in the car. Even though you were halfway through second semester, you still weren’t used to Steve not being there to walk you to your first period every morning like he had the year before.

Of course, you stepped right into the middle of an argument between your boyfriend and your best friend. At least they aren’t shoving each other like toddlers this time, you thought as you rolled your eyes and buckled your seatbelt.

“Cut me some slack, please! It is 7:00 in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!” Robin shouted, pushing the skin on her face around as she looked in the visor mirror.

“Oh, you’re worried about a basketball pep rally? You expect me to believe that?” Steve shot back.

“Yeah? So?” Robin’s voice got small as she anticipated the trajectory of this conversation.

“So, we both know what this is about, okay? I’m not buying that bullshit, this is about Vickie!”

“Absolutely not!” Robin defended herself. You scoffed from the back seat, not believing a word of her lie as Steve spoke up again.

“It is, and you know what else?”

“Uh, I really don’t care,” Robin rolled her eyes while she continued to put on her lip balm.

“You gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta—you just gotta be yourself,” Steve tried to give her a pep talk and you gaped from the backseat before chiming in.

“You do realize you are literally quoting her to her, right?”

“Hey, you stay out of this, and besides, maybe she needs to listen to herself,” Steve glared at you in the rearview mirror before turning back towards Robin, “ever think about that, smartypants? I listened to you and now look at me. Boom. Back in business.” He gestured back towards you as he said it and you rolled your eyes. You were, however, grateful that Robin had gotten involved because you didn’t know how much longer you could take Steve not making a move last summer.

“It’s not the same thing, okay. You ask out a girl like y/n and she says no, big deal. Nothing happens—”

Steve cut her off immediately, “what do you mean ‘nothing happens’? In that hypothetical I lose the love of my life, so yeah that’s a pretty big mother fucking deal!”

“For the sake of the hypothetical—“ Robin began again, “—maybe your ego’s a little bit bruised…but I ask out the wrong girl, and bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“Yeah, I’d buy that, except Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl,” you spoke up, leaning forward to feel more included in the conversation.

“We just don’t know that, do we?”

“She returned Fast Times paused at 53 minutes, 5 seconds,” Steve spoke up and you rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where his mind was going. “Do you know who pauses Fast Times at 53 minutes, 5 seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!”

“Ew!” You and Robin exclaimed in unison.

“Gross, don’t say boobies!” She scolded, causing the boy to just repeat himself like the immature idiot that he was.

“Boobies. Not a big deal, okay? I like boobies. You like boobies. Y/n has boobies—Vickie likes boobies! Definitely!”

“Hey, how about you not bring my tits into this?” You asked Steve, smacking his shoulder. “But I mean, I can’t disagree with him…Vickie definitely likes tits, I mean we have all the evidence,” you added as you turned toward Robin. She rolled her eyes and turned up the radio, deciding she was done with the conversation the three of you were having.

Steve pulled up to Hawkins High, parking briefly to let the two of you out. Before walking to the building you stopped at his door and he rolled the window down.

“Don’t go getting fired while I’m in class, okay?” You warned, smoothing out his vest that was wrinkled because often he couldn’t be bothered to iron it.

“I just wish you could be there, you know? The day just drags on and on and on when I’m working by myself, let alone when I have to work with Keith,” Steve responded, rolling his eyes. Since he had treated Jonathan so shitty when him and Nancy were together, Steve tried to move past the jealous side of himself, but now that he wasn’t even in school with you to see which assholes were hitting on you, it made turning over a new leaf all the more difficult.

“I know, but you are a grown ass adult and you can handle it. Besides, Robin and I will be there after school lets out, so you don’t have to miss me for too terribly long,” you reminded him, leaning into the car to place a gentle kiss on his lips. He smiled into it and you debated just getting back into his car so that you could make out in the break room at Family Video, but Robin’s voice rang out, causing you to jump and hit your head on the roof of the car.

“Hey shit birds, cool it with the PDA, we’re gonna be late,” Robin yelled out, and you grumbled, rubbing the back of your head as you moved away from Steve’s car to join her. You waved a goodbye to Steve as you bit back a smile before you turned and picked up the pace to join your friend.

You really hated pep rallies with the entirety of your being…and you knew that Robin would too if it weren’t for being in the band and getting to stand the whole time next to Vickie. You usually tried to stand next to the band so that you could at least talk to her, but your talk with Steve had slowed you down and the bleachers had filled up.

“Sorry! I can get Davis to try and get someone to move if you want me to. People usually listen to him because he’s borderline terrifying,” Robin apologized, gesturing behind her to the sousaphone player who was built like a tank. Hawkins High didn’t have football, otherwise you were nearly 1000% confident that he would’ve been goaded into joining the team.

“No, really it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” you smiled at her and waved her on to go join Vickie in the stands. You started ascending the bleachers, trying to make your way to the back corner as you weaved through people who were cheering on the cheerleading squad (a bit redundant, you felt). Ever since you started dating Steve, you somehow became even less popular at school, which was a hard feat to accomplish. A lot of girls in your grade were still quite enamored with the boy and understandably disappointed that he was no longer available. As such, they quite deliberately chose to take it out on you.

Normally it didn’t really get to you, but recently it had been bothering you more. You had been used to it last year when you watched girls in the hall cast judgmental looks at you as Steve walked you to class…and that was before you were even officially an item. Now, without having Steve to be there to quell your nerves, you just felt lonely whenever Robin wasn’t around either to distract you from immature high school bullies.

You finally made it to the back corner of the bleachers, not without hearing some nasty comments directed at you. You sighed, crossing your arms and closing your eyes as you leaned against the wall.

“I take it you hate these things too?” A voice spoke up to ask you. You turned to see the familiar mop of long brown hair as you realized the voice belonged to Eddie Munson. You had never been in a class with him before this semester but you had become increasingly familiar with him due to the fact that Ms. O’Donell, your physics teacher, had desperately pleaded with you to tutor him so that he could graduate this year.

You had reluctantly agreed, mostly because you didn’t want to disappoint the poor woman, but it had been an exercise in frustration.

“Well, yeah, they aren’t my favorite. Especially since they’re typically full of people who somehow have a shit ton of school spirit but not even a modicum of decency and respect for me, so that is just…totally epic,” you rolled your eyes, frustrated with one classmate in particular, Claire, who had just tried to trip you on your way up the stairs.

“I studied by the way,” Eddie spoke up, when you looked at him with confusion, he continued, “for the physics quiz today? I studied for it.”

Suddenly, your face twisted in panic as you realized that you hadn’t. You’d been so busy with work and Steve and just trying to hold everything together that you had forgotten about the last assessment you had before going on spring break. “Fuck! I forgot about it.”

“Eh, you’ll do fine anyway,” Eddie replied nonchalantly. You were glad someone at least believed in you.

“Dustin’s still doing alright?” You asked the long haired boy beside you. Since Dustin was in high school now, he no longer needed a babysitter, and thus your career, in an official sense at least, had come to an end. You still saw him extremely regularly because Steve and him were still good friends, but you still worried about him. You knew he was a misfit, and being a misfit yourself it made you nervous that he had found himself in a crowd of…well, misfits. You didn’t want him to go through the same shit that you went through. You didn’t want him to be invisible like you.

“Henderson? He’s fucking awesome! Yeah, of course he’s fine,” Eddie replied, laughing as he shoved you in the shoulder. Even though everyone liked to talk about how much of a mess Eddie Munson was, you were glad that Ms. O’Donell’s arrangement had at least shown you that he wasn’t a bad guy. It was nice to have another friend at Hawkins High. “How’s Steve doing?” Eddie asked, not doing at great job at hiding his distaste for the graduate with the perfect hair.

You rolled your eyes at his tone before answering. “He’s great…I just thought dating the son of a bitch would mean that I’d get at least enough status here for people to not treat me like shit,” you chuckled.

Your conversation with Eddie fizzled out as the basketball team entered the gym. You couldn’t help but smile seeing Lucas on the court. He looked happy, so even though he was surrounded by meathead athletes, you couldn’t really be mad. You knew he was smart enough to make good decisions and he still had you all as a support group, so you tried to shove the worry down in your chest.

Jason Carver took the mic and began going on and on as he spoke. Though you really, really didn’t like the kid, you had to give him credit. He sure did know how to give a speech.

“…you know, I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins. So much loss. And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take? In dark days like this, we need something to believe in. So last night, when we were down by ten points at half to Christian Academy, I looked at my team and I said think of Melissa. Think of Heather. Think of Billy. Think of our heroic police chief Jim Hopper. Think of each and every one of our friends who perished in that fire…”

That was when you stopped listening. Not a day went by that you didn’t think of the loss that you had faced. You didn’t need someone like Jason who didn’t know jack shit about loss to explain it to you. “I have to go,” you whispered to Eddie, and before he could respond, you slipped out of the bleachers, telling a teacher that you needed to use the restroom, and darting out the gym doors.

Robin noticed you leaving and quickly set her trumpet down, taking off her shako, which Vickie graciously took before darting down the hall after you.

“Y/n,” she yelled after you trying to catch up but you didn’t slow down, quickly evading her and turning a corner as you wiped tears from your eyes. “Y/n!”

She finally caught up to you, grabbing your wrist to stop you from running away from her. “What’s wrong?” She asked, eyes searching yours in an attempt to make sure you were okay.

“I don’t even know how to explain it,” you choked out, unable to keep your emotions at bay.

“Could you at least try?” Robin asked softly, running a hand up and down your arm to soothe the strong emotions you were feeling.

“I…I’m-I’m just tired of-of people like Jason trying to explain the loss to me. I get it! I know what it was like; I was there!” You stammered. Robin nodded, and you knew she understood what you were going through. You were eternally grateful that you had the support system that you had; you were never alone in your struggle which was both a blessing and a curse. You wouldn’t wish your experience with the supernatural on your worst enemy, so sometimes it was difficult to stomach the fact that your closest friends had experienced it alongside you.

“What can I do?” Robin asked, wanting nothing more than to make it better.

“I just…I think I need to leave,” you cried, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. Robin nodded, leading you out the doors of school to the pay phone right outside. Fortunately, with everyone tied up at the pep rally, there wasn’t anyone to stop the two of you as you put some coins in the telephone. Your fingers hesitated as you thought about who to call, finally settling before dialing the number.

After a couple rings, a familiar voice picked up. “Hello, this is Steve from Family Video, how can I help you today?”

“Steve,” you cried out and immediately he was on high alert.

“Y/n?! What’s wrong?! Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I-I’m at school, but-but I’m just…having one of those days you know?” Steve had been your rock through processing the trauma that your experiences with the Upside Down had brought you, so he very much understood that somedays were just too much for you.

“I need to talk to Keith really quickly, but then I’m going to come and pick you up, okay? You’re not by yourself, are you?” Steve asked, concern lacing his tone.

“No, Robin’s with me.”

“Good, good, good. Can you put her on the phone, baby?” Steve sounded frantic, and if you could have seen him, his anxious behaviors would have confirmed it. There he was, standing at the counter of Family Video, not even an hour into his shift when shit had to hit the fan. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself down, but knowing that you were upset was enough to keep him from being calm. There was a silence, before Robin’s voice rang out through the receiver.

“Hey.”

“How bad is she?” He cut to the chase.

“Um, I mean…you heard her,” Robin replied, speaking in vague terms so that you wouldn’t be offended by their conversation.

Steve sighed, jotting down a note on a piece of scratch paper, his version of “talking to Keith.” After he scribbled down the words, he refocused on the phone call. “Okay, Robin, here’s what you need to do. Take her to the nurse or something and find some way to get them to send her home. I don’t need her stressing about missing class unexcused, alright? You know how she is about that sort of stuff.”

“Got it. Just head out now, I should be able to get this sorted pretty quickly,” Robin confirmed, hanging up the phone and turning back to you. “Alright dingus number two, let’s get this all figured out.”

***

When Steve’s car pulled up, you felt relief flood your entire body. You wished that discussions of what happened last summer didn’t affect you as much as they did, but sometimes it all still caught you off guard.

The car halted to a stop as Steve quickly got out rushing over to you and scooping you into a tight hug. “Baby,” he whispered into your ear as you melted against him, tears soaking into his shirt.

“I’m sorry, Steve…I-I’m trying so hard, but then-then Jason started giving one of his dumbass speeches and I just lost it.”

“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay; you’re okay, I’m here now, alright?” Steve pulled away and put his hands on either side of your face to get you to look at him. There was so much sincerity in his eyes that it almost made you break all over again as you thought about how lucky you were to have him. “I’m gonna take you home, alright?”

You knew he was talking about his house, so you nodded. You thanked Robin and she gave you a weak smile before waving and walking back inside. You were grateful that she had stayed with you, but you felt bad that you had prevented her from spending time with Vickie. Steve opened the passenger door for you and once he was back in his seat, he started driving away from the hell hole that was Hawkins High.

“Steve, I really don’t want you to miss your shift,” you spoke up, looking at him innocently. He could just melt right there with the way that you looked at him.

“Y/n, don’t even worry about it, seriously. I’d much rather take care of you and make sure that you’re okay than be at that stupid job.”

“But Keith already kind of hates you…like a lot. I’ve got my uniform vest in my bag, let me just pick up a shift and I’ll work with you,” you offered. Steve looked at you hesitantly, but upon noticing the way that you had calmed down in his presence, he relented.

“Fine, but you’re not going to lift a finger while we’re working, okay? You’re just gonna sit there and look pretty and I’ll take care of everything,” he replied. He desperately wished he could lean over and kiss you right now but the last time he had tried to do that while driving, you’d scolded him and he almost crashed his BMW, so he decided that it wasn’t worth the risk…he had precious cargo.

You rolled your eyes and turned up the radio, biting back a smile. When you got to Family Video, you threw on your vest quickly, before you both entered the store. Keith stood scowling at the counter, holding up Steve’s sloppily handwritten note as if it was evidence in a crime, though to him it probably was.

“Dude, not cool.”

“Keith, did you even read the fucking note? Clearly it was an emergency,” Steve spat, as he gestured to you. He was tired of Keith being a complete ass all of the time.

“Y/n? Aren’t you supposed to be at school?” Keith asked, his demeanor suddenly drastically changing. Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed, knowing damn well that this dumbass had a fat crush on you.

“It’s a long story,” you sighed, “but I’m here and I’m willing to pick up an extra shift, so you can leave if you’d like.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Keith spoke up, “but you better keep—“

“Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t fuck up. Yeah, yeah, I know,” you sighed and Steve threw his hands up in exasperation. What the hell did I ever do to deserve this shit?

Keith exited the store, so now it was just you and Steve. Friday mornings at Family Video were usually pretty slow given the fact that most people were at work or school, so there really wasn’t much work to do.

“So, have you gotten any more acceptance letters?” Steve spoke up and asked as he began reorganizing one of the shelves. He held his breath as he waited for your answer. Though he wanted nothing more than for you to be able to attend the school of your dreams, he was afraid of what that meant for the two of you and your relationship.

“Yeah, a couple more actually,” you smiled up at Steve. You had a lot of the same fears that he did about the potential of moving away. It was scary to think about trying to stay together through that huge of a life change. And you knew that you would miss him like crazy. But Nancy and Jonathan are making it work, so of course you guys would be able to…right?

“Have you made any decisions yet?”

“Uh, no, not yet. I’m still waiting to get a few decisions back before I make one of my own,” you spoke up, your voice a little small. You weren’t going to tell Steve, but what you were really waiting on was your decision from Purdue. It was close enough that nothing would have to change. You could still see Steve whenever you wanted. You were neglecting to mention this to him, however, because you knew he constantly felt like he was holding you back. He didn’t want you to make your decision based on him, but you couldn’t help but take that into account.

These were the most stilted and awkward conversations the two of you had. You and Steve could talk for hours about really pretty much everything, but as soon as college came up, it was like your ability to effectively communicate went out the window.

It wasn’t long before the phone rang again, and you picked it up. “Hello, thank you for calling Family Video. I’m y/n, how can I help you?” Your retail voice spilled from your lips sweetly.

“Y/n, this is Dustin…Listen, Lucas has to play in the championship game tonight and we need another player for Hellfire tonight, so could you please, please, fill in for him? Just this once?” The boy begged.

“Um, absolutely not,” your customer service voice disappeared as soon as you knew who was on the other line. Dustin had roped you into playing D&D once before, feeling bad for the kids after Mike had come down with a bad cold and couldn’t play. First of all, Dustin had said it wouldn’t take long. Secondly, it had been the most miserable fourteen hours of your life, so there was no way in hell you were about to do it again.

Dustin started complaining over the phone, continuing to beg you to join, before you decided that you didn’t get paid enough for this shit, handing the phone off to Steve, saying “it’s for you.”

“Woah, woah, woah, cool off pipsqueak,” Steve sighed into the phone.

“Steve! Sweet, okay. Dude, I am about to offer you the most kick-ass opportunity that will ever get extended your direction. I mean, I’m talking immaculate storytelling, a badass group of people, more fun than you will ever have in your life. I’m talking—“

“Cut to the chase,” Steve cut the boy off and rolled his eyes.

“Right, yeah, okay. Lucas has to play basketball and we need an extra person for D&D tonight,” Dustin sighed, sounding a bit defeated, no longer attempting to put on the persuasive charm that he had started with.

“No. Can’t. Sorry. I have a date tonight.”

“Just move your date this one time, come on!” Dustin begged. Why did the two cool older kids in his life have to be dating each other? In Dustin’s opinion it made both of you significantly less cool.

“What, to hang out with you and Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson? Uh, yeah, I’ll pass,” Steve responded. You rolled your eyes at the nickname for the poor boy in your class. He really wasn’t that bad, but you weren’t about to lecture Steve about it.

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I have another older male friend,” Dustin retorted, attempting to get under Steve’s skin.

“Ew. Ugh, whatever. Besides, you know, I really dig this girl...who knows, maybe she could be the one,” he added, smiling at you as you beamed right back at him from your perch on the countertop.

“You two are fucking disgusting,” Dustin replied, scoffing.

“No, we’re cool as fuck, dipshit,” Steve shot back. The door suddenly swung open, as a group of three girls entered the store, the bell above the door chiming to its familiar tune. “Oh, I got some customers. Call you back, bye.” Steve hung up the phone, ignoring Henderson’s protests.

“Welcome to Family Video, how can I help you today?” You smiled at the group of girls. They were definitely from Steve’s graduating class, home on spring break already. They cast you a judgmental look before turning to Steve.

“Steve! Oh my goodness! It’s been so long since I saw you last,” one of the girls spoke up. When Steve stood staring, unsure of how to respond, her face fell a bit as she added, “it’s me…Alice.”

“Oh, right…how are…things?”

“Oh, life’s been just so peachy! It’s just, us gals need to have a little fun this spring break…you know how it is,” she laughed flirtatiously. “We were just hoping that you had a good movie recommendation for us.”

Steve looked at you and could tell that you weren’t happy with the way these girls were talking to him as if you weren’t even there, so he spoke up, wrapping an arm around you and hugging you close to him. “Yeah, actually. My girlfriend, y/n, and I went and saw Back to the Future together on our first date, and I would really recommend it. I can already tell it’s gonna be a classic, you know?”

At this, Alice frowned, glaring at you before plastering on a fake ass smile. “Aww, that’s so cute that you two are dating! It’s just so surprising, I never would have put you two together. You always seemed like you’d want to go for the more mature girls…the ones with more experience, you know? But I’m just so so happy for the two of you.”

“Yeah, we are really, really happy. Honestly haven’t met a better person than her. But thank you so much for the well wishes, Alex,” Steve responded with a smirk as he grabbed a copy of the movie from the counter. He knew exactly what he was doing, and didn’t feel a bit bad about the way the girl’s face fell as she looked between her two friends. “So, are you ready to check out your movie or what?”

“Actually, I think we’re going to make other plans for this evening,” she spat, “and it’s Alice.”

“Well, I’m sorry we couldn’t be of service to you today,” Steve narrowed his eyes as she turned around, sauntering out of the store with her two friends following closely behind. You rolled your eyes, but you were grateful that Steve at least recognized that the girls had ulterior motives.

“Thank you for that,” you chuckled awkwardly, putting the copy of the movie back on the shelf. You wished you could tell him that the girl’s words hadn’t gotten under your skin, but that would be a lie.

“She was a bitch in high school anyway. Hasn’t changed a bit…mature, my ass,” Steve grumbled, glaring at her car as they pulled away.

“So, we have a date tonight?” You spoke up, reminding Steve of what he had told Dustin. His words had been a surprise to you.

“Yeah, actually!” Steve beamed, “I was thinking we could go to the championship game for basketball tonight. You know, I just miss some of that stuff about high school sometimes, and I know that you miss seeing the kids as often, so I thought that it might be nice to see Lucas play…even if he is a bench warmer…And we’d get to see Robin! And maybe we could even help her with talking to Vickie and—“

“Steve,” you chuckled, “of course I want to go with you, so you can stop trying to sell me on it. That was very thoughtful of you.”

He moved towards you, grabbing you around the hips and pulling you into him until your hips were flush against his, “besides, I was thinking that afterwards, you could spend the night at mine, and we could…hang out some more.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had been officially dating Steve for eight months and he still was able to make you weak at the knees with only a few words. Your mind flashed back to what Alice had said, about how you were inexperienced, and you thought about the fact that you and Steve hadn’t…gone all the way. You knew that he wanted to, and at first you were holding off because, even though you knew he changed, you still sometimes worried about his history of being a player. However, now that it had been eight months and you two still hadn’t had sex, you were pretty confident he was going to stick with you. Now your insecurities centered more around the fact that you hadn’t been intimate in that way with anyone before. What if he realized that you weren’t good enough and the spark disappeared? What if he didn’t want you anymore?

“Hey, is anyone in there? Earth to y/n, what’s going on?” Steve joke as he knocked his fingers gently against the side of your head. You giggled and leaned against his chest.

“Yeah, that sounds good to me,” you closed your eyes. He was just so perfect and you always felt like you were seconds away from losing him. He made you feel so comfortable, which sometimes paradoxically put you on edge. You pulled away, running your fingers through his perfect head of hair as you smiled up at him.

“I love you, y/n. I really, really do,” he looked down at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes.

“I love you too, Steve.”

***

Steve placed a gentle hand to your back as he guided you up the bleachers, making sure that you found a spot close to the band so that you could chat with Robin. You had barely gotten to your spots when the principal took the mic, his words ringing out through the gymnasium.

“Everyone now please rise for our national anthem. Singing for us tonight, we have a very special guest. All the way from Nashville, our very own Tammy Thompson!” The audience cheered as she walked into the gym, waving as if she was some sort of celebrity. You gaped as you and Steve looked over at Robin.

She began singing extremely off key, feedback from the microphone resonating through the gym. Steve leaned towards Robin, whispering, “told you…muppet!” You smacked him in the chest, and he looked at you in disbelief as you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet,” Robin whispered back. Vickie laughed beside her and you smiled as she replied, kickstarting a small conversation between the two of them.

Tammy finally finished her screechy, godawful rendition of the national anthem and the game started. It was a nail biter, but you weren’t on edge until a player on your team got injured and suddenly Lucas Sinclair, season long bench warmer, was on the court.

“Oh my god, Steve,” you said, staring wide eyed at the court as you lazily slapped him in the chest to get his attention. He looked at you incredulously, given the fact that he had been paying much closer attention the whole time than you were.

“Let’s go Lucas! You’ve got this buddy!” Steve yelled out. Sure, he acted like the kids were just a massive pain in his ass, which they were most of the time, but he loved them more than life itself. Watching Lucas play, Steve couldn’t really believe the coach hadn’t put him in all season.

There were three seconds left in the game, and suddenly Lucas had the ball. Hawkins was down by one point, and Lucas shot the ball. You watched with bated breath as the basketball bounced around the rim. You grabbed Steve’s wrist, as you watched with a furrowed brow. Is this what it’s like to be a sport parent?

The ball finally sank into the hoop, and you began jumping up and down as the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. You turned and hugged Steve around his neck, needing somewhere to place all your anxiety-turned-adrenaline, now that the game was finally over. Even though Steve was a bit bummed that he hadn’t won a championship of his own, he was damn proud that Lucas had.

The whole basketball team surrounded Lucas, and you quickly made your way down the bleachers. After the team had celebrated and there was finally a break in the crowd, you approached Lucas, pulling him into a hug.

“Lucas, you were amazing! I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, y/n!” The boy beamed. He had been bummed that Dustin and Mike bailed on him, but seeing you there was an unexpected surprise, considering he knew how much you hated basketball.

“I assume the team will be celebrating?” You asked him with a knowing look. He looked at you sheepishly, which confirmed your assumption. “Look, I’m not going to tell you what to do, but please try and make good decisions. And if you need anything at all, just call Steve, okay? He can pick you up, it down’t matter what time it is, you just call, alright?”

Lucas rolled his eyes, somewhat annoyed at your maternal tendencies, but the way you cared about him still made him feel good, so he decided he’d forgive it. “Yeah, okay, I got it. Thanks again for coming guys,” he added, shaking Steve’s hand as Steve patted him on the back to congratulate him. Lucas jogged off with the rest of the team, leaving you and Steve to head out of the gym together.

Once you got to the parking lot, you saw the Hellfire boys exit another wing of the school and you marched off towards them, ignoring Steve’s protests.

“Hey, guys…how was the campaign? I see you found someone to fill in,” you chuckled as Erica gave you a hug. Despite her sassy attitude about 80% of the time, she could be really sweet on the rare occasion.

“It was awesome, y/n!” Erica beamed as she told you.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” you smiled down at her.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the miraculous Ms. Y/n…you missed O’Donell’s quiz,” Eddie spoke up, looking at you with crossed arms.

“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling too well earlier, so I had to leave early,” you didn’t elaborate, “how’d it end up going?”

“It was pretty good. I actually don’t think I failed it this time, so thanks for the help. You know, I’m really fucking determined to graduate this go around.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m glad I could help,” you replied and Steve reached for your hand. You interlocked your fingers with his before you added, “well, we’d better get going…we have an early shift tomorrow, so I’ll see you suckers later.” You saluted with your free hand while Steve grumbled a goodbye and dragged you towards his car.

You got in the passenger seat and as he started it, you could tell he was a little frustrated. “What’s got your panties in a twist, huh?”

“It’s just, I didn’t know you were such good friends with Eddie,” Steve grumbled and you rolled your eyes, chuckling. He looked at you exasperated, in disbelief that you would laugh, but you just leaned in and caught his open mouthed expression in a kiss. He immediately softened at your touch, muttering an apology as you pulled away.

“Ms. O’Donell just asked me to help him with some of his physics shit since he’s dense as fuck. I promise you there is absolutely nothing going on between us…he’s just a friend.” Steve tried to shove his jealousy aside. He knew you wouldn’t lie to him. He just nodded as he drove off, brow still furrowed. You were getting worried that he wasn’t saying anything, but you were terrified of breaking the silence.

When you got to his house, he yanked your car door open, helping you out before grabbing your wrist and pulling you in his house and up the stairs to his bedroom. Normally he was pretty gentle with you, but this time he was a little rougher as he guided you to his bed. You sat down with a huff as he let go, looking at you with wild eyes.

“Steve, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did wrong,” you spoke up beginning to tear up at the way the night was going. His expression softened a bit in surprise, but he reset it, sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap to straddle him before placing his lips to your neck. He sucked harshly at the skin and you let out a gasp, melting at his touch.

“I’m not mad at you, baby…I could never be mad at you,” he assured you as he breathed across the expanse of your neck, sending a shiver up your spine. “I just get a little jealous sometimes is all…and I want to make it abundantly clear to everyone that you are 100% all mine,” he added as he sucked on your neck again, leaving visible marks and love bites.

You breathed out a small moan that was like music to his ears as he flipped you over so that you were lying down, continuing to kiss across your neck. He began to unbutton the first few buttons of your shirt, placing gentle kisses across your collarbones and down your chest, but your hands quickly darted up to stop him. He immediately let go, looking you in the eyes, searching for what was wrong.

“Steve, I’m sorry…I-I’m just not ready,” your voice cracked as you whispered, your eyes welling up with tears again. You hated disappointing him, and you were worried that he was going to lose interest in you.

“Y/n, please don’t cry…and don’t apologize either. I don’t want to do a damn thing until you’re ready for it, okay?” He assured you while you both sat up, looking you in the eyes with so much sincerity it made you want to cry all over again.

“It’s just….I-I keep thinking about what that girl said at work earlier…she was right you know? I am inexperienced and it’s embarrassing, and I just wish that I could be less weird about all of it and—“

Steve cut you off, “woah, woah, woah! I don’t give a fuck what that girl said. And who cares that you’re inexperienced? I swear that I don’t. Besides, it just means that when you are ready, I get to make sure I really take my time and make it real special for you, okay baby?”

You smiled up at him, leaning in to place a sweet kiss on his lips. He smiled into the kiss as it deepened, before pulling away to look at you again.

“I’m the luckiest guy on the planet, you know that?” You smiled at the praise, before he leaned in to place more kisses down your neck. Life was just so perfect.

Your heart rate quickened at the thought as your breath caught in your lungs. You knew better than to trust things to stay that way…a bad feeling settled in your chest as Steve continued to kiss and nip at your tender skin.

You pushed the thought away as you took a deep breath and allowed Steve to continue kissing you. If shit was about to hit the fan, you’d be damned if you let it cut this moment short. That was a problem for another day, you decided as you melted under Steve’s gentle touch.

***

a/n: Thank you so much for reading! If you wanted an easy way to make me smile, feel free to reblog ;)

taglist:

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#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #joe keery #netflix #friends to lovers #steve harrington friends to lovers #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction

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daisynik7 · 2 years

Text

Rush

Epilogue

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: ~9.5k

cw: mentions of explicit sex, attempted sexual violence that may be triggering (does not go far and is not committed by Eren)

Summary: New year, new beginnings, old flames.

Notes: I hope you enjoy this Epilogue, it’s a long one! I included a word count this time, for your reference. Please read the End Notes at the bottom of the chapter for my sincerest thanks.

Previous Chapter | ao3

Rush Series Masterlist

----------

After a well-deserved holiday break, you’re back at University of Paradis to start your spring semester. Along with your new and more rigorous curriculum, your obligations to your sorority escalate. No longer a pledge and a now a fully-fledged sister, you take a more active role in your organization by trying to recruit potential members. Spring rush begins two weeks into the new year for women and men interested in Greek life. Because of the partnership with Alpha Tau, Sigma Nu Kappa miraculously sees an increase in their numbers. By the end of the month, you welcome an exciting group of new sisters, ready to dive into the mysterious allure of sorority life.

Alpha Tau, back in its good graces, continues to excel during recruitment, despite losing a few members the previous semester. Reiner was expelled shortly after Eren. Apparently he threw a hissy fit in front of Erwin and Levi, who confronted him about his disrespectful behavior. Bertolt, being the obedient devotee he is, actually quit following his best friend’s expulsion. Rumor has it they’ve been “adopted” as unofficial brothers into another frat, the one where their friends Porco and Marcel are in.

The first few months of the new year are ordinary, for the most part. The only major difference is that Eren Jaeger has become a regular part of your daily life.

Following the end of your intimate relationship with him and his expulsion from Alpha Tau, Eren quickly got his act together. He focused on his studies more, spending hours in the library next to Armin, buried in his textbooks or typing away at a paper. You didn’t see him much during those last few weeks, only in passing, walking alongside his best friend. Cordial waves from a distance were always exchanged. Even from afar, it was difficult to ignore the twinkle in his eyes or the goofy grin whenever he saw you.

It's not until this new year that Eren makes his official return into your life.

The golden trio of Eren, Armin, and Mikasa are in tandem again, hanging out constantly as if their temporary setback never occurred. You’re included in the mix now, being Mikasa’s closest friend, roommate, and sorority sister. Jean occasionally joins if he isn’t busy with soccer team business. You and Eren acknowledge one another as acquaintances do. A smile, a wave, a glance here and there. Nothing more. Careful not to overstep any boundaries. There’s no tension between you two; rather there’s remnants of a barely lit flame still present from your previous relationship. It’s unpredictable when it will ever fizzle out.

You share meals together, surrounded by your friends, never alone. You have conversations as a group, not with each other. The most you’ll say is a hello or hi, along with a lingering look. There’s an unspoken agreement there; he won’t cross any lines until you’re ready to. At this rate, you’re taking baby steps to get to that point. You want to take your time with him.

Despite keeping your metaphorical distance, you find yourself learning more each day you spend with him. His interests, his pet peeves, his little quirks that you secretly find charming. Over dinner one night, you discover that Eren has a sweet tooth, finishing two different slices of cake in one sitting without a single crumb or smattering of frosting left on his plate. Another night, Mikasa teases him about being a mama’s boy, which he shamelessly agrees with.

“She’s the most important woman in my life,” he says proudly to Mikasa. “Besides you and – ”

He cuts himself off, not finishing his statement. For a split second, his eyes quickly dart towards you, cheeks blushed with a rosy tinge. Maybe it’s your imagination.

They reminisce about their past often, having spent their entire childhoods together. Through passing comments, you learn that Eren has always cared deeply for his friends. As a child, he was the first to throw a punch whenever Armin was harassed by the neighborhood bullies. The only kid on the block who would defend Mikasa from perverted old men eyeing her on the street. Even protecting his mom from being mugged several times on simple trips to the grocery store.

You’re beginning to see for yourself what Mikasa told you last semester. I wish you could have met him before all of this. You would see how great of a person he can be. There’s a reason his friends have stuck by him through thick and thin. They’ve put their trust and faith in him because of the lengths he’s gone for them. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to get to that point with him. A tiny part of you hopes so.

You learn that Armin and Eren share a fascination for traveling. During a study session in the library, they huddle during their breaks to read a couple different travel magazines they purchased at the café. Eren takes great care to highlight and place post-it notes on pages he finds particularly interesting. A few times, he glances over at you, catching your gaze on him. The moment dissipates as quickly as it appears, a fading ember in heavy rain. Something’s there, both of you too hesitant and shy to nurture it.

In the blink of an eye, March arrives. The flower gardens scattered throughout campus are in full bloom. Displays of different colored flora along every pathway illuminate your daily walks to class. The melancholy that winter naturally emanates has finally passed. Life is good.

It’s this month that your relationship with him changes. It’s small, but definitely noticeable.

~~~

In the middle of March, the weekend preceding midterms, the four of them gather in a study room. Mikasa and Armin review biology flashcards, she’s finishing up a permitted cheat sheet for one of her courses, and Eren focuses on writing an essay for his sociology class. After typing his last thought, he closes his laptop and leans back in his chair, sighing.

Mikasa sets down her flashcards. “Let’s take a break.” She reaches into her bag and fetches a bag of chips, setting it in the middle to share.

“Speaking of a break, what is everyone doing for spring break? It’s coming up,” Armin reminds them.

“Jean invited me to stay with his family. We might go camping,” Mikasa replies.

“That sounds fun! Grandpa will probably want to go fishing, so I’ll be doing that,” Armin says. “Eren, what do the Jaegers have planned this year?”

He grabs a handful of chips as he answers, “We’ll be at the beach house. I can’t believe Mikasa will be missing my birthday just because she has a boyfriend now,” he teases her, smirking.

She rolls her eyes. “A week away from Zeke bragging about med school and taking over your dad’s practice? Oh yeah, poor me,” she responds sarcastically, returning his playful grin.

“When is your birthday?”

He’s startled to hear her voice. To hear her direct a question at him. It’s an invitation to engage in a real conversation, which flusters and thrills him.

He faces her, hoping his cheeks aren’t flushed. “March 30th.”

“Must be nice having it during spring break. I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

He gulps loudly, excited to continue talking to her. “Yeah, it is nice. What are…what are your plans?” Mikasa and Armin stare at them as if they’re watching a slow-moving tennis match, heads turning towards whoever is speaking, holding their breaths.

She shrugs, reaching for the snacks. “Probably just stay home and do some spring cleaning. My family doesn’t really go on vacations.”

There’s a rush of ideas bombarding him, the most obvious being the temptation to invite her. It’s insane. But the thought of spending spring break together is a dream. It’s been over three months since they ended their previous relationship. Over three months of secretly pining for her, waiting for whatever chance he can get to be a little bit closer.

It’s on the tip of his tongue. What’s the worst that could happen if he let it slip? Rejection? Bruised ego? Extreme embarrassment? That’s nothing compared to heartache, and he’s already experienced that. He has nothing to lose.

Still, he has to put her first. He wouldn’t want to do or say anything to make her uncomfortable. That’s why it’s taken this long for them to have a legitimate conversation with each other, outside of their usual greetings. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to speak to him, especially after all that happened.

Mikasa intervenes. “Annie doesn’t live too far from you. I’m sure you two can see each other if you’re bored.”

“Oh yeah! She mentioned wanting to try a new restaurant near where I live, so we’ll probably do that.”

Eren comes to his senses, mentally calming himself down from his sudden excitement. He can’t invite her to the beach house with him. That’s crazy. Outrageous. Definitely a bad idea. Baby steps, he reminds himself. Baby steps. “That should be fun. I hope you have a nice break.”

“Thank you. You too.”

They gaze at each other for what seems like a full minute; in reality, it’s a few seconds. There’s electricity, even if it is a slightly dulled. It could be wishful thinking on his end, but these are the tiny interactions he’s learned to cherish these past few months. He’ll take whatever he can get; a warm glance, courteous wave, her signature bright smile that instantly lifts his mood. He won’t take any of it for granted anymore.

Armin clears his throat. “Anyways, it sounds like we’re all going to have a nice vacation.”

His friends engage her in idle chit chat about Greek life, leaving Eren alone in his thoughts. Another layer in their complicated relationship has been peeled away. There’s a long way to go, but it’s progress. It gives him hope.

He treasures these moments. This, along with the little details he’s learned about her so far. What she likes, what annoys her, those adorable habits she has. They spent so much time indulging in sex last fall that they didn’t get to know each other properly. He enjoys exploring her mind and soul just as much as her body; maybe more if that’s even possible.

Their passionate nights reappear in Eren’s head every now and again. Probably more than he’ll ever admit. Out of respect, he tries his best not to think of her in that way anymore. Though when he’s alone in the deepest confines of his psyche, he can’t help letting his hands wander, wishing more than anything it’s her in bed with him. He allows himself this occasional weakness for the sake of his sanity.

Tonight, he lets himself succumb to it, more so than ever these past three months. She actually spoke to him, and she was the one to initiate it. It’s glorious, and hours later, he’s still high from it. Why is he so desperate? As Eren slides his boxers off to stroke his hard cock, body hidden beneath the blankets in case Armin returns any minute, he ignores the guilt and lets his desires overtake him.

He fantasizes about a scenario where she does spend spring break with him and his family. They would drive to the beach house, top down in a rented convertible, wind blowing through their hair. Fingers entwined, resting on the center console, natural for two people in love.

At the beach house, Eren would make proper introductions to his parents. His mom would be ecstatic to see her son with a woman, especially one as beautiful as her. Zeke, his half-brother, would arrive later for dinner, cocky as usual during table conversation. Probably flirtatious with her, attempting to push his little brother’s buttons. This wouldn’t bother Eren, because at the end of the night, it’s him who bends her over at the edge of the bed, pleasuring her until they’re both spent. Cuddling and falling asleep in each other’s arms, in total bliss.

She’d make the best impressions on his parents, helping his mom in the kitchen, offering to help his dad fix a few loose boards on the deck. Pretending to be intrigued by Zeke’s insufferable stories of med school. They’d relax by the ocean every day, basking in the pleasant heat from the sun. At night, they’d make love, indulging in each other’s warm bodies. Her silky moans music to his ears as she wraps her legs around his waist, wanting to feel him deeper. Her moans turn into whines, indicating he’s hitting that sweet spot. He thrusts into her faster, wanting her to gush all over him, thumb brushing against her puffy clit that he licked and sucked earlier when she rode his face. She’s so close, desperate to have her precious cunt filled with his hot load…

His cock twitches in his fist, cum dribbling onto his bare abdomen. He opens his eyes and he’s in his bedroom, hidden beneath his covers. There’s a box of tissues at his bedside, conveniently. He wipes any evidence and tosses it into the trash, thankful that Armin takes unusually long showers.

After a few minutes of lying in bed, he buries his face into his pillow, groaning. He hates when that post-nut clarity hits. It brings him shame, guilty for using her as a way to get himself off. He didn’t even recall a past scenario this time; he invented a new one.

He answers the question he asked himself earlier: Why is he so desperate?

He’s in love with her. That’s why.

~~~

The rest of the semester passes without any major issues. The frequency in which you converse with Eren increases at a steady rate. He cracks jokes here and there, nothing vulgar or inappropriate. The conversations are never too deep, enough to scratch the surface and uncover a valuable cache of knowledge about each other. It’s surprisingly easy talking to him; you’re building up to being more than acquaintances with an intricate past.

With finals around the corner, you find yourself once again in a study room with Mikasa, Armin, and Eren. Mikasa and Armin group in front of a whiteboard, reviewing diagrams and terminology for their biology class. Eren is writing yet another sociology research paper. And you’re in the middle of a practice test for one of your courses.

Eren closes his laptop, raising his arms up in a stretch. “Anybody want anything from the café?”

Mikasa and Armin, too focused on their discussion, wave him off. He turns to you, offering, “Do you want anything?”

Distracted by a question that you’re desperately trying to solve, you mumble a name of a drink, your usual. A few minutes later, you come up with the solution and finally relax. It’s only now that you realize you only gave him half the details of what you wanted. Thinking it’s too late to specify any of it, you let it be, not wanting to be a bother.

When he returns, he sets his drink next to his laptop. Probably a black coffee, his typical order. He hands you yours, which seems normal.

“Thank you,” you tell him. “Let me know how much I owe you.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s on me. I hope I got your drink right.”

Certain that he didn’t, by no fault of his own, you examine the sticker on the cup listing the precise details. To your surprise, it’s perfect. From the amount of ice, type of milk, even the extra pump of the particular sweetener you like.

Impressed, you exclaim, “It’s exactly how I order it! How’d you know?”

He rubs the nape of his neck, blushing. “You get it so much, I guess it stuck with me.”

You beam at him, flattered that he memorized your relatively complicated order. He thought it was important to remember. It makes you feel special. With a sip of the drink, you take a deep breath, exhaling happily. “It’s absolutely perfect. Thank you.”

Cheeks still pink, he responds, “It’s really nothing.”

There it is again. That spark. A blaze that burns just barely, enough to provide light and warmth in a dim, dark place. It’s amazing how something so simple, so seemingly insignificant, can do that. You do your best to suppress these emotions, knowing all too well that there’s a long way to go when it comes to you and Eren. That doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate the progress.

The next few hours continue, the four of you concentrated on your own studies. When the sun sets, you gather your belongings and head to the dining hall to eat.

The topic of summer vacation comes up. Mikasa is already aware of your plans, but you decide to announce it to Armin and Eren.

“I’ll be staying on-campus. I’m required to complete one summer session for my major so that I can graduate on time.”

Armin says, “Really? Eren, aren’t you doing a summer session as well?”

This is brand new information. Mikasa also seems surprised by this. “You’re going to be here for the summer too?”

Eren nods, eyes focused down at his plate. “Yeah, I talked with Pyxis this week and he suggested that I do one to get in some extra classes. Told me it’s better for my resume when I apply to law school. He was able to pull some strings and get me enrolled last minute; I just found out yesterday.”

Mikasa, who’s sitting next to you, squeezes your knee lightly underneath the table.

“I guess we’ll both be here,” you murmur, unsure how else to react.

“Yeah, I guess we will.” His expression is unreadable. For a split second, though, he smiles.

Later that night, with you and Mikasa ready for bed and snuggled under the covers, she turns to face you. “Are you going to be okay? Being here with Eren for the summer?”

“Of course. It’s not going to change anything. We’ve been okay this whole semester.”

“Yeah, but Armin and I aren’t going to be here. Do you think you’ll want to hang out with him? Alone?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. We haven’t been alone together since…well, you know. I don’t know how awkward that will be.”

“You’ll both be at Reiss. All the students doing summer sessions are housed there.”

“So? What’s your point?”

“Living together in close quarters when nobody else is around to keep the two of you dummies in check? What do you think will happen?”

Rolling your eyes, you indulge her. “Tell me.”

“You’ll fuck! The two of you will start fucking again!”

“Mikasa, that’s not going to happen. First of all, the apartments are big. It’s not like we’ll be next door neighbors. I probably won’t be seeing him much. And second, even if we do run into each other, we’ll say our usual hellos, do some small talk, and that’s it! What do you think we’ve been doing the past few months. Everything is under control.”

“Oh please. Don’t think for a second that the little flirtations you and Eren have been exchanging are going unnoticed,” she reveals.

“What? We don’t flirt!”

“Oh really?” She sits up aggressively, mimicking you from earlier. “Oh Eren, it’s perfect! How did you know?” In a second, she switches to Eren, copying his deep voice, “I don’t know baby. Just stuck with me I guess. Want to touch my abs now?”

You throw a pillow at her, unable to contain your laughter. “Shut up! That’s not what we sounded like!”

“That’s exactly how you sounded,” she teases, tossing it back to you. “It’s obvious he still has feelings for you.”

“I don’t know about that – ”

“And I know you still have feelings for him, too. Neither of you will ever admit it, but we all know.”

Shocked by her accusation, you sputter, “Huh? That’s not…how do you…”

“We’re sisters. Of course I know.”

You remain silent, neither confirming nor denying her suspicions. It wouldn’t matter anyways with how confident she sounds.

“I’m not saying you two shouldn’t reconnect. To be honest, it seems like Eren is back to his normal self, before his whole wannabe fuck boy phase. I want to make sure that you’re ready to take that next step. If that’s what you really want.”

“I don’t know what I want yet. We’re taking it slow. There’s no rush.”

“And that’s great. I don’t doubt that you’ll continue to succeed in that. But I’m sure there will come a time that you’ll be tempted to revisit those intimate moments the two of you share. If you do go through with it, do it because you want to. Not because you’re lonely, desperate, or pressured. Do it because it feels right in your heart.”

You let her advice sink in. She adds, “If you ever need someone to talk to, you know I’m always a phone call away.”

In the dim light, you can see her sincere eyes gazing at you. “Thank you,” you tell her, promising telepathically to heed her words of wisdom.

The discussion ends there, leaving it up to you to decide when the “right time” is. Or if there will ever be a “right time”.

One thing is for sure: this summer is already more interesting because of Eren Jaeger.

At the end of the semester, the seniors graduate in the standard pomp and circumstance ceremony. You exchange tearful goodbyes to your favorite graduates, promising to keep in touch. Hange makes you swear to visit her at Marley School of Medicine, while Petra promises to stop by whenever she’s in the area. The candy leis you, Mikasa, and Sasha spent the previous night crafting are distributed to all the Sigma Nu Kappa seniors, even some Alpha Tau’s, including Levi, Erwin, and of course, Mike. You give him an especially fond smooch on the cheek.

With the school year officially over, most of Paradis’s students pack up and go home. Annie and Hitch agree to stay an extra day to help you move into the on-campus apartments called Reiss Residence, open specifically for students staying for the summer. It takes at least two hours to haul your belongings across campus to your new home. Being on the second floor of the complex with an elevator that operates at a snail’s pace contributes to the difficulty. Once your stuff is inside, you unpack, dragging boxes up the stairs into one of the empty bedrooms. Downstairs is a living room space furnished with a couch and coffee table. There’s also a little kitchen, complete with all the essential appliances to cook. Unfortunately, you don’t have any pots or pans to actually prepare a meal, so you pray that your roommate moves in with those items in her possession.

Exhausted from the move and too lazy to walk over to the dining hall, you call a local pizza shop to get dinner delivered directly to your doorstep, treating your friends for helping you during this tiring process. In the middle of your meal, you hear a knock on your door.

“RA knocking! Anyone in there?” When you open it, a tall, well-built man stands in front of you with a clipboard. “Hi! I’m Onyankopon, your new RA.”

You introduce yourself, smiling as you shake hands.

“Welcome to Reiss. My room is downstairs, #101. Knock anytime you need anything. If I’m not in, feel free to call me.” He gives you a sheet of paper listing general rules and information for the complex. He points at the number typed on the bottom next to his name.

“I see you’re pretty much moved in. I just need to get you checked-in with a date and a signature.” He presents you the clipboard and a pen. You scan it quickly for your name, signing it when you find it. Not bothering to check the rest of the list, you return it to him.

“Awesome, thanks. Has your roommate moved in?”

“No, not yet.”

“That’s okay. I’ll come by tomorrow again to check. Some students are coming in tomorrow, even later this week since classes don’t start until Monday. I’m planning to have a little welcoming party in my room Sunday night to introduce everyone. I’ll post the details on the bulletin next to the laundry room on this floor.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to it,” you tell him, genuinely excited.

“Don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything!” With that, he waves goodbye, leaving to knock on the rest of the doors on your floor.

Back inside, Annie says, “He seems nice.”

“And hot,” Hitch smirks. “Aren’t RAs for these apartments usually grad students? You should try older men for a change,” she teases with a wink.

You roll your eyes. “I don’t think he’ll be interested in an undergrad if he really is a grad student.”

“Hey, you never know unless you try! How hot would that be, sex with the RA? This stuff doesn’t write itself.”

You laugh, half considering her suggestion because she’s not wrong: your new RA is very attractive. However, you’re still taking time to focus on yourself and avoid potential drama. If that means remaining celibate the rest of the summer, then that’s the route you’ll have to continue taking.

“Armin told me that Eren is also going to be here. Is that going to be weird for you?” Annie asks, finishing off her slice of pizza.

“I don’t know. We probably won’t see much of each other unless we literally live right next door, which isn’t going to happen.”

“Think you’ll try to hang out with him one-on-one? I mean, you practically saw each other every day the past few months.”

“That’s different; we’re always with Mikasa and Armin. There’s a buffer.”

“Do you even want to hang out with him? As friends?”

It’s definitely crossed your mind. Mikasa’s words have been replaying constantly the past couple of days. Do it because it feels right in your heart.

You haven’t seen him since the last study session, and the thought of running into him any minute now has you flustered. Is it worry? Or excitement?

“I don’t think I’m there yet,” you respond, remaining ambiguous.

Instead of continuing to pester you, they drop it, changing the subject to Eta Iota gossip going around about one of Hitch’s sisters hooking up with another’s boyfriend. You listen passively, your focus still on Eren.

Given your history, it might be dangerous to be alone together. You’d be lying to yourself if you said your intimate memories with him have never reappeared in your thoughts. They pop up in your head, particularly at night when you need some sort of sweet release.

Hanging out, without Mikasa and Armin there to regulate, is a big step. Will you ever get there with him? Can you ever be friends?

The next morning, you eat breakfast with Hitch and Annie at the cafeteria before they leave for home. Back at your apartment, you notice the door is open, boxes stacked and scattered around the living room. You hear shuffling upstairs and a girl’s voice talking to someone on speaker phone. You knock on the open door loudly to announce your presence.

A girl with light-brown hair in a ponytail comes sprinting down the stairs, smiling. “Roomie!” She launches herself towards you to give you a big hug. “I’m Hannah! Nice to meet you!”

You return her embrace and introduce yourself, making small talk while you help her move her things to her bedroom. Throughout the day, you learn that she is cheerful and easy-going. She mentions her boyfriend Franz, who she warns will be coming over quite often, to which you assure her that you don’t mind.

When she’s unpacked, the two of you walk to the store right off campus to pick up groceries and snacks. That night, you cook your first meal in the kitchen. Luckily, Hannah comes prepared with kitchenware, offering to share it as long as you clean it after use.

Friday, Hannah decides to spend the weekend with Franz once more before the session begins, leaving you alone in the apartment. You sleep in, taking advantage of the few days left of your tiny break.

Around noon, your growling stomach gets you out of bed. In your comfiest sweats, you leave your apartment. For the first time this week, you notice the door next to yours is open. Outside is a middle-aged woman with long black hair in a loose ponytail hanging over her shoulder. There are clothes scattered over the pavement surrounding her as she carries an empty laundry basket. Immediately, you bend down to pick up some of the littered fabric.

“Ah, thank you, dear. I’m such a klutz,” she giggles, squatting to help. “These are clean, don’t worry.”

You chuckle, giving her a pair of sweatpants. The two of your collect the last few items off the ground. “I hope I didn’t take too much time out of your day!” she says.

“Not at all. I was just on my way to get lunch. I’m in no rush. Happy to help.”

“I’m relieved to know my son is living next to someone as sweet as you. Thank you again for all your help.”

Her appreciation for such a simple act is endearing. She seems like such a lovely woman. You smile at her, reiterating how it wasn’t a big deal when you hear someone walk towards you from behind.

You turn to check who it is, almost choking when you recognize that it’s Eren. He blinks rapidly as he stutters your name.

Somehow, some way, the universe has forced you two to be next door neighbors.

Eren’s mom glances at him, then at you. “Oh, you two know each other? How nice! She was helping me pick up your laundry after I dropped it all on the ground.”

He steps towards his mother, grabbing the sides of the basket. “Mom, I told you I’d get that. It’s heavy,” he states, carrying it easily. He glances at you before heading back inside his apartment to set the clothes down.

His mom asks you, “So, you two are friends?”

What is the correct answer here? You’re not quite sure yourself.

Eren quickly replies, “Yes, we’re friends.” He smiles at you, then at his mom.

“Oh good! I don’t have to worry about my son being lonely this summer,” his mom teases, pinching one of his cheeks.

“Mom,” Eren warns, waving her off lovingly. It’s cute.

“Your dad should be here soon; he went to get gas after we unloaded all of your things from the car.”

“That’s nice you’re here to help Eren move. I wish I had a car when I moved. We had to lug everything from across campus,” you explain, laughing.

“Oh you poor thing. Next time, tell Eren to help you. As you can see, he has plenty of muscles,” she comments, squeezing his bicep.

“Mom, seriously,” he mutters, hand shielding his face in embarrassment.

“He’s so shy, isn’t he?” she grins. Eren peeks at you between his fingers, a blush surrounding his cheeks.

His mom’s phone chimes. “Oh! That’s your father, let’s go sweetie.”

You’re ready to part ways when you hear her suggest, “You should come to lunch with us!”

Going to lunch with your former fuck buddy’s parents? And your former fuck buddy turned acquaintance slash friend? This is too weird. “No, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense. We’re inviting you.”

Expecting him to dissuade his mother, Eren agrees. “Yeah, you should come with us. It’ll be fun.” His expression is warm and inviting. His eyes glisten with kindness. How can you decline an invite from both him and his mother?

“Oh…um, okay. Thank you,” you relent, walking besides them.

“Silly me! I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Carla,” she mentions, holding out her hand. You do the same as the three of you head downstairs. In the parking lot, you spot a maroon Subaru Hatchback running. A man with glasses sits in the driver’s seat.

“Honey, Eren’s friend here is going to join us for lunch!” Carla exclaims.

From inside the vehicle, you see him clap giddily. “Excellent! Hello Eren’s friend!”

Carla informs her husband of your name, to which he enthusiastically repeats. You grin at their quirkiness. From the corner of your eye, you see Eren smiling too.

~~~

Somehow, some way, the universe has blessed Eren.

He can’t comprehend it. He’s sitting in the back of the car next to her, the middle seat being the only distance between them, as his parents drive them to his favorite restaurant in the area. He literally pinches himself several times to believe it’s real.

His mom does most of the chatting during the ride. She asks the standard questions, most of which he’s already memorized about her. At the restaurant, which is a local diner with the best milkshakes, his dad joins in on the small talk. In typical Grisha Jaeger fashion, he brags about Zeke, who’s currently in med school to take over the family business. This naturally prompts him to pat Eren on the back and proclaim, “But I’m also proud of my other son here, who’s going to be a hot-shot lawyer one day! Hopefully he won’t ever be prosecuting me for medical malpractice!”

Aside from his dad’s corny jokes, their lunch is as delightful as Eren could imagine it to be, under their current circumstances. All week, he’s been nervous about the status of their relationship this summer, if there even would be a relationship. Without Armin and Mikasa around, how would it be between them? The question has been nagging him since he decided to stay. And now, it’s been partially answered. Still, he wonders if they’ll ever be able to spend time together, just the two of them.

Back at the apartment, they gather in front of Eren’s room.

“Thank you so much for lunch, Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger,” she says.

“Oh please, the pleasure was all ours! We hope to see you again soon!”

Eren eyes his mom, to which she announces, “Grisha, honey, let’s unpack some of Eren’s stuff in the kitchen.” Before his dad can get a word in, she drags him into the apartment, yelling out, “Sweetheart, it was so nice to finally meet you. Please take good care of yourself!” He nearly flinches at his mom’s slip-up. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed.

At last alone with her, he says, “Thank you for joining us. That was fun. I hope it wasn’t awkward for you or anything.”

“No, it wasn’t. Your parents are really nice. Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Are you all unpacked?” he asks, eager to keep their exchange going.

“Yeah, for the most part. I don’t have too many things, so it wasn’t so bad.”

“I’m the opposite. My mom made sure I packed everything. I might have to use the spare bedroom for storage.”

Her eyes light up at this statement. “You don’t have a roommate?”

“Nope. It’s just me,” he answers. “My dad is going to help me move the other bed into my room to create a queen-sized bed.”

“That sounds nice.” There’s a small pause before she adds, “Maybe we can hang out at your place. Not on the bed, I’m not thinking that because of the bed, I thought that since you don’t have a roommate, it might be nice to, y’know, watch a movie or something, I don’t know – ”

He stops her rambling with a grin, “I get it. I wasn’t thinking anything about it. But yeah, we should definitely do that. If it’s okay with you.” Calm, cool, collective. He has to appear this way as fireworks are nearly bursting out of his chest.

She nods, not explicitly responding to his last statement. “Anyways, I’ll let you get back to unpacking. I’ll see you around.”

It’s too short. He wishes they could keep chatting forever and ever. “Yeah, see you.”

She disappears into her apartment, leaving Eren to pinch himself one more time before joining his parents inside. In a daze, he removes some pans from the open box next to his mom, who looks at him curiously.

“Honey, Eren and I are going to unpack his clothes in his room. Can you finish the rest of these boxes down here?”

“Yes, dear.”

Upstairs, Eren’s mom shuts the door and begins hanging his jackets in the closet. “So, that’s her.”

There’s no secrets between him and his mom. That’s the type of relationship they have. When he fucked up last semester, he made sure to come clean about it as soon as he was home for winter break. And she made sure to give him a piece of her mind. Since then, she hasn’t stopped.

“I can’t believe you would do that to a sweet girl like her,” she continues, casually unfolding his laundry as she scolds him. “Really, Eren. I am still so disappointed in you.”

“I know, Mom. I know. I fucked up. I beat myself up about it every day.”

“I hope you do. Did you know that she would be next door?”

“Of course not. I knew she was staying at these apartments. I never predicted this. I mean, I jokingly wished for it. I didn’t think it’d actually come true.” He can’t help but smile to himself, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.

She glares at him. “Don’t get any ideas, son. You have to keep your distance. She might still be wary about you. I wouldn’t blame her.”

“Yeah, I know. I will. But when I told her I don’t have a roommate, she said that we should hang out. I think she’s ready to be friends.”

She stops what she’s doing to look at him carefully. “Honey, are you sure about this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it time to move on? I know you still have feelings for her, but this is dangerous. You don’t know if she’ll ever feel the same way about you again. Maybe this ship has sailed.”

He contemplates this for a while before saying, “Maybe. But if there’s the tiniest chance, then I’m wearing a life vest and swimming. I’m not letting her go. Not yet.”

She stares at him, concerned. “You like her that much?”

With full confidence, he answers, “I’m in love with her. I love her, Mom.” This is the first he’s confessing it out loud. He’s surer of it now hearing it in his own voice.

“Eren, you’re not even dating. You barely know her. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous. I feel it in my heart, in my fucking soul. I can’t stop thinking about her. Everything I do now is for her. To prove to her how worthy of a man I can be, worthy of her love. I won’t give up until the day she looks me in the eyes and tells me that it’s never going to happen. Maybe even then, I won’t give up. I know you probably think I’m being immature or idiotic. But this is how I feel. I can’t help it.”

“Honey, I hear you, and I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings. But are you prepared to get hurt if this doesn’t work out the way you want it to?” There’s urgency in her voice, almost like she’s pleading with him to reconsider this. To give up, for his own sake.

He won’t. This is the most certain he’s ever been in his life.

“If that means I’m going to get hurt, then fine. It’ll be worth it to have felt something than nothing at all.”

~~~

Sunday night, your RA hosts a gathering in his slightly larger apartment on the first floor. Hannah isn’t back from her boyfriend’s, so you arrive alone. You meet a few of the other residents as you help yourself to a slice of pizza and a drink. Onyankopon gathers everyone in a circle to play a little ice-breaker game. Just as he’s about to start, Eren walks in.

“Sorry I’m late,” he mumbles.

“No worries, man! Go ahead and take a spot in the circle.”

You glance at him, waving, which he returns with a smile. He positions himself across from you, next to an auburn-headed guy you sort of recognize from one of the fraternities.

Onyankopon asks everyone in the circle state their name, year, major, organizations they are involved in on campus, and one interesting fact. He starts, explaining how he completed his bachelors at a school private school in Marley and is now working on his masters in aerospace engineering here at Paradis. Each resident clockwise has their turn to speak. When it gets to Eren, he shares that he has a big sweet tooth, which you already knew, and that he has finished an entire chocolate cake all by himself once in his lifetime, which you did not know.

After the event, you bid farewell to your RA and new neighbors. Outside, Eren walks slow, waiting for you. You catch up to him, greeting him with a, “Hey.”

“Hi. Are you ready for classes tomorrow? Feels like we barely had a break.”

“Not sure if I’m ever really ready for classes. Oh well,” you chuckle. “Do you have an early morning class?”

“No. Thankfully my earliest class is at 11, which isn’t bad.”

“That’s the same for me too! It’ll be nice to sleep in once in a while.”

“Yeah, definitely.” There’s a pause. “Maybe we can get breakfast some time. If you’re up for it.”

You remember him being so against sharing a meal together in public not too long ago. And now, he’s offering the idea so easily. You can’t help but tease him just a bit. “You don’t want to get it delivered?”

He stops in his tracks. “Hey, I didn’t…I wasn’t…I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking – ”

You nudge him in the arm with your elbow, laughing. “I’m messing with you. Breakfast sounds good.”

His face relaxes. “I deserve that.”

“Yeah, you do,” you smirk.

It’s different this time around. It has to be.

~~~

The session starts and Eren, for the most part, has a handle on his courses. Without it being as rigorous as a regular semester, he spends a large chunk of his free time going to the gym, cooking in his kitchen, and watching Netflix on his flat-screen TV, courtesy of Dr. Grisha Jaeger.

Though the walls are thin, he barely hears a bump from his lovely neighbor. However, knowing she’s there brings him happiness. Over the past few weeks, they’ve been getting comfortable chatting outside the apartment. Sometimes for a few minutes if either of them is in a rush to another destination, most of the time for nearly half an hour, neither in any rush to end it. He looks forward to stepping outside his apartment every day to get his daily dose of her. An instant serotonin boost.

One Friday night, well into the season, Eren sits on the couch in front of the TV, watching a K-drama he’s hooked on. He finished a bowl of pasta for dinner and is indulging in ice cream when he hears a knock on his door.

He cracks it open cautiously. To his delight, it’s her. “Hi neighbor. Can I hang out here for a bit?”

It takes a while to process. Is he dreaming? He pulls himself together and opens the door for her, inviting her in. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just that my roommate and her boyfriend are having a heated argument right now and I’m almost certain it’s going to lead to some very loud and angry sex. I don’t want to be there to listen to it.” She plops down on the couch. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Not at all. I was just watching TV. Do you want some ice cream?”

“Sure!”

He rummages through his freezer, retrieving a particular carton of ice cream. As he scoops it into a bowl, she comments, “I didn’t expect you to be a fan of K-dramas.” She’s looking at the paused screen on the television, an amused expression on her face.

He passes her the bowl and takes a seat on the opposite side of the couch, an appropriate distance for two ex-lovers to be in. “I recently got into it. I can see why people are so obsessed with them. Especially the romance ones.”

She takes a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “Yum. This is my favorite. Thank you.”

There’s no point in revealing to her that he knows this already. She mentioned it once during spring semester. He wanted to try it himself, see why she adored it so much. Now, he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer. Not because he expects situations like this, but because he indulges in it himself to have the tiniest connection with her. It also helps that it is, in fact, yummy.

“So I’m guessing that you don’t get along with your roommate?” he asks, finishing the last bites of his melting ice cream.

“We get along fine. I just didn’t expect her and her boyfriend to be so loud. Especially during sex. It’s very distracting.”

“When you’re caught up in the heat of the moment, it’s easy to forget about everything and everybody else surrounding you,” he says. In the worst timing ever, he recalls their passionate nights, never holding back with each other.

She turns to look at him, a gleam in her eyes that sends his heart racing. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Is he imagining all of this? This pleasant vibe in the air?

He hastily grabs the remote and resumes the show, ending any more talk about sex. They finish the episode and watch one more before she deems it safe to return to her place.

“Thanks again for letting me come over. And for the ice cream.”

“Of course. I’m here anytime you need me.” The words slip out sooner than he can actually think it through. He panics, fearing he took a monumental step backwards.

Instead, she responds, “Okay. I’ll hold you to that.” Eren watches her leave and waits for the soft thud of her door shutting to close his.

Cheeks hot, perspiration beading on his forehead, he slides down the door and sits on the floor, burying his face in his sweaty palms.

His mom is right. This is dangerous.

~~~

The summer session is nearing the end. It goes by much faster than you expect. This is largely thanks to your next-door neighbor slash friend slash ex-lover Eren Jaeger. For a situation so complicated and messy, it’s been easy being with him, as friends.

It’s gotten to a point where you’re at his apartment nearly every weekend, usually watching a random show or movie. He’ll offer you whatever meal he can whip up in the kitchen on the fly; other nights you’ll order delivery or take-out from a local restaurant. And every dinner ends with three scoops of your favorite ice cream.

On some weekdays, you’ll wake up early to get breakfast together at the dining hall. You’ve since unblocked his number from your phone, so either he’ll text you, “Breakfast?” or you’ll knock on his door, knowing he’s already awake.

Not wanting to make the same mistakes as last year, you tell your friends everything, to which you get plenty of opinions about from them. Annie in particular isn’t shy to call you dumb for falling for the same trap again. In your defense, it doesn’t feel stressful this time around. What do either you or Eren gain from spending time together, besides companionship? Without sex being involved, could the two of you truly become friends? At this rate, you’re confident that you can.

The Friday leading into finals, you leave the library close to 1 AM. You got caught up finishing a paper for one of your classes, not realizing how late it is. The walk to your apartment isn’t far. However, being alone in the after-midnight darkness adds a level of creepiness that unsettles you. You slide your keys between your knuckles as a makeshift weapon and stroll directly under each lamp post for a sense of security.

When you arrive at the apartment complex, there’s a figure slouched at the bottom of the staircase leading up to your floor. You recognize him as one of the residents of the apartments. As you pass him on the steps, he grabs your ankle.

“Hey, can you help me?” His speech is slurred; he’s drunk.

Alarmed at his unwanted touch, you tug your foot away from him, muttering, “Sorry. No.” You hustle up the stairs, hoping he stays slumped there.

You hear shuffling as he cries out, “Come on! I locked myself out! Public Safety is taking forever. Let me stay in your apartment for a bit.”

He’s on your tail. Nervous for him to see which apartment you’re living in, you stop in front of the laundry room, reaching for the phone in your pocket. “I said no. I don’t know you.”

“I’m Floch. I’ve seen you around. You’re a Sigma Nu Kappa. I bet you’re an easy fuck.” He grabs you by the wrist aggressively, causing you to drop your phone onto the ground.

“Let go of me asshole!” On instinct, you kick him between the legs, directly in the balls.

He grunts, doubling over, clutching his hopefully shattered jewels. “You fucking bitch,” he spits out through gritted teeth.

Quickly, you retrieve your fallen phone and sprint to your room, desperate to hide from him. Shaking, you can’t get your keys into the lock. From your peripheral, you see him get back up slowly, limping towards you, holding onto his crotch like some perverted zombie. You continuously press the lock button on your phone, attempting to trigger the SOS signal as he closes the distance.

Suddenly, the next door swings open and Eren hovers over Floch, growling, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Your assailant shrinks, waving his hands in front of him in a pathetic surrender. “Whoa…Nothing man, I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You owe her an apology.”

“Huh? She’s the one who kicked my nuts – ’

“Did I fucking stutter? Apologize to her. Right fucking now, dipshit.”

“Okay, okay.” He peeks around Eren’s massive form to apologize. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t speak, staring at them in a catatonic state.

Eren steps forward, towering over him. “Now get the fuck away from her and wait outside your own goddamn apartment. And if you bother her again, I won’t be so nice.”

Without another word, Floch hobbles off, heading upstairs to the third level.

Eren looks at you, expression switching immediately from outrage to concern. “Are you okay?”

You’re still trembling as you nod. “Yeah. I’m…I’m okay.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. I kicked him in the balls before he could do anything.” You turn the handle to open the door, which you finally manage to get unlocked. “Thank you. That was…crazy.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I heard your voice from outside and I knew something was wrong. I’m glad I came out when I did.”

“Me too.” For some reason, you’re nervous to look at him, so you keep your focus on the ground.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thank you again.”

“It was nothing. Seriously. I’m here anytime you need me.”

You stand, frozen in place with fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins. Eren’s voice, despite being beside you, seems distant.

“You’re shaking,” he notices, watching you carefully.

“Yeah, I’m just…I don’t know. I wish my roommate was here. I don’t want to be alone right now.” Unfortunately, Hannah decided last minute to study for finals at her boyfriend’s this weekend.

After a moment of contemplation, he says, “You can stay at my place. Until you’re feeling better.”

“Are you sure? You don’t feel weird about this?”

“No. We’re friends. Right?” It’s more of a question he wants confirmed, unsure himself.

You smile at him. “Yes. Friends.”

~~~

He leads her inside his apartment, waving over to the couch. “I’ll be back. I’m going to get a pillow and a blanket.”

Prior to heading into his bedroom, he goes into the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. She’s in his apartment in the middle of the night, and he’s almost certain she will be sleeping here. She’s scared and traumatized from that asshole who attacked her, and she didn’t want to be alone, so he offered to help.

Has he crossed the line? Is this okay?

Back downstairs, he hands her a pillow and throw blanket. “Here you go. Let me know if you need anything else.”

He’s ready to march right upstairs, slam his door shut, and pretend that this is all totally normal. That he’s totally fine. This is what friends do. They help each other. And that’s what they are now. Friends.

“Wait.”

She looks at him, eyes precious, innocent, and sweet. Arms wrapped tightly around the pillow. It has him melting like ice cream on a hot summer day.

“Can you…stay with me a while?”

He swallows loudly, nervous and excited all at once. “Of course.”

She smiles softly, laying on the cushion with the blanket surrounding her. He kneels on the floor beside her, still in awe that this is happening.

“It smells like you,” she says, nose pressed into the pillow.

He laughs. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“Good. It smells good.”

It’s too much. He’s about to explode from glee. On the edge of the couch, he rests his arm, laying his head on it, gazing at her. He wants to brush the hair away from her forehead. Caress her delicate cheek with his hand. “Are you okay?”

“Still a little freaked out.”

“We should report it. I’ll let Onyankopon know now – ”

“We can talk to him in the morning. I don’t want to be left alone right now.” Her hand sneaks out from under the covers, inches from his. There’s electricity flickering in the small space. It jolts throughout his body, firing synapses into his brain.

“Can I hold your hand?” she asks, voice trembling.

He’s convinced he’s dreaming now. There’s no way this is happening. But it is. She’s here in front of him. As real as ever.

He hesitates, “Are you sure?”

She nods, carefully sliding her hand over his.

Everything plays in slow motion. They press their palms together slowly, fingertips lined up perfectly, skin-on-skin igniting the ember that still remains from months ago. Savoring this moment before it gets taken away. Their fingers interlock, fitting seamlessly as if they belong exactly like this.

Breathless, he asks again, “Are you sure this is okay?” His whole body vibrates from the palpations overwhelming his chest, still in disbelief this is actually happening.

“Yes, Eren.” Her voice is soft, supple. It soothes him, makes him feel at peace.

“I don’t want to rush this.”

“Me neither.”

They remain in this position for a while, cherishing it for all it’s worth. So much is communicated between them without speaking. It’s in the eyes, their touch. The warmth that she emits, filling him up with euphoria he can’t find elsewhere.

It’s different this time. It’s right. He’ll do everything in his power not to mess it up again. His word lost all value the second he used it against her. So instead of telling her how he feels, he has to show her. Prove to her that he’s no longer afraid.

~~~

“Can I show you something?” He looks at you tenderly, eyes sparkling like brilliant emeralds unearthed through the dust.

Curious, you agree, giving him your full attention, a flutter in your belly from the anticipation.

He places your palm over his chest, holding you gently against him. Through the cotton of his shirt, you feel his heart pounding hard and fast.

“This is how I feel about you. This is what you do to me.”

You keep steady, relishing the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat. Understanding exactly what he’s trying to convey to you.

The two of you were always lost in translation, unsure how the other felt, what the other wanted. You were on different pages, sometimes even in two different worlds. Somehow, someway, you are brought together again, now in the same orbit, revolving one other like the universe intended it.

Your story with Eren has already been written. It began at the start of fall semester, almost a year ago, and ended a few months later, before the bitter cold of winter. There are no rewrites, no rewinds to change the events that occurred. Mistakes were made, hearts were broken, a chance at love was lost. Far from a fairytale ending.

Maybe this is the beginning of the sequel, a story about two people who are far from perfect finding their way back to each other for one last shot. Picking up the shattered fragments to build something beautiful from the ground up, piece by piece. There may be cracks or missing parts throughout. In the end, maybe it’ll be a masterpiece you can both be proud of, flaws and all.

----------

End Note: Thank you for all of you who have taken the time to read Rush the whole way through. It’s been such a fun ride and I hope it was worth it. The love and support I’ve gotten throughout means so much to me, I can’t thank you enough! I have a few ideas about what I want to write next, so stay tuned!

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Tag List: @jaegerxeren @thelovewitch0v0 @hippiecultz @silver-foxling-blog @eren-slut @littlelaur27 @mokyowife @thenamesaceee @mxnst3rz @itswhits @diamandveins @ritzzberitzz @xartisticoutletx @izukusupreme @erensfavblackie @tippy-toes @monbebe101 @crtzrulestheworld @maqqiekwon @where-the-blackbirds-sing @minibold @hilichurl01 @jbird0508 @rainzelenia @anonbbygirlsblog @prettygirllisa @ctrllovre @4522-08 @laiorelle @pompompurjin @inbriannawestrust @alicebleu @sparkles-and-rust @neopussytechnology @kpopisbaeforever @kindmarely @weasleyisourking1 @taqsyq @guesswhosback129 @shinisthebest @hiromihanagaki @therarestruby @lovinghirotaka

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

Text

Mm, Daddy Daddy

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: Being a student is hard. For your Master's degree, you have to contend with classes, labs, and assignments in addition to feeding yourself. You're treading water coming into the end of the Spring Semester when your roommate tells you she is breaking her portion of your lease and moving in with her new fiancé. You're left at wit's end and you're not sure how you'll make ends meet. Until, that is, a friend and colleague suggests a website called icanbeyourbaby.com. You're not sure what you'll find there, but Jake Seresin is not it. He's everything you've ever dreamed of and more. But can you keep him despite the contract the website insists you draw up? Will this ever be more than a short-term business arrangement? You hope so. Disclaimer: Female Reader, Slight BDSM, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. This is also very clearly an AU! In this universe, Jake is a high flying, jet-setting lawyer, a very successful one. This is a story completely full of adult elements. It is for adults 18+ only. Minors Do Not Interact. Warnings: Reader gets paid for her companionship. This is a Sugar Daddy/ Sugar Baby agreement, after all. Word Count: 4354 Author Note: Hello, hello all you beautiful people! I'm insatiable and you only have @desert-fern to blame for putting this thought in my head. Fern, this one is for you! I hope you'll find yourself a Jake to entice you into studying and call you 'His Good Girl'! 🥰 😘 Also, the real ones know. The title for this fic comes from Sam Smith & Kim Petras - Unholy.

AO3: Cross-posted here! Wattpad: Cross-posted here! Anthology Masterlist My Masterlist

College sucks. You love learning, and you love being surrounded by so many different, amazingly talented people. What sucks is how expensive it is. Even with a scholarship, a roommate, and not one, but two full time jobs, you're just barely making ends meet. You've just gotten out of a double shift from hell when you walk into your apartment to see that Joanna, your roommate, has her boyfriend over. They're making out on the couch, and while you'd love to ignore them, you need to make yourself dinner and then write a ten page treatise on the effects of pollution on bivalves due tomorrow during your last class for your final grade.

Just as you're pulling your last Cup Noodles out of the microwave, making a mental note to buy more tomorrow, Joanna speaks up.

"Hey, Blue." She sounds nervous for some reason. "I'm glad I caught you before you headed to your room for the night."

"Hey, Jo!" You sound about as tired as you look. "What's up?"

"Well…. Austinproposedtomeandisaidyes." Her last words are too fast for your already stressed brain.

"One more time, Jo? Slowly?" You point to your head. "My brain's kinda fried and I didn't get any of that."

"I said, Austin proposed to me and I said yes." She's proffering her left hand out to you and you can't help your own squeal of glee as you examine the ring and congratulate her.

"Umm, you're the sweetest, you know that, Blue?" Why does she sound so sad when she’s telling you such nice things? "I hate to do this to you, but, um. Well, I'm moving in with Austin this weekend. Our landlady is letting me break my part of the lease, so the place is all yours."

You just congratulate her again, and watch as she and Austin retreat to her bedroom. When the apartment is quiet again, you begin to think. You dimly note how the fork in your hands goes clattering onto the countertop as you try to mentally catalog how many extra shifts you'll need to take to make your next month's rent payment and pay for classes at the same time. But no matter how you do the math, it doesn't add up. You'd need to work more hours than there are in the day and you still wouldn't have enough money.

It's a conundrum that continues to churn away in the back of your mind as you slurp down the cold noodles and finish writing your paper. You'll need another roommate, at the very least. But summer break has already begun, and you're not likely to find one. Los Angeles is expensive. You mull it over for weeks, even after Joanna moves out. It's your lab partner at the Marine Institute, a girl named Samantha, who suggests an unlikely idea which might just be the most likely solution.

"Create a profile on this site: icanbeyourbaby.com. It's a sugar daddy/sugar baby site. It's full of older men looking for companionship. I started it a couple of months ago and I don't have to worry about anything anymore." It's true. Sammie doesn't look stressed or tired anymore. Her clothes are all new. You thought she'd just gotten a great job, which is why you'd asked if her boss was hiring. You'd never have expected Sammie with her neon pink and yellow hair, piercings and tattoos to be a sugar baby.

You turn the thought over and over in your head, trying to puzzle another way out of your situation without going into prostitution or living in the campus library out of a duffle bag for the rest of the year. When nothing else comes to mind, you fill out a profile on icanbeyourbaby. You stay as true to yourself as you can, feeling heat in your face and ears at the extremely in depth questions about sexual experience and kinks. Finally, you add a selfie taken recently at a friend's birthday party and hit submit. The congratulations screen is so cheery that you almost immediately want to slam your laptop lid down and curl up under your blankets.

But you don't, because right as you try to, huge cheesy letters spell out "Congratulations, you got a match!" You're then routed into a chat window. You've been matched with a user called longhornlover, and when you click onto his profile, your jaw nearly drops out of its socket.

His name, when you read through the details, is Jake Seresin. He's a lawyer working for a law firm downtown. He's just turned 34, and you can't quote this enough, he "needs a pretty girl on his arm for galas, dinners and parties, who is intelligent and able to keep up a conversation". Is this guy for real? At least the age gap isn't too bad. He's only 11 years older than you. Money is apparently no object and when you've flipped back to the open chat window, he's already messaged you asking you to meet him for coffee.

You can't be blamed for saying yes, right? It's way too easy to sink into chatting with Jake on the app. He's more attentive than every man you've ever spoken to and he gives you butterflies every time he messages you good morning.

The day of your first date, you wear your best dress and walk out of your building, prepared to walk to the bus stop in order to make it to your date on time. You're definitely not expecting the shining blue Porsche idling on the street or the six-foot tall man leaning elegantly against the door. Jake's even more gorgeous in person.

You stammer all over yourself as you greet him and then allow him to help you into the car, and whisk you away. He takes you to a little coffee shop outside of the city. The hostess leads you to a secluded booth and hands you a menu that is a leather bound book with no prices anywhere on the pages. It's quiet as you order an iced coffee and hand the menu back over.

"So, Blue, can I call you that?" At your nod, he continues, "Why did you sign up? What made you consider being a sugar baby?"

"Oh, I, um. My roommate just moved out, I'm working two jobs and I don't know if I'll be able to make rent, my school fees or be able to feed myself now that she's not going to be able to split rent with me." Your voice is quiet, ashamed. You're asking a stranger for money, practically.

"You're in school, your profile said. What are you studying?" He glosses over your shame so easily. Rich people really do have different cares from ordinary people like you.

"I'm at the University of San Diego getting my Masters in Environmental and Ocean studies." At his inquiring glance you continue, elaborating on the program a little bit. You finish up just as your waitress drops off your coffee, twirling her manicured nails in her hair as she smiles fetchingly at Jake. It's very satisfying to see how he doesn't respond to her at all.

"Thank you for telling me about yourself." He takes a sip of his coffee. "So what are you hoping to get out of this arrangement?"

This is the question you've been asking yourself non-stop for the past few days.

"I'd like to not have to worry about whether I'll be able to eat if I pay my rent and tuition. Or if I'll be able to sleep at night if I work and still have assignments I need to complete." You sip on your coffee, praying that all of your nervous sweating hasn't exposed the raccoon circles permanently tattooed under your eyes. "W-what do you want out of this?"

"I want you to be healthy and happy. And, when I have a company party or event to attend, I want you on my arm, smiling and being just as gorgeous as you are right now." His voice is so soft that the butterflies swarm up your esophagus.

"I can do that. Um, what about, um, sex things?" Your voice drops down to a whisper as you say the last words, sinking into your chair while furtively glancing around to see if anyone heard you.

"That's all up to you. I'd love to be able to call you my girlfriend and lavish a bunch of affection on you, including making you feel good. If that's something you're not comfortable with, then let me know." Jake's green eyes are glimmering with amusement as you stutter out your agreement.

Your eyes go even wider when he fishes an iPad out of his briefcase and pulls out a contract. He goes over every inch of it with you, making changes based on your comfort level, and then you both sign. That's how you became a sugar baby.

At the beginning it was all new and exciting. Jake deposited a quarter of a million dollars into your bank account the next morning, calling it your quarterly allowance. A part of you still doesn't believe that he's real. In the six months since that day, you've gone to no fewer than five parties, dressed to the nines in designer gowns with diamonds dripping off of your fingers, throat and wrists and been swanned around as Jake Seresin's girlfriend.

You love the kisses and possessive grip he has on your waist at those events. But you're at the point in your relationship, and it is a relationship - Jake had shredded the contract months ago, where you want more. You want the sleepovers at his penthouse downtown. You want him to call you his Good Girl and mean it as you bounce on his cock. So you take matters into your own hands. One Friday afternoon you let yourself into his penthouse, glad that at least you have the keys and don't need permission to do so. You set your bookbag down on the leather ottoman in the living room and pad into his bedroom.

Jake's bedroom is your favorite place in the entire apartment. It's all pale wood and glass. His bed sits against the sole wall, a plush pillowy California King that you love taking naps in. You walk into the gigantic walk-in closet and pull out one of his button-down shirts, a pale cream one that you love seeing on his golden skin. The fabric is rich and silky and most importantly, ever so slightly transparent. You strip off all of your clothes and swathe yourself in the silky shirt. The cool fabric has your nipples turning into firm points and as you look at yourself in the mirror, you know Jake's going to love seeing you in his clothes, too.

Then comes the next part of your plan. You settle down on the sofa with a throw over your lap and begin to study. Even though you have seduction on your mind, it's still finals season. Now, you wait. You're completely immersed in your Marine Law class when you hear the door open and Jake walks through the door. He's got a bag of groceries in one hand and his briefcase in the other.

"Hi, doll!" He sounds exhausted.

"Hi, Jake!" Your voice is soft as you wave at him from your blanket burrito on the couch.

"How was your day, baby?" He sounds exhausted. You answer him from the couch, barely noticing him until you feel a kiss press against the side of your head. It's Jake, now dressed in just a pair of sweats with damp hair.

"When did you shower?" You can't help the confusion in your voice as you rub at your eyes from behind the frames of your glasses.

"Twenty minutes ago, baby." You can feel the amusement in his voice. "What're you so immersed in, huh?"

"Marine law." You keep scanning the slides in front of you, ignoring how his hands are tracing across your shoulders.

"Y'know, baby doll, I am a lawyer. So you can ask me for help if you want?" You can feel your resolve flagging as he sets your laptop down, unwraps you slowly from the throw, and tugs you into his lap. His hands trail teasingly over the bar expanse of your thighs, pausing at the junction of your hips, caressing the soft bare skin there.

"What do we have here, Baby Blue?" His voice is deep and velvety as he rucks the shirt up a little, knuckles firm against your bare stomach.

"W-wanted to wear your shirt, Daddy." You can hear the rumble of his voice as he groans, trailing his fingers over your peaked nipples and back down to the apex of your thighs.

"And the rest of your clothes?" He's got a firm grip on each thigh, tugging them apart until your bare pussy is completely exposed.

"I-I took 'em off. Just wanted to be surrounded by your scent, Daddy." Your voice is a mewl as Jake massages teasingly over your clit, the barely there touches sending even more heat coiling through your veins.

"And you decided to be my good girl and study while you waited for Daddy to come home?" His calloused fingers pluck at your nipples with each word.

"Y-yes." Your chest is heaving, your mind going fuzzy and blank as Jake's - no - Daddy's hands rob you of all thought.

"You've been such a good girl, baby doll. D'you want your reward?" The fondness in Daddy's voice has you writhing as his hands open your tight walls up for him.

"Yes please, Daddy! Please!" He lifts you up with one thick forearm before working the sweats down to his knees. Now, you can feel Daddy's cock as it glides over your weeping hole as you wriggle in his lap.

"Come sit on this cock, Blue, baby." He punctuates the order with kisses that steal the breath from your lungs. You love when Daddy kisses you like this. You tug the constricting button down off, and carefully sink down onto his hard length. Daddy's cock is so big and thick that it nearly splits you apart. Each inch has your mouth open in a silent scream, and when he bottoms out, you're sweaty and exhausted. Your skin feels too tight and electric shocks are zipping across every inch that he touches.

Daddy takes pity on you, letting you quiet on his cock, feeling how your walls clench around his length as you settle back against his chest.

"God, look at you, baby Blue. So pretty, my good girl, impaled on Daddy's cock like that." Daddy's big hands cup your tits, and you shudder before melting further into his arms. After several moments, he leans forward, tugging your laptop back onto your lap. "Gotta make sure my good girl is comfy. That she knows daddy is here for her always. Now, you sit here and study. If you're good, I'll fuck you until you scream later."

You're already so wet and aching for Daddy, that it'll be sweet torture to spend so long impaled on his length. His cock is pressing up against all the parts that make you see stars. But you're Daddy's good girl. So you do what he says. The first few pages, you're completely distracted, wriggling around in Daddy's lap, wanting more stimulation. But eventually you fall into a flow state, Daddy's presence comforting.

You lose time. You must, because it's dark when the laptop closes and Daddy peppers kisses across your exposed shoulders. You're still impaled on his length, each thick inch pressing against your walls in the perfect way. You're slow to respond to the teasing caresses, nuzzling against the palm of Daddy's hand sweetly.

"Aww, baby Blue. You're so good for me, doll." Daddy's voice sounds so fond and it makes a small part of you light up. His praise and gentle words make you feel even better than his cock buried in you. When he lifts you off of his length, you sob at the empty feeling, weeping cunt clenching on nothing where it had once been wrapped around Daddy.

Before you can blink, you're splayed out on your back on Daddy's comfy leather sofa. He's crouched between your legs, gazing raptly at your heat as he pets across your hips and lower belly in slow soothing strokes.

"D-daddy?" Your voice is tiny, as you try to swivel and nudge your hips closer to him.

"Yeah, baby doll?" Daddy punctuates his words with kisses against your inner thighs and your mound. Your mind whites out a bit at the pressure as he flattens his tongue over your fluttering, wet slit. His voice is smug as he continues, "D'you want something from Daddy, baby?"

You don't get the chance to respond, though. Between one breath and the next, you're being treated like a steak dinner placed before a starving man. Daddy feels like he's everywhere. His mouth and fingers devour you whole. Your entire body feels like a live wire, warring sensations dancing like electric currents across your skin as the band in your gut winds tighter and tighter. It feels like you're on a tightrope, dangling over a cliff.

Each heaving breath feels like too much and yet not enough oxygen is entering your lungs. You're begging and babbling, tugging on Daddy's hair in graceless sweeping motions as your mind forgets how to move or do anything than be at Daddy's pleasure. It's when Daddy growls against your cunt that you cum, screaming his name as your muscles lock with the force of your orgasm.

When you come back to yourself, it's on the cool satin sheets of Daddy's big bed. You feel wrung out and exhausted, mind floaty even as your limbs struggle to cooperate. You've just managed to sit up when Daddy wanders in, holding a condensation covered glass in his big hand. You make grabby hands for him, smiling as he drags you against his chest as you sip on the cool juice in the glass.

"How are you feeling, baby?" You nuzzle in closer, sleepily peppering kisses across his chest.

"Feel good, Daddy. Y'always make me feel good." The kiss Daddy presses against your lips consumes you body and soul. It takes several moments before you collect your frayed strands of thought.

"B-but, what about you, daddy? Did you cum?" Your voice is soft as you take his length in your hand.

"No, Blue, baby." His breathing hitches with each pass of your hand as you work his length in your fist. "But you don't have ta'...... Ahh!"

Each stuttering breath makes your smile just a little wider. Daddy's so pretty, his tawny mane of hair spread out against the pillow as a flush spreads across his chest. His big hand is curled around your bare hip as you slowly pump his length.

"Doll, are you just going to tease me all night?" His voice is so fond as he tugs you close.

"No, Daddy." You melt into his chest as he kisses you. Each long slow slide of his tongue plundering your mouth has you pressing yourself closer. You kiss your daddy slowly, losing yourself to the touch.

"D'you want something baby?" There are big hands on your hips, stalling every movement as you try and fail to search for friction.

"Blue!" He's laughing now, peppering kisses across your pouting face as you fight to eke some pleasure out for yourself. But no matter what you do, you don't move.

"What're you searching for, huh, baby?" You growl as a result, stilling your hips as you suck kisses down his throat. You relish in the moans pouring out of Daddy's throat, brattily ignoring the teasing path of his hands across your lower stomach and breasts.

It's the sharp sting of a hand on your ass that has you squeaking and your mouth parting from the hickey you'd been leaving on Daddy's neck.

"Oh, baby. Did that sting?" As Daddy's big hands rub over your aching ass, you arch your back and try to nuzzle closer. But all that does is bring your bare skin closer to his mouth. The first wet press of his tongue to your peaked nipples has you moaning. You're so occupied by the dual sensations of the hands kneading your ass and the wet insistent suction of Daddy's mouth on your tits that you barely notice the pinching insistent pressure as Daddy's dick presses into you.

When Daddy finally bottoms out, you're already a drooling mess. This sugar baby arrangement is the best decision you've ever made. Daddy's a million times better than your first fumbling sexual experience in your prom date's pickup. His thick hard length in you has your pussy fluttering and already has you on the edge of an orgasm. When you're tipped onto your back in the sheets and Daddy starts to move, you're completely at his mercy.

Each thrust has you taking Daddy from root to tip. The entire room is filled with the lewd slapping of sweat-slippery skin against skin. Your breaths are punched out gasps as Daddy draws your legs up to his shoulders, holding them securely against his chest with one thick forearm as the other presses insistently against your engorged clit. Each brush of his calloused fingers coats them in your wetness and tips you even further towards your orgasm. You're babbling, hardly able to keep eye contact with the piercing, intent gaze Daddy's leveling on your sweat slicked skin. You cum with a scream, back arching off the bed.

"Aww, Blue, baby. Look at you! Fucked dumb on Daddy's thick hard cock." Daddy sets your legs back down as he pulls out of you and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest.

"You're going to be good, right Baby?" You're grinding your ass back against Daddy's ass unconsciously even as Daddy wraps a hand around your throat. You love having Daddy all over you like this. Even though you just came, you can't help wanting more. He uses the extra leverage to kiss your slack mouth until a thread of saliva stretches between your mouths.

"Daddy's gonna fuck your wet little pussy just like this with a hand around this little throat until you gush for me." His voice slows to a hiss as he teasingly runs his finger through your sensitive folds. "And you, baby. You're going to tell your daddy exactly how good he feels in that pretty little pussy."

You're nodding frantically, but that's not enough for Daddy. He smacks your pussy, tapping it until you're writhing against the steel hold he's got around your waist.

"Y-yes, Daddy! Yes! I can do that!" Your voice is a high pitched keen as you sob your relief at having Daddy buried inside you again.

He starts off slow, keeping the pace teasing as he pulls out of you until just the tip is sheathed and burying himself in you over and over again. Your hands are grasping onto his arms with all your strength, as you let Daddy chase his pleasure in you. His hand is firm against your throat, the pressure making you lightheaded and the sensations setting your blood aflame. With each slap of his hips against your ass you're telling him how good he feels. He's so big and thick you can't help it.

"Blue, baby." Daddy's voice is a purring growl which has your pussy dripping even wetter as your third orgasm builds. This one is going to be even harder than the last one. His hands pinch and tug at the heavy swell of your tits as they bounce with each thrust. "Cum for me, pretty baby. C'mon. You can do it. Cum for daddy."

"Yes, Daddy. Right there! M'so close. Wanna cum on your cock. Please. Please. Please. Please." You're still babbling for permission when Daddy's hands slide down to your clit and massage on the bud in time with his thrusts. When you come, it feels like you've been struck by lightning. You see stars behind your eyes as your orgasm builds and crests, seeming to never end. You vacantly feel Daddy empty himself in your sopping cunt, but that's it.

When you wake up, it's in the big bathtub in the master ensuite. There are hands carefully massaging shampoo into your hair and the water is steaming in the quiet night air. There's a deep relaxation weighing your muscles and bones as you blink yourself awake.

"Hey, Blue. How d'you feel?" It's Dadd- no, Jake, who's making you feel good.

"I feel so good, Jake." You kiss his wrist before turning so you can kiss him. He hefts you into his arms, not caring in the slightest that you're dripping soap and water all over his floor.

"You're back up, huh, baby?" At your nod, he kisses you before continuing. "I know you told me you've never been so far down before. And it definitely wasn't discussed. Was that okay, for you?" He sounds so worried as he sits on the tile with you dripping all over him.

"I'm perfect, Jakey. Perfect. It was everything I needed and more. If you liked it, I'd love to be your Baby Blue again?" You hope he'll agree. You love being Daddy's baby and brat.

"Absolutely, you can. But for the rest of tonight, how about we curl up on the sofa? I made some pasta and garlic bread." He grins at your nod before joining you in the tub again. This? You wouldn't give this up for anything in the world.

"Hey, Blue?" He sounds sated and sleepy.

"Yeah, Jake?" You cuddle closer to him and kiss his skin.

"Move in with me?" He sounds nervous. Like you’d reject him? After everything you’ve built a relationship with him? Not possible. You can’t believe what he’s asking you. You can’t even pretend to think about it. Your mouth runs away before your brain even processes the words screaming, "YES!" while you kiss him until he’s breathless again. This man? You’re going to keep him forever.

Taglist:

@desert-fern 🥰 @mayhemmanaged 🥰 @cassiemitchell 🥰 @thedroneranger 🥰 @cherrycola27 🥰 @roosterforme 🥰 @roostette 🥰 @dakotakazansky 🥰 @bobby-r2d2-floyd 🥰 @sarahsmi13s 🥰 @lovinglyeternal 🥰 @lovingbradshawafterdark 🥰 @mamaskillerqueen 🥰 @chaoticassidy 🥰 @genius2050 🥰

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#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun smut #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman imagine #hangman smut #reader insert #smut #Spotify

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trashlama · 1 year

Note

Yan future mikey with a chubby reader beimg all cute and shit and then the crazy kicks in (I beg you for some future boys contest-hope you're oki bye)

Hmmmm fluffy and crazy? I think I can work with this~

Instead of the usual future Yan turtles where they're usually depicted in the apocalyptic future. This one will take place in the fixed timeline future. Sorry I suck at explaining things.

This is basically a mix between a one-shot/drabble/headcanon

Like I started with Headcanons became drabble/one shot.

Sorry for being so late on this! Last week was hectic between work and my personal life.

I could've probably proofread it some more but, I didn't.

Ahhhh I hope you guys like this!

Cause personally I feel like I could've done better/more but, I suck. Anyways—

Warning! This is pretty fluffy. Seek your dentist for any fluff related cavities.

Enjoy!

I do not own this meme just found it on Pinterest and thought it was funny.

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Mikey is such a good boyfriend.

A spontaneous ball of dorky energy the box turtle was artistic both in and out of the kitchen. His kindness did not discriminate. Good or bad typically, if the youngest Hamato could help it he would rather make peace not war.

It was something you liked about the orange clad mutant. Especially since he didn't mind your self-proclaimed defects.

You love adult ninja turtle you really do. However regardless the little voice in the back of your mind continued to plant seeds of doubt.

Was Michaelangelo satisfied with you?

You hadn't tried to express it often— but you had your trepidations about sharing your insecurities with anyone, even your boyfriend. You didn't want to be annoying.

These fears were silly, you knew this. Mikey loves you. The mystic mutant recited all the time how beautiful you are. To him apparently despite your self criticism you were a devine work of art. Love handles, pouches, wings, fupas— he adored them all. You didn't need to wear a size nine to fit in his heart.

It didn't matter. For all the reasons that the box turtle gave you for why you were a perfect match for him. The insecurities still sat there. Like a sunken stone at the bottom of the lake. It sitting there always. Forever.

Regularly wondering if Michelangelo really did prefer a ugly pumpkin to a picture perfect apple. Had it been a ruse? Was he just playin' the role of a good partner? Sayin' and doin' what you're supposed to tell a person you want to be intimate with.

Lately these polluting thoughts began to resurface again. Reanimated by the recent onslaught of teasing from some dumb college kids that were enrolled at the same University as you. A group of well-known douche-bags that you avoided like the plague on campus; but unfortunately shared a physics class with. The dumbass brigade like vultures, waited for opportunities to feed their fragile masculinities. Receiving petty pleasure from belittling any flawed individuals that crossed their starving gazes. Ravishing in whatever responses they could elicite.

For the better part of the first semester of third-year physics you had somehow managed to go undetected by said frat squad. Camouflaged in fluffy sweaters and poofy joggers had aided you in being incognito for the first nine weeks but, now the weather was changing. Spring has finally come and has gifted you the middle finger. As temperatures fluctuated so did your wardrobe.

You hated the warmer months just for this reason.

The months of hiding your jiggling stretch marked shame behind winter attire has come to an end. Forcing your hand with high temps to make you wear thinner layers. Baggy jeans and big shirts were your new seasonal battle armor. Unlike your impenetrable winter suit, the spring set was far more vulnerable. The thinner layers and lack of long sleeves basically painted a bullseye on you that the frat group gladly shot at on a daily basis. In spite of your countless efforts to starve the scavengers; the group of boys still hurt you. Conceal don't feel, you certainly didn't let it show. Their poking fun at your voluptuous figure and big tits were nothing new. Nor the endless questioning of your innocence and intelligence. It was just another schoolyard taunt that you didn't bother with a response.

Until you did. Maybe not vocally but the show of your shaky figure fleeing the classroom gave the gaggle of boys all the satisfaction they'd desired as their mocking laughter chasing you out as you retreated out into the university's hallway. Fleeing the campus without a second thought.

The crude harassment is why you were here traversing The Big Apple's sewers. Thanking whatever gods were present for the low water pressure in the channel that ran beneath the soles of your sneakers.

You hated being feeling weak like this but, instinctively your legs drove you to the Mad Dog's Lair. Not bothering to properly shove all your crap into your school bag when you fled the classroom. Doubting that your shit will still be there tomorrow knowing today's luck. But you didn't care. Couldn't be bothered to deal with any more of the relentless bullying nor your professors' chosen path of nativity to the problem. You needed a break.

Entering the base every inhabiting soul was asleep. Evident by the various snores that you passed as you b-lined to Mikey's chambers.

Surprising the mystic mutant with your unannounced visit as he awoke to your shadowy plump figure climbing into his hammock. To the twenty-five year old's shame due to the fact that he had initially missed the salty streaks that drenched your supple (skin tone) cheeks. Immediately noticing your state once you were laying in his bed. The suspended mat's natural physics pressed you into his colorfully decorated plastron.

" ......Hun? Aww sweet babie what's got my muse spillin' tears for? " Mikey cooed muscular moss green appendages like snakes slithered around your waist. Entrapping you in his tired but, strong embrace. Pressing your soft figure into his firm one. Embarrassment heated your tear drenched cheeks as you returned the squeeze. Shaking your head 'no' as you just laid it against his shoulder.

He understood you just needed a moment.

For a minute outside the occasional sob or gasp for air, no words were spoken between the two. The calmness of the dimly orange lite room and your boyfriend's secure embrace provided the elements to allow you to relax. Tip-toeing on the line of slumber, had it not been for Mikey's quiet humming that at some point filled in the background noise to kept you grounded.

Once he had you calmed down, Michaelangelo tried to approach the subject again. He didn't want to reignite your pain but, the thought of someone/something making you cry like this was unforgivable. Whoever did this was gonna pay dearly for the precious tears that beaded your pained (e/c) gaze.

The last two weeks he suspected something was up. You had been absent from your guys' weekly hangout sessions. Despite the obviously differing schedules you and Mikey typically tried to meet at least four times a week. Even if sometimes the encounter was brief. However lately you haven't been attending. Stating over texts how you needed space to work some things out. That had the orange clad Hamato pulling at his imaginary strands with worry. Head lost in a tizzy as he had pooled over what could've driven you away. At first he feared it was him. Something must've come to light.

Did you find his little makeshift shrine for you?

Perhaps you came across his favorite box of tokens he scrounged up from around your apartment?

Or did you finally capture footage of his unannounced nightly visits?

Maybe one of his brothers found or saw something and told you something they shouldn't have?

The never ending list had the moss green box turtle biting his nails. Waiting at the edge of his seat for anticipated ball to drop.

Although he didn't want to thank Gram Gram for his luck when you came sniffling into his quarters. It hurt the mutant when you cried. He wasn't gonna lie the breath of relief upon your arrival. His muse wasn't trying to leave him. For a moment there the mystic mutant had been worried he was going to have to help you remember how much you needed your devoted follower.

"...(Y/n)?....Sweetie, what's wrong?" Mikey began sitting up a little tugging you along with him as he maneuvered the two of you in a more comfortable position. With your face resting against his shoulder, legs thrown over his lap so you were sitting in it in a lounging manner. The moss green box turtle's hold not once loosening from around your full figure. "....You knooow...my ears are always open to listen." The orange coded ninja turtle hummed. Unmasked the warm grey eyes of Michaelangelo's lovingly bore into your soul. Traveling through glossy (e/c) gateways as they searched within you for answers that you wouldn't speak.

Your bottom lip trembled as a new spout of tears ran down your flushed (skin tone) cheeks at his words. Easily hiding your face in the crook of the mutant's jugular. Taking a moment before answering. " I'm sorry for being a bother... I just had a bad day. " You answered quietly. Not necessarily eager to delve into the issue.

Aww his poor babie. However it wasn't the answer he was looking for. It looks like he's gonna have to go through them again. At least this time he was just looking not altering any of your memories. He needed to know what was wrong. He needed his divinity happy and if she wasn't happy— well Mikey wasn't happy.

Sporting his signature gapped tooth grin Mikey began the process.

First it began with focusing his energy. Preparing to start the spell.. It worked perfectly last time. It should be just as successful again. "Shhhh... It's okay babie..." The mutated Hamato hushed.

"..It's all good... I understand... you just need a little guidance...".

With your face hidden you neglected to notice his illuminated three digit grasp leaving your waist. "...let Dr. Delicate Touch help you~" the box turtle concluded as he pressed his glowing three digit right hand into the left side of your forehead. In an instant a bright shine of light blotched out your vision. Right before everything went black. Knocking you out before you could asset the situation.

To any onlooker what he was doing was wrong. An invasion of your privacy which he shouldn't be prying into. However the box turtle preferred to look at it from a more positive perspective.

He was helping you!

The mystic turtle knew you had a hard time expressing your feelings.

Although you didn't say it Michelangelo knew you had a hard time expressing feelings. A bad habit leftover from surviving your formative years. It's okay though. He'll help you.

To any onlooker would say what the youngest Hamato . What he was doing was wrong, inhumane but, Mikey preferred to look at it from a different less negative perspective. He was helping!

You just needed a little fixing. Then you'll be just like new again.

As he sorted through your most recent short term memories the orange color coded ninja turtle kept in mind he couldn't dabble with them too long. He was on a clock dictated by the amount of stamina he's able to input into a single spell. As of right now? Not too much. Especially if he wants to make quick work of whatever issue stood in between him and (y/n) time. The offense will not be tolerated by whomever the perpetrator.

Shifting through the chains that connected the linear timeline in your mind Michaelangelo found the issue. A group of fraternity brats who didn't have any manners. Bastards thought they had the right to defame his muse? His very own David?(That's a reference to one of the renaissance artist's works).

They had to be dealt with.

Like a candle in the wind the group was snuffed out in a single night.

Upon the arrival of the new day you awoke to find yourself back at home in your dingy apartment with no exact clue of how you got back there.

In the faded ripples of your mind you tried to fill in the blanks of the how's and when's. When did you leave the lair? How did you make it back to your apartment? Especially when the last thing you recalled was sniffling in your boyfriend's arms. You must've fallen asleep and gotten up at some point and just don't remember.

Probably was just too tired to re-call anything.

Getting up from the warm sanctuary of your bed sheets you ambled around the apartment to begin your morning routine. Throwing together a bowl of cereal and a coke before scuttling into the living room. Placing your meager feast down onto the coffee table momentarily as you shuffled through your pockets to find your phone.

A few months ago you lost the remote to your tv and unfortunately as a broke ass college student making minimum wage you didn't have the funds to purchase a new TV remote. Instead like every other millennial you download the app. Cheaper than trying to get a new remote. Quicker too.

Tapping awake your screen delivered a mountain of notifications.

Inside the group chat that you were a part of for your physics class was blowing up. Investigating further just left you in shock. Swiping through the populating messages, you discovered the bullies who had been preying on you and your classmates were missing. Somehow all five of them were gone within a night without a single trace.

With the disappearance not being a full twenty-four hours yet the police wasn't taking the matter seriously. Claiming probably just some fraternity shit. Meanwhile the university's faculty wasted no time on morning the frats possie's passing. Sending their cookie-cutter condolences and offering their typical therapy sessions for anyone close to the victims.

What a waste. Although they were assholes they were young assholes who hadn't yet got the chance to live their lives. Make mistakes and learn from them. How unfortunate.

Backing out of the chat your phone buzzed with a new message from Mikey. The afro mentioned adult box turtle was inquiring about how you were doing today and if you wanted to hangout later? Your mutated boyfriend even going as far as decorating the message in emoji hearts and puppy dog stickers.

As of late you haven't been up for hanging out with the twenty-five year old orange clad Hamato. Mucky feelings and overwhelming thoughts clouded your head. Upon seeing the previously mentioned messages about the vultures in your life being gone you felt oddly relieved about their disappearance. Although revolted with your passive reaction you somehow is still able to keep it down. Every time you thought of Michaelangelo the negative feelings and bad memories would keep fading farther and father away.

It was like all it took was a night's rest (and some brain spring cleaning) and everything was back to normal. With a small smile you replied with "I'm doin' good" and "yes" on his invitation.

Next thing you knew it you were spiraling down a rabbit hole of back to back texting like it was the beginning of your guys relationship.

Back then when your best friend had ghosted you. Mikey had been there for you like this then too. Always so supportive. He really was such a good person.

Aren't you lucky that you have such a good boyfriend like Mikey?

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iam93percentstardust · 3 months

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i don't usually do these kinds of things, but today was a nightmare of a day, so here's a vent post (it's long, so i'll put it below the read more)

the cast:

gina: PI for my research lab, was one of the very first people to catch covid back before we even knew what covid was and immediately developed long covid, is currently in her 4th year of an incredibly nasty divorce, has been so unhelpful and not present as a mentor in the last 4 years that we would all just like her to take a sabbatical please

me (alle): 6th year senior graduate student, was supposed to graduate this summer but had a nervous breakdown in the spring and deferred a semester, senior TA for gina's super special chemistry and politics class which i will inevitably wind up taking over when gina's health takes the same nosedive it's taken every semester for the last 4 years but god forbid i get paid as a lecturer, has put more hours into gina's super special chemistry and politics class than gina has which keeps me too busy to actually do anything for my dissertation

mingyu: 6th year senior graduate student, the literal definition of stoic, has had the good fortune of receiving federal funding for his project so doesn't have to TA, was also supposed to graduate this summer but gina decided to take on a new student (mina) at the last minute that he just has to train so he had to defer a semester, is so busy training mina that he doesn't have time for his own research

tessa: 4th year senior graduate student, junior TA for gina's super special chemistry and politics class, also the only graduate student who works with undergrads in the lab (she manages 6 of them), also got voluntold by gina to mentor two high school students this summer, TA + undergrads + high schoolers = no time for research, used to mentor ahmad but she is competent and he is not and it didn't end well

ahmad: 3rd year graduate student, the most incompetent man you'll ever meet despite being 10 years older than everyone else in the group (save for gina), 95% positive he faked his credentials to get into grad school because this man does not know shit despite being here for three years, this man poured liquid nitrogen down the drain and nearly ruined the 100 year old pipes in this building, this man told tessa's undergrads to catch concentrated hydrochloric acid with their bare hands, this man does not understand the concept of playing well with others and putting other people first, if there's an interpersonal conflict in the lab it's because he started it

mina: technically 3rd year graduate student but decided to abruptly switch research groups because apparently there are no jobs in inorganic chemistry anymore so she needs a biochem group (we are not biochem) ((and she refused to change her project so her research is still inorganic chemistry so i'm not sure what good this is doing))

kiara and darya: technically 2nd year graduate students but did the same thing as mina, not super relevant but i'll mention their names at one point or another, the most recent people to join the group three months ago

the background:

a month ago, tessa was supposed to give group meeting. gina cancelled that group meeting however, just like she's cancelled all but a handful of our group meetings for the last four years (i think i can probably count on two hands the number of group meetings we've had since her arrest. maybe). this would usually mean that tessa would present at the next group meeting, but gina cancelled that one too. for whatever reason, tessa took that to mean that she wasn't supposed to be presenting at the one two weeks ago. gina got (rightfully) pissy at her when tessa said she didn't have anything to present and hadn't even brought her computer, so gina told her to do a "chalk talk" where she outlined her entire project on the board for the high schoolers and new grad students.

(side note: gina explicitly said that chalk talks were a perfectly acceptable form of group meeting if we have new students in the lab and are trying to introduce them to each project or if we're trying to give her a summary of how far we've gotten on our project.)

i was supposed to go next for group meeting (which would have been last week), so i prepared a standard presentation with mostly data, but then i learned that we had two new grad students interviewing with us and that one of the high schoolers is interested in my research field, so i switched at the last second to a chalk talk to break down this project.

but then we got to group meeting last week and three things happened: first of all, gina apparently asked tessa to prepare a presentation on professional communication in the lab after a huge blowup between tessa and ahmad over ahmad stealing tessa's enzymes for his own project and not replacing them. secondly, out of the seven people in the lab (not including the two high schoolers), the only people who showed up in person were the three senior grad students (myself, tessa, and mingyu) so none of the new people who would have benefitted from a chalk talk were there (doubly funny that it was put together with ahmad in mind and he decided to sleep in). which would have been fine, i would have just switched to the original powerpoint presentation, except thirdly, gina decided that she needed extra time before class to get into the right headspace (since group meeting is right before class) and it became really obvious really fast that despite tessa originally thinking her part would only take 10 minutes, gina wanted to talk about everything in excruciating detail for an hour.

(side note: when i mentioned i was originally planning a chalk talk, gina was not only explicitly fine with this, but interested in seeing how i would break my work down.)

this would've meant that i would go this week, but gina said, and i directly quote, "instead of giving group meeting, alle, come meet with me personally." so we met and she reiterated that my meeting with her was instead of group meeting.

the story:

gina being the world's worst mentor, this wouldn't be the first time that she's gone back on something she said, so i was still prepared to give group meeting this morning. that is, until saturday. on saturday, she texted everyone to say that she had caught the flu and wouldn't be on campus today. yesterday, she texted us all again to remind us that she had the flu. now, given the four years of history with gina, i expected that meant that she would text us all this morning to say she was cancelling group meeting, but just in case, i made sure to wake up early enough to make it to campus on time.

this morning rolls around and she still has the flu, but wonder of wonders, she did actually want to hold group meeting but she wanted it to be short and over zoom. okay, fine. in the past, the words "short group meeting" from gina has meant that she wants a 2 minute research update from everyone and then she'll spend 20-30 minutes talking about her life and her personal problems, and we might circle back around at the end to talk about some housekeeping things (which we could have today, since conference registration in the fall is coming up). so i thought "okay, i'm off the hook until next week."

so we sit down for the zoom meeting (miracle of miracles, the four people who decided to skip out on last week's meeting (ahmad, mina, kiara, and darya (the junior grad students, for anyone counting)) were actually there) and gina immediately starts things off with "who's presenting group meeting today?" and i thought "well shit." but it's fine, it's okay, it's a little frustrating because it's a lot harder to do a chalk talk over zoom so i need to do the presentation, which is definitely not short, but it's fine.

but before i can even pull up the powerpoint, someone said "it's alle's turn from last week" (given his inability to stop himself from brown nosing and starting shit, i suspect it was ahmad) and gina. went. off. apparently the fact that i didn't already have the powerpoint pulled up and wasn't prepared to start talking as soon as we sat down meant that i was completely wholly unprepared for the entire thing. so she goes "alle why didn't you say anything when i asked? what are you supposed to be presenting? why didn't you bother to pay attention to the schedule?"

and i tried to say that i didn't say anything because i was originally planning on a chalk talk and that sends her off too because apparently, in the last week, chalk talks have become completely unacceptable to give in this group and tessa only gave one because she didn't have a computer with her during the group meeting she was supposed to present at but that doesn't mean that i can do one too, so again, clearly i'm not prepared.

this time i actually managed to get a word in edgewise, so i said "i do have a powerpoint i've been working on in the last few weeks, i just don't have it pulled up yet." hell, i could've actually shared two, depending on how long she wanted me to talk: the data one, which would've taken about an hour, and the one from the conference at the end of may, which would've been a great project summary for the new people and only about 20 minutes.

(side note: gina's never actually seen my conference presentation because she cancelled all of my group meetings where i would have practiced and "rescheduled" personal meetings i was supposed to have with her only to not go to them and didn't bother to show up to my actual talk, which i was terrified about given the aforementioned nervous breakdown.)

i was actively in the process of pulling it up, but before i can share my screen, she snaps no, once again, i've just proven that i'm unprepared and why is it always the senior grad students in this lab who are so unprepared (this is literally the first time i've ever, in seven years, been expected to present at group meeting and not been ready for it, and the sole reason i wasn't ready was because gina herself said she was sick and needed a short meeting) and why does no one in this lab (especially the senior grad students, according to her) take group meeting seriously (again, i can count on two hands the number of times we've had group meeting in four fucking years and more to the point, ahmad keeps skipping group meeting because he decides he didn't get enough sleep to go even when he's not presenting, but sure gina, the senior grad students are the ones not taking this seriously (also, remember who was present at last week's meeting and who skipped?)).

so then she goes off on mingyu because apparently the group meeting calendar that he put together isn't up to her standards. and not only does he need to do it all over again, but he needs to print it out and put it in the lab somewhere so that people stop being unprepared, even though that won't do any good given the number of times gina cancels (and the reason no one has been prepared is because she keeps cancelling and we lose track of who's supposed to present when when it's been two months since the last one, AND I WASN'T READY BECAUSE SHE SAID WAS SICK AND WANTED A SHORT MEETING).

and then she decided that we aren't having group meeting next week because she has jury duty and despite calling the courthouse, they're not letting her skip out on it (which, gina, what? no one ever gets out of jury duty by calling, that's not how jury duty in this city works). but when we have the next group meeting, tessa needs to go again to present the data from two weeks ago that she didn't present and then i need to go and, oh yeah, mina needs to go by the end of july because she has a conference and needs to practice (remember when gina cancelled all of my practices and talks with her before my conference presentation? lol yeah me too).

(side note: it has been a year and a half since ahmad last presented at group meeting, it's been a year since mina last presented, and kiara and darya have never presented despite being here for three months. every time gina resets group meeting, it's always me, tessa, or mingyu having to present.)

and then after 20 minutes of yelling at us, after all of that and making it clear that being unprepared for group meeting was unacceptable and the senior grad students were embarrassing her... gina decided she was too sick to continue with group meeting and told us all to go.

#alle vs grad school #and on top of all of that she was too sick to teach class today so guess who had to do it

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greensagephase · 5 months

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Alondra!!! It’s been forever since I’ve been on here and first I want to say that I’m sorry for disappearing so suddenly. So much has happened after spring break that I never really made free time out of school and work, and finding jobs after I graduate too (I think I was burnt out but I didn’t want to accept it tbh 😭). But know that I haven’t forgot about you, or Nonviolent Communication, or Tumblr in general!!! I’ve practically written a whole essay’s worth about NC part 13 😭 but I haven’t had the chance to revise what I wrote, also I think I wrote way too much (no seriously, I upgraded to writing on a word doc just for this!) I feel awful not posting or writing anything this past month, but school is almost done and I’ll be graduating May 9th! I really hope you’re doing well, friend ❤️ I know I’ve missed so much since not being on here so I have a lot of catching up to do, but how are you doing? Take care, and I hope to write more soon when I have the chance and finally share my thoughts on part 13!!! ✨

@sunsetdoodler !!!! IT'S SO GREAT TO HEAR FROM YOU, FRIEND!!! 🥹Please don't apologize for focusing on your school and work!! I totally understand how stressful the last semester of college is and how difficult it is to find free time with so much going on, so it'd be totally understandable to feel burnt out (I totally was and refused to accept it until it affected my health😭 - I hope you've been well health wise despite all the stress!! 🥺) Also, don't worry!! I know you've been very busy, so I didn't once think you forgot about us here on Tumblr or Nonviolent Communication!! Please continue to focus on your schooling and work, and in finding some relaxation time!! You deserve it!!!! As to your thoughts on part 13 - I CAN'T WAIT TO READ IT!!!! You know I love, love, love reading your responses, so I'll read an essay's length response any day (but also the fact you upgraded to a word doc???!! I just know this is gonna be one of my top favorite responses of yours to read so far!! I have an idea of which parts will be highlights in your response 🤭 And also, I'm probably going to write just as much 😭🤣 so be prepared!!)!!! @sunsetdoodler please don't feel bad!! I'm just so so happy and proud of you!!! You're almost at the finish line with just a few weeks left and then GRADUATION!!!! 🥳🥳🥳 May 9th is almost here, friend!!! Just have to get through finals, and you'll be all done with your bachelor's 🥺 I've been thinking about you and wishing you the best of luck and positive vibes your way as you finish the semester!!! I'm rooting for you as always and I'm seriously so proud of you!!! You got this!!!! Also, I've been doing well for the most part (had a few off days but all is good now!!)!!! I really hope you've been well, too, despite everything and that you find time to just catch your breath!!! ❤️ As you finish your semester, please take care and remember to be kind to yourself, friend!!! I truly hope to hear from you again soon!!!! ✨❤️

#it really is so great to hear from you again!!! 🥹#I hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself mentally!!#sending you the best of luck and vibes your way!!!#also - hoping to hear whether you do add Miguel's polaroids to your graduation cap!! It was such a cute idea!!#but either way- take care friend!!! ❤️#asked and answered

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swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual · 8 months

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wait PLEASE tell us the professor firing story im so curious

Oh man. I’d like to preface this as something I’m not… one hundred percent proud of. Or at least, not something I brag about. I’m not sad or upset that I did it, and not sure if I’d have changed anything had I the chance. The man did deserve it. But here’s the entirely too long story.

(If you see typos or other weirdness, no you don’t.)

Imagine this—it’s 2018, it’s almost your last semester of community college. It’s spring semester, it’s cold, and you just got told that for the first time, your psychology class is NOT going to be under your favorite professor (not because he quit, he just didn’t teach this one). So, you’ve already had a full day of classes. It’s your last class of the day, it’s around noon to early afternoon, and you’ve actually had lectures in this classroom before.

You go in. Some chatting students, you choose a seat in the second row, kind of far from the door but those were already taken. Time passes.

Then suddenly, dread. That gut feeling that you absolutely should leave, right now, no matter what.

A man has just walked in.

We’ll call him Stanley, because that was his fucking name, Stanley…. Hawk. I’m not protecting his name because I care, but to keep myself and my classmates more anonymous.

That was my honest to goodness first reaction to this man. We had never met. And all I could think was “PLEASE tell me this isn’t the professor”.

He was, in fact, the social psychology professor.

From the first class, there are a number of red flags. He locks the door, ‘for safety’, despite that door actually being quite close to an exit-only door. He insists we MUST email him if we are to miss class—not in an ‘inform him’ way, by how he phrased it. If he could have said that we required his permission, he would have, and he was just short of that statement. He’s kinda weird about letting us out for bathroom breaks too. And he just seems… off. And the way he wants us to contact him is NOT through email. No, he hands us business cards and asks us to CALL HIM. Anyone who has had a college class will tell you—that’s EXTREMELY fucking weird.

Still, we power through. Because maybe the gut instinct was wrong, maybe he’s just strict.

AHAHAHAHA.

No.

Throughout the months I had him, he:

-Repeated the same lessons multiple times (don’t talk to me about the prison experiment I will SCREAM).

-Mostly call on one particular non-white guy

-Not ever get this one woman’s name right, probably because she was South American. Her name wasn’t hard, it was like- Marianna, and he’d like, call her Mary-Anne or other mispronunciations

-Get MY name right despite it being more difficult, though it still took him a few times. Either cause I’m White American or because my sister worked front desk, I’m not sure

-Mispronounced most of the women’s names at least once, even easy ones—he did not do this with any of the men

-(To my knowledge, the only genderqueer person was me, and I wasn’t public about it, and CERTAINLY wasn’t telling HIM that)

-Otherwise would talk wrestling with one guy who sat behind me. During class.

-Often went on tangents unrelated to the topic

-Claimed that he would take all the confederate statues and have them in his yard, proudly. He mentioned this at LEAST three times.

-Always mentioned that some of his grandkids were adopted Asian kids but was like… weird about it, genuinely not sure how to describe it

-Once went on an entire, unprompted safety lecture, saying to “you girls” (again, college, ‘girls’ isn’t the exact term I’d use) that we should make sure to immediately lock our car doors because we always “spend time getting all settled in when you drive, with your phones and purses and makeup”. He did not say the same to the “boys”, and also—I felt more unsafe that HE’D do something than anyone else

-Semi-often bemoaned the fact he couldn’t just hug students because of policy, that he couldn’t touch them even as a friendly pat on the shoulder because they might go to the college board. No, I’m not kidding. He actually said this sort of thing. I WONDER WHY THE STUDENTS DON’T WANT YOU TOUCHING THEM.

One of the worst incidents, he mishandled our test times, saying it was due at 12 midnight (online testing). I go to do it at about 2 pm… it’s closed. It’s Friday. I email him multiple times. I had to email the DEAN OF THE DEPARTMENT to get him to even answer. Said he ‘messed up’ and that it accidentally was put at 12 noon. He then tried to blame me alone, except no—another student (we’ll say… Alexis) ALSO had the same issue. He then said next time to call him. I don’t think I said anything, but I always did assignments before 12 noon so that there would not be a ‘next time’.

Then, one day, he had us list out twenty traits. Or like, things we like to do. Something to that effect. It was personal, is the main thing.

And then share that with the class.

It felt extremely elementary, we were almost through with the school semester, and I had learned nothing. I didn’t like this teacher, he kept fumbling, and that gut feeling just kept coming back. The anxiety I felt every time he locked the door.

And I remembered a post going around, about how we are not obligated to share things we don’t want to, especially in a classroom.

So, as I take my turn, I list out some generic things about likes and dislikes.

And I say something to the tune of, “I don’t like sharing with an entire class of almost strangers about myself when I don’t even know them.”

Several people start to talk in agreement, but I just keep reading my other statements. Because no, now is not the time. We have PLANNING to do.

Sure enough, I get two main allies from this. One Alexis, who was the student that also didn’t take the test. Another is a student who had been challenging him the entire semester- we’ll call her Sarah. She’d unlock the door pretty much any time Stephen Fucking Hawk wasn’t paying attention. Sarah is the one who approached me, so while I may have been a bit of a… not quite figurehead of this because of my earlier stunt(s), Sarah is the real mastermind here.

That said, I’m not sure if we’d have come together as such had I not done that little stand up for myself in class. A stand up that was inspired by a TUMBLR POST. Like, directly inspired. Before that point, I had thought that there’s no WAY this happens, that professors expect an airing of grievances in class, to virtual strangers. Jokes on me, but continuing on.

Sarah and I start airing our grievances, and we realize we’re actually in the same sociology class as well as being in the same social psychology class (yes, I got them confused, no, I never fully got UNconfused, because while Mrs. H was a fairly good sociology teacher, Stanley Fucking Hawk was not a good social psychology teacher). We decide—next class period, after the lesson was done. we’ll talk to her. Alexis isn’t in the class, but she promises to come in straight after her other class to help.

Poor Mrs. H looked so overwhelmed.

Especially when people we hadn’t EVEN MET started chiming in about stuff we didn’t even know about. Apparently, he talked about sex things in class before? Anyways.

She promised to talk with some of the higher ups. We continued on. We had like, other priorities.

About a few days later, Stephen Fucking Hawk is called to a meeting with the Dean. I know this, because he appeared briefly to give us a worksheet to work on for half an hour until he got back. Again, ask any college student—it’s weird that this was done during class time. Or that class wasn’t called off for the day.

I decided, yeah, fuck this, do the ten billionth really dumb worksheet for this prof (also a repeat, I think, which was not a new thing with him), and in half an hour I’m leaving. My baby niece was just born. Also, no, I was not emailing him for permission. This was not a job, he was not my boss, and I’d had enough of him. Not like he checked them ANYWAYS, as proven before.

He returned, a bit late and a little frazzled. I go to turn in my worksheet and leave.

He tried to stop me, trying to cite his little attendance policy. I honest to goodness think he’d have grabbed my wrist had he been allowed, or possibly if I hadn’t dodged.

I DO remember snapping at him that I WAS leaving, I’m ALLOWED to make that choice, and I was GOING to go see my niece.

I was also in martial arts at the time. So there’s a good chance he recognized that I could and WOULD sock him in the face if he tried something.

I left. He never looked at me for long ever again. Not that he usually did—chronic bitch face worked WONDERS, and I’m understanding why so many people, women in particular, might have gotten this trait.

After that, things are… average. There was still a few weeks, about a month, left still. We figure that if anything did happen, it’ll be after exams. That’s fine. So long as something is done. Naturally, we’re kept in the dark.

Then we get our course and professor evals. Basically, papers we were given in class to grade the class and the professor, with a small section at the end to write out any additional comments. You could add more paper to that section if you wanted to.

These were normal and mandatory in this college.

Y’all. People BROUGHT extra paper to class. I’m pretty sure Sarah wrote out five pages alone. Keep in mind, getting the usual comment section filled out at ALL was either optional or rarely exceeded the small space.

I think I only used one or two extra sheets, I DO recall filling a page both front and back. But keep in mind—I have somewhat small handwriting.

I savor the panic on that man’s eyes as he saw that people just. Kept. Writing. An exercise that usually took ten minutes and was technically anonymous (students had to handle the paperwork, both giving it out, taking them back, and turning it in at the front desk) took at least twice that.

Anyways, the next couple of classes were… well. Subdued on his end. Less tangents. He’s still not a good teacher, but none of use are actually paying attention.

We then get the news—he isn’t returning next semester.

There wasn’t a cheer, but Sarah and Alexis and a few other people in the class Share Looks. He doesn’t mention why, but We Knew.

Fun bonus fact about my college—like most schools, there’s a set amount of days per class you can miss without a cause, about two weeks. Since many exams were online, the popular trend—and professors knew and adjusted to this—was that students who hadn’t missed their earlier days would just not be in class the last couple of weeks. They’d show up to an in-person exam, if needed, but those last couple of weeks were usually exam prep and damn near an option for most classes.

I had to go to one class of his during the two week period because I missed a day, and half of everyone was gone.

After that day, I did not return to that class.

I got an A in that class despite knowing JACK about social psychology, and Stephen Fucking Hawk was gone from the staff directory from them on.

And that’s how a tumblr post helped me get a man fired, kind of.

#the professor story #ask me anything #I feel like I’ve told bits of this story before but ayyy it’s fine #I honestly probably forgot more of the bullshit this man pulled #I remember consciously choosing to wear very baggy and nonrevealing clothes #which. I mean my style wasn’t very revealing either #but I actively avoided dresses and skirts and anything that defined a waistline or my chest

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strawberryicebreakers · 1 year

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Hello, sorry to bother you but I'm a bit curious about the UHF fanfic you mentioned a while ago. Has it been updated since?

I haven't gotten around to it just yet; I got bit by the ted lasso bug, blinked, and now I'm nearly 40k into a fic with no signs of switching over to a different WIP :(

that being said, it is incredibly nice to see that people want to read my writing :') I do, eventually, want to finish the fic, but with the current WIP I'm working on and the semester starting up [yay college!], it doesn't look like I'll get to finish it anytime soon.

as a condolences/sneak peak, I'll put what I've got so far under the cut. it's about 7.1k, and it is a very, very rough draft, but again, I'm very thankful for the kind words I've gotten from people concerning the fic and want to show it! if you have any questions, feel free to hit me with them :)

Three months in, and Robert still couldn’t believe the station hadn’t crashed and burned. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust George, or Pamela, for that matter, but it seemed too good to be true. It made no sense to him that the same universe that let him flunk out of college and lose every minimum-wage job he’d ever held was the same universe that gave him a television station and said “hey, go nuts!”

It made no sense, but in all honesty, nothing in his life seemed to make that much sense to him these days. Just the other day, he’d had a group of teenagers break into the building in the middle of the night, probably trying to find a place to smoke, and got chased out by some robotic behemoth Philo’d built in the back of his station control room-turned-laboratory, all while having not told anyone he’d come back to begin with. He’d come in the next morning to see the door off the hinges and a hunk of metal with a wagging tail getting behind-the-ear scratches from Pamela.

Pamela, who was slowly becoming another tally in favor of his life turning upside down.

Ever since the night Channel 8 went off the air, she’d started paying attention to him, and it was beginning to concern him. Before, she’d said “good morning” and “good night,” or even the occasional question about any plans he might have, but over the past weeks, she’d turned her charm on to the highest setting possible. Despite the weather turning cold, her skirts grew shorter, her heels taller, and she’d started lingering by his desk for much longer than it took to ask him where the Rolodex went.

Privately, he’d thought that was more of a question for Stanley, not him, but he didn’t want to embarrass her by pointing it out.

All in all, though, he knew he’d have to mention it at some point, if only to soothe his own conscience. The last thing he needed was to find her doodling hearts and “Mrs. Pamela Steckler” in her broadcast notes.

He glanced up at the clock and saw that all of a single hour had passed since he’d arrived. He’d started coming in early, around eight in the morning, to make sure the morning rerun segments ran smoothly; if it had the added benefit of getting an hour to himself before anyone else showed up, well, he wasn’t complaining.

The scrape of the door on the tile floor that pulled him out of his reverie told him that someone else had arrived, and the click of a heel announced who it was.

“Good morning!”

“Hey, Pamela,” he called out. “Any trouble with the drive?”

“Nah,” she said, pulling her coat off and hanging it on the rack. “Just some awful fog. I could barely see the street!”

Through the lattice, Robert watched her rifle through her desk drawers, pulling out a few pens and her notepad. At his desk, he did the same, and began to look through the show proposals for the spring schedule; not reading them, just counting the envelopes. “Anything interesting to cover today?”

“The uzhe,” she said. “The shelter’s doing a PSA for families looking to adopt a pet for Christmas and I get to go down and get fur all over my legs.”

“Look on the bright side, Pam,” he said. “You get to play with puppies, and George and I are stuck down here, puppy-less. You have to admit, one seems a lot more fun than the other.”

She turned, swiveling her chair over to look at him through the lattice. “You saying you want to come down with me, Bobby?”

“No,” he said, a bit too quick to be polite. “No, I -, uh, I’ve got to stay up here. Keep everything in line, you know?” He held up the papers to her with a shrug. “You really think George wants to read these?”

He sent a quick prayer up, hoping she hadn’t seen George all but club him over the head the other night when he’d mentioned splitting the proposals in half and reading them separately. Reading what the people of Tulsa wanted to see on the TV was half the alleged fun of the job, and reading them together, laughing about it, made it borderline bearable.

She stood, walking over to his desk and perching on the edge. “Come on,” she said, smiling. “It’s me, you, and a bunch of cute little animals. What’s not to love?”

“I said no, Pamela.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “You’d really rather be here?”

“I really would rather be here,” he said. “I can’t ditch work to hang out with you.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Pamela looked down at him, smiling.

“What?”

“I mean,” she said, curling a lock of hair ‘round her finger, “if work’s the problem, we could always hang outside of work hours. Grab dinner, maybe a movie?”

“I -”

“I think Back to the Future two’s playing at the theater near my place. You ever see the first one? I always thought the guy who played Marty, the Fox guy, was pretty funny. He’s on Family Ties, too, and -”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just -,” he sighed. “I just can’t.”

She pushed herself off his desk, and he saw her face begin to flush. “I don’t get it,” she said. “I mean, I’ve got a job, I’m nice, and frankly, I’m not too bad to look at, so what’s your deal?”

“Well, I’m your boss, Pamela,” he said. “Pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“Fine,” she said. “If you weren’t my boss, would you date me?”

“No, but -”

“You got a girlfriend?”

“No -”

“Then what gives?” She slunk down into George’s chair with a groan, threading her hand through her hair. “I mean, is it my voice? My makeup? Shit, do I wear too much makeup?”

“You’re beautiful,” Robert said. “And your voice is fine, Pam. We wouldn’t put you on the air if it wasn’t.”

She huffed. “If it’s none of that, then what is it?”

“He’s gay, Pamela.”

They both jumped, nearly falling out of their chairs.

“Fuck, Philo,” Robert cursed, “how long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” Philo mused. He hummed while he worked, some odd little tune Robert couldn’t place while sticking a screwdriver into what looked like three batteries taped to a piece of glass. “And Pamela has an uncle like you, Robert. She wouldn’t have been rude about it, had you told her yourself.”

“How do you know about my uncle?” Pamela asked. “I haven’t said anything about him to you, or anyone here.” She turned, looking back at him. “He’s right, though.”

“Philo, you can’t say stuff like that,” Robert wheezed. He felt his heart racing under his shirt as if he’d run from one end of the station to the next, and tried to get himself to calm down.

For what it was worth, the older man looked genuinely confused. “I can’t?”

“No, you can’t,” he said. “Some people wouldn’t take that information very well.”

He considered it for a minute, then nodded. “My apologies, Robert.”

“Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“You have my word.” He pressed a hand to the right side of his lab coat, and gave a slight bow. With that, Philo walked away, returning to the back of the station to do god knows what, and left Robert alone with Pamela, who stared straight at him.

He knew she’d have questions; hell, he still had questions, sometimes, and it would be better to get the awkward part over with. “Whatever it is you’re trying to figure out how to ask, just ask it.”

“If you liked girls, would you like me?”

“For God’s sake, Pam.”

She giggled. “I’m sorry, I had to ask!”

“If I wake up tomorrow wanting to date a woman,” Robert said, smiling despite himself, “you’re the first on my list.”

“Yes!” She pumped a fist in the air. “I knew it!”

“Any man would be lucky to have you,” he said. “You could choose any man you’d ever met, and chances are, they’d treat you like a princess.” He picked up the papers that had fallen from his hand when Philo’d appeared. “Not me, though. Maybe not Stanley, either.”

“You think he’s gay?”

“No,” he said, unfolding the first proposal. “I just think you can do better.”

She stayed with him until other employees began to trickle in, and by half past noon, they nearly had a full house. They were still missing George and a few others, but he wasn’t too worried; he’d heard George come in late the night before, and figured he probably wouldn’t drag himself into the station until the last minute. Cameras wouldn’t go live until they started filming some of the upcoming week’s segments at two, but it was nice to hear people moving out and about, typing out a new script or whatever it was they got paid to do. They’d hired an entire new rotation of employees, a good chunk of which were people who wanted to see their shares in the station put to good use, and they had an entire team of high schoolers acting as interns, doing side work for some sort of class credit. Technically, he and George were supposed to give them assignments, grade them, the whole nine years, but if he was being honest with himself, unless one of the kids managed to break something that actually mattered, he’d give them all A’s and call it a day.

Life’s hard enough without some asshole in a tie trying to make it worse, he thought, watching one of them follow Stanley around as he mopped.

Everything had grown to become so much more professional since they’d started revamping the station; between the new employees, broadcasting gear, and business cards that said “Robert” instead of “Bob,” he finally began to feel like an adult.

The phone at the front of the office gave out a short, shrill ring, and Pamela answered. After a moment, she held the receiver away from her mouth. “It’s for you, Bob!”

“Coming,” he said, halfway out of his desk already. There were only two types of calls they got: serious calls that required either him or George, and Pamela’s social calls from friends who realized that, unless she was on their television, she was available to talk.

He lifted the receiver to his ear. “Robert Steckler, Channel 62.”

“I’m in hell, Bob.”

“George?”

Next to him, Pamela gave up any attempt she’d made at trying to look disinterested.

“Hell, Bob.” George repeated. He spoke slowly, as if he had to pull the words out of himself to say them loud enough to hear through the phone. “I’m in it.”

“What’s wrong?”

This time, Robert couldn’t hear the mumbled mess that came out of the speaker.

“What?”

“My glasses broke.” George sighed, loud enough to be heard over the speaker, and despite the situation, Robert fought back a grin at the dramatics.

“How’d that happen?”

“I didn’t put them in the drawer last night when I came in. Knocked them off the nightstand when I got out of bed since I didn’t remember they were there, and the second I put my foot down -”

Robert winced. “Crunch?”

“Crunch,” George echoed. “I just got off the phone with Visionworks. They’re doing a rush order for me ‘cause I might’ve mentioned I needed them for station work -”

“George -”

“which isn’t technically wrong, y’know, and they said the earliest they’d be in is Friday, so until then, I’m out of commission for anything that requires me behind the wheel of a car.”

“Got it,” he said. “I’ll be there in ten or so. You need me to help you down the stairs?”

A quiet chuckle came through the speaker. “I’m not your Grandma Ruth.”

“Yeah, but you’re both bordering on legally blind,” he replied, teasing, “so what’s the difference, really?”

“Just for that, I’m throwing myself down the stairs. Have fun running U-62 on your own, Bob.”

“I will,” he said, and hung up the phone. He reached over, grabbing his coat out from underneath Pamerla’s and sliding it on. “I’ll be back in about half an hour,” he said, looking at her. “Try not to let the power get to your head.”

“You’ll come back, and they’ll be feeding me grapes,” she said. She lifted her legs, crossing them at the ankles atop her desk and leaning back like a queen on her throne. “His glasses broke?”

“Shattered, from what he told me.”

Pamela clicked her tongue. “Damn,” she said. “No spares?”

“Nah, neither of us have that kind of cash.”

“Well,” she said, flicking through the Rolodex, “at least we know his address.”

“Of course I know his address,” Robert said, feeling through his pockets for his keys. “We live together, Pam.” He found the keys, kept on an old keychain his dad had given him when he first came back to Tulsa.

Behind him, Pamela gasped. “Oh,” she said, eyes wide. “Oh, I get it now!”

He whipped around, hands up in alarm. “Not like that!”

“He’s not -,” she asked, then stopped herself. “You two aren’t -?”

“I don’t think,” he said, lowering his voice, “that George knows that being gay is an option, much less, well.” He waved a hand at himself. “So please, Pam, don’t mention it in front of him.”

She mimed zipping her lips shut, throwing an invisible key in the small garbage can by her feet. “My lips are sealed.”

The fog had grown stronger during the hours he’d spent in the station, and Robert quickly learned that Pamela wasn’t lying when she’d said that visibility was zero to none. His car was barely more than a lump of blue-gray, even though he’d parked in the closest line of spots to the building that morning.

At least the roads were clear. The last of the lunch rush was still trickling back to their places of employment, but overall, the drive back home wasn’t too painful. He’d grown up around this type of weather in the winter, the days where you couldn’t see more than two feet in front of you followed by enough snow or ice to make it a hazard to anyone who didn’t know to look at the road when driving. Every year, car accidents littered the roads from December to mid-March, all because barely half of the town’s driving population consisted of Tulsa natives, and the other half was a combination of out-of-towners, the elderly, and teenagers that got their license that year.

The very first winter they’d lived together, he’d had to go rescue George from a ditch eight miles from the apartment at ten o’clock at night; he’d tried driving home from his girlfriend’s house and lost control when his wheel hit the ice. It was the same winter where the heat went out, and George’s uncle Harvey managed to save their asses both times. He’d paid for the repairs on the car, and “had a guy” who came out to fix the heating, not just for their apartment, but for the whole building, at no cost.

They’d met Kuni about a week later when he’d come by to give his thanks after he’d realized that the landlord hadn’t been the one to fix the heating, and he’d brought a Tupperware full of something his wife had made for them. Robert still didn’t know what it was; it’d been strawberries covered in some sort of soft, chewy coating that neither he nor George recognized. Whatever it was, though, was incredibly good, and after trying it, they had to count the individual pieces and divide them in half in order to make sure it was a fair split.

Whenever Kuni had a particularly loud class or a student who decided to try their luck punching through their walls, he brought the same dish over. It was partially apologetic, but mainly a “thank you for not reporting me to the landlord”-type gift, and with Harvey Bilchik’s various connections able to fix anything for free, neither young man ever even considered actually going legal with the various property damages they’d collected over the past four years.

He parallel parked in his spot on the street, leaving the key in the ignition to keep the car warm while he was gone as he left the car. He took the stairs two at a time, reaching the door quickly and opening it, knowing George would’ve left it unlocked.

At first glance, the apartment seemed empty. Both bedroom doors were shut, as was the bathroom, and the main room showed no signs of life. He stood still, not even breathing, and felt a small, irrational fear that someone had broken in and kidnapped his roommate creep into the back of his mind.

A small sigh coming from the couch gave him his second near-heart attack of the day.

Nearly camouflaged against the cushions sat George, hunched over with his head in his hands. If he’d worn anything else, he would’ve been visible, but the combination of the brown curls and light blue suit jacket made him a chameleon in their home.

The sheer unhappiness that radiated from his friend, combined with the MAD poster above his head reading “what - me worry?” made him have to fight back a laugh. “You ready to head out?”

On the couch, George sighed, purposefully loud, and lifted his head. He stared forwards as he spoke, not even turning to face Robert. “I think you might actually need to help me down the stairs.”

Robert could count on one hand the amount of times he’d seen George without his glasses throughout the four and a half years he’d known him. He put them on first thing in the morning, and taking them off was the last thing he did before bed. Hell, he’s pretty sure he’s seen him leave the bathroom after a shower with them fogged up. The few times he’d seen him sans glasses were always temporary; despite the fact that he was a man in his twenties, he kept his glasses safer than his car, wallet, and comics collection combined.

“That bad?”

George turned his head, lifting his bangs to reveal a bright red line going from his right eyebrow to his hairline. “I, uh, missed the bathroom door. Met the frame instead; turns out she’s a real mean lady.”

Curious, Robert lifted his hand in a Girl Scouts salute that would make his little sister proud. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

George glared at him. “You’re evil,” he said. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” Robert said, smiling. He held out his arm, palm facing the ceiling, the same way he’d always done for his grandma. “Come on, we’ve got about half an hour before the station burns down.”

“Fine,” George said. He reached out a hand, but instead of taking him by the elbow like Robert expected, took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “If you lead me off the stairs, I’m dragging you down with me.”

“Got it,” Robert replied, hoping his voice didn’t sound as strained as it felt when the words came out.

He could feel the other man’s pulse, a slow thrum, through his fingers as he led them out the front door and slowly to the stairs, with George clasping the railing with his free hand the entire way down. It seemed as though the weather had grown even colder while he’d been inside, making him all the more aware of how warm his hand was with another wrapped around it.

Logistically, he knew it wasn’t anything, but he was human, and it had been nearly three years since he’d been in a relationship, let alone held hands with someone. The weight of it was comforting; it was solid and steady, only verging onto tight once they’d made it to the bottom few steps.

Thankfully, they made it down without any event, and Robert led them to his car, stopping at the passenger door. “Your carriage, ma’am.”

“Oh, you’re such a polite young man,” George said, finally cracking a smile. “If I’d known you were here to help, I’d have brought a dollar with me to tip you!”

“I’m just glad to be here for you in such a trying time.”

George took his hand away, opening the door and sinking into the seat. Still in the cold outside, Robert wasted no time in making his way to the driver’s side and climbing inside. He looped his arm around the back of the passenger seat, checking the street for cars behind him before pulling out onto the main road.

They made it out to the highway before either of them spoke.

“Can you still do the Town Talk segment tonight?” Robert asked. “”Cause if you need me to, I can do it.”

“I can deal with it,” George said. “I know how much you hate being in front of the camera.”

“I hate being in front of the camera as Bob-o the Clown,” Robert corrected. “I’m fine being on air as Robert.”

George shifted in his seat, looking over at him, or at least looking in his direction. “You’re really sticking with Robert, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” Robert said, popping the ‘p.’ “Sounds more professional, which means the other channels take us seriously.” George snickered. “Only if they haven’t seen the shows we’ve greenlit.”

“Speaking of,” he said, turning onto the side road leading to the station, “we’ve got a new batch of proposals for spring. The people of Tulsa have spoken, and they want more insanity in the writer’s room.”

“Don’t tell me you read them without me.” George whined.

“I didn’t,” he said. “Just counted them. We’ve got about twenty, give or take.”

“And how many slots do we have open on the schedule for next spring?”

“Like, two.”

“Phenomenal.”

A little while later, they pulled into the station’s parking lot, and Robert was glad to see that no one had taken his spot while he’d been gone. He parked, taking the keys out of the ignition and slipping them into his pocket.

“You want my help again?” Robert asked.

“I think I’m good,” George said, “but thanks.”

“Alright,” he said, unconvinced. There were a few steps leading up to the door, and he didn’t want to see George eat concrete when he knew neither of them had dental insurance. They were still trying to get that all squared away, but the steps for registering a business with the various insurances wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, especially when neither of the bosses had ever had insurance to begin with.

They left the car, and Robert watched, wary, as George made his way to the front door, both hands splayed out in front of him. He followed close behind in case he managed to hit something and fall backwards, but to his pleasant surprise, neither of them hit the floor.

“Good afternoon, Stevie Wonder,” Pamela said, seeing them stumble through the door. “Had a nice drive?”

“If he’d driven, we’d be wrapped around a tree right now.”

“Very funny,” George said. He’d narrowed his eyes, but it wasn’t exactly clear if it was out of annoyance or if he was just squinting. “Make fun of the blind guy when he can’t see you well enough to punch back.”

“With your gangly limbs? Honey,” Pamela said, “I don’t think you’d manage to land a hit. Even if you could, you’re too sweet to hit a lady. It’s a mystery how no one’s snapped you up yet.”

He looked over at George, who stayed quiet, fiddling with the cuff of his suit jacket. “Someone has,” Robert said, perplexed at the silence. “His girlfriend, Teri Campbell. And before you ask,” he said, cutting Pamela off, “yes, like the soup.”

“Must’ve been born under a lucky star,” Pamela mused. “Rich girlfriend and a steady job at what, twenty-two?”

“Twenty-five,” Robert clarified, then paused. With the chaos of the first weeks at the station, he realized he’d never actually asked her, or anyone at the station, something as basic as an age. “Wait, how old are you?”

Pamela hummed, setting her pen down. “How old do you think I am?”

Robert laughed. “I’m not dumb enough to fall -”

“Twenty-seven,” George answered. He looked at the other two, who stared back at him. “Her birthday’s in April.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s on her paperwork, Bob.” George said, the way one would expect to hear “duh” tacked onto the end.

He cocked his head to the side, surprised. “You read that?”

George mimicked him, cocking his head to the other side. “You didn’t?”

“I’ve been meaning to get around to it,” he mumbled, feeling his face heat up.

“Stanley’s thirty-two,” George continued, pointing at the janitor as he swept the floor near Robert’s desk. “Raul is forty-four -, no,” he corrected, “sorry, forty-eight. Kuni’s fifty-one, and Philo never actually filled out his papers to begin with.”

“Is he allowed to do that?”

A loud BANG! rang out from the back room.

“I say we let him do what he wants, and in return, we get an on-site engineer who’s willing to host a show without extra pay.”

He eyed the back room’s doors, taking note of the odd green glow that shone from the porthole windows. “That’s fair,” he said.

Together, they made their way to their desks, sitting down just in time to avoid the crowd that pushed their way in seconds later.

The live studio audience had arrived, and they were loud, almost overwhelmingly so. They couldn’t wait to see the people they usually saw on small boxes in real life, excited to participate in the shows they watched with family and friends. Parents with children they’d pulled out of school for the day as an early Christmas present were shown by Pamela to the largest spare room-turned-sound stage, the one with yellow walls and bleachers to fit all those coming to spend a day at Stanley Spadowski’s Clubhouse. A smaller, noticeably older crowd, directed by the interns, were ushered to Town Talk’s half-living room set-up, all the way across the building.

The other shows filming — Secrets of the Universe, Raul’s Wild Kingdom, and You Bet Your Pink Slip — wouldn’t film until after the first two, and luckily required no such audience. Raul chose to film on-site at his apartment complex, Philo hated the idea of anyone in his lab space that didn’t explicitly have to be there, and Pink Slip was shot at whatever place of employment had someone willing to, as the show’s title suggested, bet their pink slip on something insane.

One of the interns, a short, dark-skinned girl that was one of the first to sign up for the job, rushed over, the rubber soles of her Converse slapping against the linoleum. “Mr. Newman?”

George glanced up at her. “What do you need, Gloria?”

“Mrs. Nichole wants you in make-up for your segment,” she said, rushing through the words. “She wants to try something new with your hair for the episode, and told me to tell you to,” she paused, focusing, “‘get your ass in the chair and don’t complain like you always do or she’ll shave your ‘stache next time.’” She grimaced, then added, “her words, not mine.”

“I’m not letting her put glitter on me again,” he muttered, standing up. He smoothed out the creases of his jacket, and straightened his tie. “I’m still picking pink flakes out of my sheets and it’s been a full month.”

“Last I saw, she had the eyeliner out,” Gloria said, “so I think you’re safe for today.”

“Don’t jinx it.”

Gloria left, spinning on her heel so fast it could’ve left a burnout, running back to Nicole’s hair and makeup station, operating out of a converted bathroom they’d found when planning out the station’s space, once they’d realized what was on the horizon. George followed her lead, not wanting to incur the wrath of Nicole, especially if his hair was at-risk of retaliation.

“Hey, George?” Robert said.

George stopped, and looked back at him. “Yeah?”

“Break a leg.”

George smiled back at him. “You know I will.” He turned back around, not wanting to lose Gloria in the hallway.

A moment later, after Robert had gone back to sorting through the bills they’d received for the upcoming week, a quiet thump! could be heard to those who knew to expect it.

“I didn’t mean it literally,” Robert called out.

“Oh, go to hell, Bob.”

Seven o’clock came quicker than he’d expected; between paying the bills, fielding calls from Raul’s suppliers, then having to speak to one very confused, very new-to-town police officer who’d seen Raul unloading a komodo dragon out of a van, and placing Philo’s order of calcite, dolomite, glass squares, and a bottle of hydrochloric acid, he didn’t have the time to, well, check the time.

“You planning on going home soon?” Pamela asked, packing up her purse. Around them, the station was nearly deserted; the camera crew left to film the next segments at four-thirty and the interns left at five, leaving only a skeleton crew at Station U-62. George had locked himself in the writer’s room, saying he needed the quiet to think of the next week’s Town Talk. “News segment finally wrapped, so I’m out of here.”

“Yeah,” he said, packing the last of his papers away into his desk drawer, “just waiting for George.”

“Mhm,” she said. She grabbed her coat off the rack, slipping it on and zipping it tight. “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends,” Robert replied. “Do you want to come closer and not shout it out?”

Pamela rolled her eyes as she made her way to his desk. “How long has George been dating that girl, Carrie?”

“Teri,” Robert corrected. “And, Christ, I don’t know. They’ve been on-and-off for as long as I’ve lived with him, why?”

“Just curious,” Pamela said. “How long have you two lived together?”

“Four years. Five this April, if that helps with whatever timeline you’re plotting out in your head.”

She pursed her lips. “Curious,” she repeated.

Robert sighed. “Fine, I’ll bite. What’s so curious about them?”

“They date for four, probably five years, and he still hasn’t popped the question?”

“With their breaks, they’ve probably only dated two years, to be honest.”

“And that! I mean,” she said, throwing a hand in the air, “if the guy I was with still didn’t know if he wanted to marry me after five years, even after seeing what life was like without me, I’d find myself someone who knew they wanted me.”

“Hey,” Robert interrupted, trying not to get upset, “he’s not leading her on, if that’s what you’re trying to imply. He’s a good guy, Pam.”

“I know, I know,” she reassured, “but it’s weird, right? I mean, is he breaking up with her every time they have a spat, or what?”

“I never said he was the one breaking up with her. In fact, every time they’ve broken up, Teri breaks up with him, and he doesn’t ever see a new girl. Ever. He just mopes around and waits for her to take him back.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Robert confirmed. “It’s kind of sad.”

“Has he ever dated another woman?”

“I don’t know, I’d have to check his diary,” Robert said, half-kidding. It wouldn’t surprise him to find out his roommate had an actual diary. “Why do you suddenly care about George’s dating life?”

“Well, since you’re off the table -”

If someone had thrown a bucket of gasoline and a lit match onto him, Robert still would’ve felt the cold creeping up his spine. “Pamela, you can’t -” “I’m kidding!” Pamela laughed. “Sheesh, I wish I had my camera!” She wiped a tear from the side of her eye, taking care not to smudge her mascara. “I’m just trying to learn a little more about my bosses today, is that a crime or something?”

“Go home before you send me into a stroke, Pam.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” she said, gathering her purse under her arm. “Drive safe tonight, ‘kay? I don’t think the next managers will let me wear what I want on air like you two do.”

“I will,” he said, “and same to you; drive safe.”

She waved, then let herself out, closing the door quickly to keep any of the afternoon’s snow from floating in.

With his papers safe and secure, he locked his drawer and walked down the hall to the writer’s room. It was the one of the only rooms they used that was actually created for the purpose they used it for, though without an official writing team, it was rarely occupied. George tended to flit inside when he needed the quiet, and any staff who doubled as writers would go in and out in pairs depending on what they were working on.

He knocked on the door, three quick beats. When he didn’t get a response, he inched the door open. “George?”

The man in question sat at the long cherrywood table, one hand twirling a pen, the other lost in his curls. “What’s better,” he said, not looking up, “local grocery stores already stocking Valentine’s Day merchandise before the month’s over, or the movie theater’s highest grossing films for this year and what they say about the people of Tulsa?”

“Movie theaters,” he said, leaning against the door frame. “You ready to head home?”

At the table, George scratched “TULSA MOVIE THEATERS” in large, blocky handwriting, making the lines thick enough to see, even without his glasses. “Definitely,” he said.

He got up, but as he walked toward the door, Robert noticed something on his face. “You’ve still got eyeliner on,” he said, staring at his eyes.

“Got to chat with the local punk scene,” George said. “They’re a pretty nice bunch, once you stop gawking at them.”

“Good to know,” he said. “It -, uh, it suits you.”

“The eyeliner?” George asked. “I’d agree with you, but I couldn’t see it when Nicole did it. She nearly put me in a headlock though; apparently, I’m squirmy.” He made air quotes with his fingers around the last word.

“Pamela thinks you’re gangly, and Nicole calls you squirmy,” Robert said, tsk’ing. He opened the front door, holding it for George to exit first. “What does Teri say about you?”

“Bad things, probably,” he muttered, reaching for Robert’s car. He laid a hand on the hood, trailing his fingers on the metal as he found his way to the passenger door. It was quiet outside; Philo usually took care of the station’s graveyard shift, which let the rest of the crew go home at a semi-normal hour. There were only two other cars in the lot aside from his, and he knew one belonged to Stanley while the other was probably Philo’s, though he’d never actually seen the man leave the property line.

Robert came up behind him, unlocking the door, then went to his own side, quickly getting inside and turning on the ignition. He turned the wipers on, clearing out the light dusting of snow they’d accumulated during the day, then reversed, clearing out of the lot before the car had begun to warm up. He reached over, clicking on the radio, and for a few minutes, they drove in silence, only broken up by the soft sounds of Sinatra’s Christmas album.

They made it all the way to the main road before Robert’s concern won out. “Hey, is everything okay with you? Between the glasses and -,” he didn’t want to say “not mentioning your girlfriend to Pam” out loud, so he settled on, “your general demeanor, you’ve been really off today.”

George hunched deeper into the seat, shoulders ‘round his ears. “I’m fine,” he said.

From the driver’s seat, Robert felt his hands grip the wheel a bit tighter than they usually did. He was well-accustomed to George’s moods; he knew everything from the giddy delight he had when the newest issue of MAD came in the mail to the slightly self-destructive depressive tendencies that came with Teri calling it quits, but the quiet sadness, the quiet anything, was never a sign of something good to come. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” George said. He stared straight forwards into the empty night, deliberately avoiding Robert’s gaze. In all their years of living together, he knew George only did that when he was hiding something. He had a shit poker face, mainly because whenever he lied, as rare as it was, he did so while refusing to look at the person he was lying to.

Robert knew he wouldn’t talk about it on his own, but he’d wanted to give him the chance. Now was the time for him to take out the pliers and pull it out of him.

He decided to try for the most obvious cause first, then work his way down. “Is it about Teri?”

The thud of George’s head hitting the headrest told him he’d struck gold on his first try. “She wants me to spend Christmas with her family.”

“And that’s -?” Robert trailed off, waiting for George to fill in the gap.

“Not good,” he said. “It’s not bad, either, but I -,” he groaned, threading a hand into the tuft of hair that’d started hanging loose from the rest as months went by with no haircut, “I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to go.”

“Well, why not?”

George scoffed. “Her family hates me, Bob,” he said, voice thick. “All they see me as is the guy that’s terrorized their only daughter for five years. One Christmas isn’t going to change that.”

“It could.” Robert turned off of the main road, pulling onto the side street they lived on. “People are weird about the holidays, especially people like Teri’s parents. They get all holy ‘bout it, wanting to forgive those who trespassed against them,” he said.

It surprised him; it’d been years since he’d said the Lord’s Prayer, but he still remembered it, at least partially.

“They’re going to want me to go to church with them, and I’m going to embarrass her, again, in front of her parents. I don’t know the words, or the customs, or -,” he spiraled, waving his hands as he spoke, “when to stand up and sit down, and I -”

“George, relax,” Robert said, keeping his voice calm. “Half of the entire Christian population only goes to church on Christmas, Easter, and for, like, funerals and weddings, if they go at all. You’re not going to be the only one there who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“Teri’s parents are Catholic,” he said. “Not Christian, I think.”

“It’s basically the same thing.” He swung into his spot, and turned the car off. “Just mumble through the prayers, don’t take the wafer or wine, and you’re good to go.”

“I don’t think I’m even supposed to go into a church,” George mumbled.

“Why,” Robert asked, “afraid you’ll burst into flames?”

He knew it was stupid, but it got a laugh out of George, and that’s what he was aiming for.

“Very funny,” he said, monotone. He reached for the door handle as the car’s engine died.

Together, they left the car, standing in the cold. It was nearly pitch-black outside, save for the streetlights, which cast a warm amber glow onto the pavement below. A few patches of ice remained solid, mostly on the road, but a few scattered on the sidewalk, one of which was too close to George for Robert’s comfort.

“Hey,” he said, stepping over the ice to the other man. He held out a hand close enough for George to see. “Grab on.”

He expected some form of protest, whether it be outright refusal or stubbornness, with or without a comment mentioning how he was a grown man, but like that morning, he said nothing, just stretched his hand out, wrapping his fingers around Robert’s.

Carefully, he guided George up the stairs, taking his time after seeing more patches of ice hiding on the steps. He waited until the front door was open to let go, putting the hand that had held George’s against the small of his back instead, ushering him inside.

“You can get first shower,” Robert said. “If I make Kraft, do you want any?”

“Yeah, I’ll take some,” he said.

“Try not to slip and break your head open.”

Robert watched as George stretched out his arms, making sure he didn’t run into any door frames again, and kept his eyes on him until he saw the bathroom door shut. Satisfied with the knowledge he wouldn’t have to hunt around for the first aid kit, he reached up to the wire shelves, grabbing one of the twenty-odd remaining boxes of Kraft mac ‘n’ cheese he’d bought at Costco a few months back, and turned on the burner.

He’d just finished divvying up the pasta into two bowls when he heard the water turn off in the bathroom. He hunted around for a minute, searching through the drawers, then the dishwasher, until he came up with two clean forks, and set them in either bowl. He brought both bowls to the small hunk of wood they called a coffee table, sitting down on the couch and turning the television on.

“CBS is doing a M*A*S*H marathon!” Robert yelled. “You down?”

The bathroom door opened, and George shuffled out. From the corner of his eye, all Robert saw was a mass of light gray; after all the times he’d seen the other man do laundry, he knew that George had a tendency to buy his sweatpants and hoodies in matching colors, so seeing just one hue wasn’t out of character.

Robert patted the cushion next to his. “Come on, it’s dinner and a show.” He shoveled a forkful of macaroni into his mouth and cranked up the volume.

The couch groaned as George dropped down beside him. “Which ep’?”

He watched for a minute, trying to place it. “Think it’s the one where the guy gets the Dear John letter,” Robert said. “God, imagine how much that would suck. You’re fighting a war, the only thing keeping you together is knowing you’ve got someone to go home to, then -” he turned, looking over to George, and - “oh my God, George.”

“What?” George asked, confused.

He couldn’t help the snort of laughter that came out, but he tried to smother it as best as he could. “I’m sorry,” he said, chuckling. “I’m sorry, it’s just -, you look like a raccoon, dude. Did you use anything to remove the stuff Nicole put on?”

#again I am so thankful for how excited some of y'all are #it means the world to me as a writer to see that people actually want to read my stuff!!!#hope this is an alright condolence for everyone #uhf #weird al yankovic #sherrie's shit #and to clarify-george’s feelings re:terri are his own self deprecating thoughts.#terri does not actually hate him nor think badly of him #I have a grudge against fics that demonize female characters to make the m/m pairing happen and I am not about to do a 180 to write that ahi #shit* <- for the last tag

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4kominato · 6 months

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A/N: Hiiii sorry it's lateee (as usual). I finally got a chance to breathe bc its spring break rn... but also this is my last academic semester!! after finals this May its only rotations til graduation!! thank god... so i should have more free time after May! ~kuri

@ssnyda Request: I would like to request a scenario where there's some tension between Carlos and reader before smut ensues? Like in the locker rooms or something.. Since Carlos seems like a pretty nice guy all in all, I'd prefer if it also ends on a sweet note as well, thanks!

Pairing: Kamiya Carlos Toshiki x F!Reader

Genre: Smut (M) - SEXUAL CONTENT

Word Count: 3.4K

Finally, you thought to yourself as the cram school bell rang. You’d promised your boyfriend, Carlos, that you’d watch his pre-season scrimmage against Seido this evening before going out to dinner together, but your dumbass managed to forget that you had cram school at the same time, even though you’ve had the same cram school schedule for the past two years. Instead of telling him you couldn’t make it though, you decided it’d be a good idea to sprint back to the school as soon as your class ended and make it just in time to catch the last few innings. But no, of course it wouldn’t work out that perfectly. By the time you get back to school the whole field and the stands are completely deserted with absolutely no players or spectators in sight.

“Dammit!” you cursed to yourself, face palming at your own pride and stupidity. You should’ve just been honest with him and told him you would only be able to make it to dinner.

“Looking for Carlos?” a familiar, monotonous voice spoke up, snapping you out of it.

“Oh, Shirakawa-kun, hi,” you chuckled nervously, “Yeah, I’m looking for Carlos. Sorry I missed the scrimmage…”

“It’s fine, you didn’t miss much. Seido’s batting line-up is pretty shit right now. We won without even trying.”

“Ouch… Well, hopefully they get it together before the season starts, but still congrats on the win. Anyways, so where’s Carlos?”

“The last I saw him he was still in the locker room. I think he should be almost done by now.”

“Cool. Thanks Shirakawa-kun! Nice talking to you!” You quickly excused yourself with a bow, to which Shirakawa returned a brief wave before the two of you parted ways.

When you arrived at the men’s locker room, the door was propped open so you called first without entering, “Carlos? Are you in there?”

“Yeah,” he answered back almost immediately, “You can come in. No one else is in here.”

You were reluctant to enter, considering it was the men’s locker room, so you popped your head in first, then entered once you confirmed it really was only Carlos in there. When you spotted him, he was standing in front of one of the lockers, without a shirt on, seemingly doing nothing… though you didn’t miss the opportunity to check out his beautifully sculpted back and arm muscles since they were out on display.

“U-uh, Carlos…?” you spoke up once you collected yourself after the initial shock of seeing him shirtless.

“Hm?” he responded, turning towards you to reveal his chiseled front side making you almost choke on air. Darting your eyes away, you gulped hard before responding.

“W-why… are you just standing there? Without a shirt on?” you murmured, eyes glued to the floor. There was definitely mutual knowledge that this was the first time you’d seen him half naked, but while you were flustered by the situation, Carlos appeared unphased; or maybe he was actually enjoying your reaction.

“Why aren’t you looking at me when you’re talking to me, hm?” he answered back with a smirk that you barely managed to make out through your peripherals as he slowly approached you. “You’re not embarrassed to see your own boyfriend without a shirt on, are you?”

In the blink of an eye he was standing right in front of you, hands creeping around your waist as he pulled you flush against him and despite your previous inability to look at him directly, the close proximity made staring at his beautiful face and upper body irresistible. You were so dazed that it didn't even occur to you that you were just standing limply in his hold until he commented, “You can touch me too y’know,” with a chuckle.

You could feel your face heating up and your heart beating faster thinking about where this could lead. You’d be lying to say you hadn’t fantasized about it before… many times before… but leaving cram school today, you didn’t expect in the slightest that tonight would be the night that you reached home base, and you definitely didn’t think it’d be in the locker room.

Just as you lifted your hands and placed them onto his firm chest, an obnoxious but familiar voice startled you, making you impulsively jolt away and break out of your still calm boyfriend’s grasp.

“Carlos?! Carlos! Are you still in there?” The voice grew louder until a shorter boy with blonde hair emerged from the doorway, his face lighting up upon seeing the one whom he was searching for standing before him, “Thank god you’re here, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! What’s taking you so long? You’ve been in here since the end of the scrimmage!”

“I was debating if I should put my shirt on or not,” he replied dryly, not bothered at all by Mei’s judgment.

“What? Why? You never wear a shirt anyways,” Mei remarked, puzzled over Carlos’s unusual predicament.

“We’re going out to dinner,” he answered, gesturing his head towards you as he spoke, to which the blonde refocused his attention in your direction.

“Oh, hi! You were so quiet I didn’t even notice you there!” Mei chuckled and slung an arm around you.

“Or maybe you’re just too loud and oblivious,” you responded sheepishly whilst you still attempted to collect yourself after the heated moment you were having with your boyfriend just moments before.

“Hey, that’s not nice,” Mei whined with a pout, “But really, you seem a little, hm… flustered. What’s wrong?”

“This is the first time I’ve been shirtless in front of her. Let her breathe, man.” Carlos shook his head with an exasperated sigh at his routinely obnoxious teammate.

“What?! Are you serious?!” Mei laughed out-loud in disbelief before turning to you, “I would’ve thought you’d seen this guy naked already because he literally never wears clothes around here, especially in the dorms.”

“W-what?” You sputtered, not knowing how to respond. This was news to you, but even the sheer thought of Carlos naked had you biting your lip and clenching your thighs together; maybe you even felt a bit jealous that the baseball team got the chance to see your boyfriend nude on numerous occasions while you’d yet to see it for yourself.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Carlos finally stepped in, flicking Mei in the forehead before pulling you out of his grasp.

“Ow! Rude!” he whined, rubbing his forehead to ease the pain. “Well anyways, I came to ask if you wanted to come to yakiniku with us. I’m going with Masa-san, Shirakawa, and Itsuki, but I guess you already have dinner plans so nevermind. Later!” Throwing up a wave, Mei finally made his way out of the locker room without another word. Thank god; you thought he was never gonna leave…

Upon Mei’s exit, Carlos followed close behind to close and lock the door, preventing the possibility of any further interruptions. “Now, where were we?” Carlos asked rhetorically as he re-approached you, cupping your face in his hands.

“I was admiring your body,” you admitted without shame, desperate to pick up where the two of you left off.

“Right, right… and I was saying you don’t have to be shy to touch me.” Leaning in to connect your lips, his hands, soon after, slid from your cheeks and slowly down your neck, creeping to your shoulders and then down the length of your arms until they reached your wrists. Eagerly, but gently he guided your hands up to his toned abdomen, encouraging you to caress him to your heart’s content. Entranced by the passion in his kiss, you were unable to resist the invitation to feel him up so you did; delicately you traced every crevice with your fingertips and explored every inch of his exposed torso, working your way up from his v-cut to his pecks.

Your breath hitched in your throat and heat rushed between your legs at the feeling of Carlos thrusting his hips flush against you, revealing to you how hard he’d gotten. Knowing now that he wanted you made your desire for him amplify more than you even thought possible; while still eagerly savoring the taste of his lips and tongue you pulled your uniform tie loose and aggressively began unbuttoning your dress shirt.

“Hasty, aren’t you?” Carlos pulled away with a smirk spread across his glistening lips.

“I want you,” you admitted without hesitation, peeling your top from your shoulders and letting the garment fall to the floor. “I’ve been wanting to for a while now, but our schedules just haven’t been able to line up…”

“Aw, baby,” Carlos cooed, wrapping his arms around your torso to unhook your bra, “You should have told me. I could have snuck you into my dorm any time… and bought some condoms ahead of time.” Pinning you against the closed lockers, he peppered kisses along your neck whilst he tenderly cupped one of your breasts in his palm. As his plump lips worked their way further down your collarbone and chest, it wasn’t long before they encompassed your free nipple, sucking and nipping at it without neglecting your other breast, continuing his fondling with gentle, circular motions.

“It’s ah-alright…” you struggled to speak amongst Carlos’s amazing service, “I s-started birth control a-as soon as we started da-ating…”

“Hm, wow. What a good girl,” he hummed in delight as he slid even further down your body, his hands grazing your hips before smoothly slipping them under your uniform skirt to hook his fingers into the waistband of your panties. “You’ve been preparing for this all along, huh?”

“Yes,” you gulped in anticipation, and before you could say anything more, he had your panties pooled at your ankles and you could feel your own wetness trickling down your inner thighs.

“Yeah, I see that.” He observed with a deep chuckle, brows raised in amusement as he swatched a sample of the copious arousal seeping through your lower lips. Chills ran down your spine as you watched him take your essence into his mouth and lick his fingers clean with a satisfied expression on his face. “You taste delicious,” he praised as he guided you to sit on one of the benches and pushed your skirt up enough for him to see you in all your glory.

Hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, his tongue wasted no time delving into the depths of your slick folds, briefly teasing your entrance before slowly dragging his wet muscle up to your clit. After circling and flicking it a few times bare, his lips joined in on the fun, enveloping the sensitive bulb as his tongue continued with its skillful stimulation.

“Mm-ngh… Carlos…” you whimpered in a failed attempt to stifle your moan out of fear that a random passerby outside would hear what was going on; but whatever magic your boyfriend was working down there felt so damn amazing that he managed to break you just a little bit. You didn’t think your stamina was all that bad, but now he definitely had you second guessing.

“C-Carlo-os I-I’m—“

“Close? I know,” he interrupted smuggly, pulling away only momentarily to speak before he resumed God’s work, but with a kick this time. To your surprise, he slipped two of his slender digits into your core, adding stimulation from the inside whilst his mouth continued its assault from the outside.

“C-Carlos—!?” you squealed, face scrunched and toes curled as he effortlessly pushed you over the edge. Though it wasn’t much to work with, you gripped the back edge of the narrow locker room bench from behind for dear life as the bliss exploding from between your legs surged through the rest of your trembling body. The orgasm he induced had you feeling so weak that it felt like your arms could give out on you any second, but you did everything in your ability to hold yourself up because more than anything, you didn’t want the euphoria to end.

You didn’t do it consciously, but you must’ve made a disappointed sound or expression as the warmth of his mouth and fingers receded, but with his clean hand, Carlos tilted your chin up to place the most chaste kiss to your lips. “Don’t look so sad. Y’know I’m not done yet, right?”

Swinging a leg over the bench, he straddled it facing you as his hands went straight to his belt, then pants, hastily undoing both of them enough to access the waistband of his briefs. “Babe, c’mere,” he called in a deep, sultry tone that immediately perked you up, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

You watched like a hawk as his hooked thumb pulled the spandex material over the prominent bulge hidden beneath, the suspense of the reveal making you utterly restless in your seat. When his firm manhood finally sprang from the confines, you felt like you could come again in that instant just from looking at it; it was even sexier than you could’ve ever imagined.

“Well, don’t just stare,” he chuckled, obviously flattered by your reaction, “Come here and give me a nice fastball right down the middle so I can hit a homerun, hm? Or maybe a few if you can go for that long.”

That was all you needed to hear to completely drop your self-restraints and pounce him like a bitch in heat. It took you about point five seconds to position yourself on top of him while he gently guided your hips down to align his tip perfectly with your entrance. Having absolutely zero patience, you lowered yourself onto him, letting his girth stretch your cavernous flesh as his length inched its way up to kiss your womb.

“Damn, baby. Does it feel okay?” he half asked, half groaned, to which you nodded aggressively because you were actually far beyond okay… you were more like in heaven or something to that caliber. “Tell me if something hurts or doesn’t feel good,” he assured as he steadily thrusted his hips upward, then retracted just as slowly to gauge your response to his movement before picking up the pace.

“It’s good, but…” you mumbled breathily as you wrapped your arms and legs around his torso, face nuzzling into his neck, “Please go faster…”

“Faster?” he questioned with a chuckle, “I can’t deny a request like that, but still make sure to tell me if it hurts.”

Not even a moment after you gave him an affirmative nod, his hands were on your ass, stabilizing you while he bucked his hips up into you like a wild animal, making you bounce erratically on top of him.

“A-ah… Ca-arlo-os…!” you cried out choppily, the feeling of his cock pulverizing your insides making your whole mind go blank; the only thing you could process was how good he was making you feel and how close you were to coming again.

“You okay?” Carlos asked breathily without slowing his pace at all, “Too fast?”

“I-I’m s-so c-clo-ose…” you moaned barely coherently, given how winded the bouncing was making you.

“Then come. Don’t be shy,” he growled, his throaty groans making your insides churn, the end drawing even nearer in only a matter of seconds. It only took a few more strokes before your toes were curling, nails digging into his muscular back as the tension in your core rapidly unraveled until the tingling feeling of euphoria burst inside of you, making you cry out into his neck while your tender walls pulsated around his angry cock. His thrusting slowed, but not to a complete stop as you came down from that hell of a high.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy, baby,” he groaned with his brows knit together and head rolled back, “Think you can go one more time?”

“W-wha–? Ah–!” Before you could even really answer he was back to relentlessly bucking his hips up into you and bouncing you like a freakin’ basketball. You didn’t actually think you could come again, but after another ten seconds or so of him hitting that glorious spot within, you could feel a third climax creeping up on you, threatening to strike at any given moment. To your surprise, a deep grunt resonated from Carlos’s broad chest, making you gasp and the feeling of warmth filling your insides followed soon after. The sheer thought of the situation was enough to give you that final push over the edge, making you squeal from both pleasure and a hint of overstimulation; you could barely even breathe by the time Carlos’s movements came to a stop.

“I must say…” he started with a breathy chuckle, still obviously catching his breath, “I didn’t think you’d actually come three times. I’m impressed.”

“I didn’t think so either…” you replied just as breathlessly, “You were just… so good…”

“I’m not the lead-off man for nothing. As long as I hit, I can get on base.”

“Can you stop with the stupid baseball puns?” you giggled and whacked him lightly on the chest.

“Why? You think they’re funny don’t you?” he laughed with you.

“No, they’re stupid…” But despite your answer, you were still loopy and laughing as you spoke. Cupping his face in your hands, you pulled him into a loving kiss, tongues dancing between your lips. The moment was soon ruined, however, by the sound of pounding on the door and a voice that both of you were hoping not to hear again for the rest of the evening.

“Are you guys done in there yet?” Mei yelled without even the slightest hint of remorse.

“No, why?” Carlos snapped back.

“I left my phone in there! We didn’t even go to yakiniku yet!”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

“Ugh, can you just hurry up?! Make up for what all of us had to hear out here!”

“No one said you had to listen.”

“It was hard not to with how loud you guys were!”

Shaking his head, Carlos gave up arguing with his snarky teammate, knowing that if he wanted to, they could go on forever. “Hold still, alright? I’m gonna get you cleaned up,” he announced to you as he stood up from the bench and walked into the bathroom to grab some toilet paper to wipe the remnants from both you and the bench. He helped you gather your clothes and redress before redressing himself, and thankfully he put a shirt on too. Once the two of you helped each other to look presentable enough to go out to dinner, you nervously followed behind Carlos as he unlocked and opened the locker room door.

“Finally!” the blonde nearly yelled, pushing through the door into the locker room. “Jesus, it’s so stuffy in here!”

“It’ll air out in a few minutes,” Carlos answered back as he grabbed your hand and led you out. “We’re going to dinner now. Bye,” he added as he quickly rushed out before Mei could catch up. He knew he’d hear all about it from the team later tonight because there’s no doubt that Mei told everyone, but that was a problem he’d deal with after you guys enjoyed your romantic dinner. Afterall, it’s not every day the two of you get to spend quality time together like this.

“Oh and by the way…” you spoke up as the two of you walked hand in hand towards the school exit, “Sorry I missed the scrimmage… I forgot I had cram school and couldn’t make it back in time.”

“I know,” he replied, unphased, “I realized after I asked you that our scrimmage was during your cram school time. I thought maybe you said yes because it got canceled this week or something like that, but as soon as I saw you didn’t come I knew you just forgot about it.”

“Oh…” you chuckled sheepishly, embarrassed but relieved that he apparently had it all figured out already. “So… this means you’re not upset with me right?”

“No? Of course not. Dinner is the important part; that’s our date. I only invited you to the game because you said you like to watch me play. There will be plenty of other ones for you to watch though so don’t even worry about it.”

You could feel a grin tugging at your lips at the sound of his reassuring words as you wondered how you were so lucky to have found such a laid-back and understanding boyfriend. Even as a busy, first string baseball player at a prestigious school, he never failed to set aside adequate time to spend with you. It’s his effort and consideration that makes your moments together so much more special and always worth the wait.

#request #kuri's writing #daiya no ace #daiya no ace fanfic #kamiya carlos toshiki #kamiya carlos toshiki fanfic #daiya no ace carlos fanfic #daiya no ace carlos #carlos x reader #kamiya carlos #ace of diamond #ace of diamond carlos #ace of diamond fanfic

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dexlexia · 1 year

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atomic gold - a vashwood fan fic

chapter 3/3: atomic + gold (the smut chapter) pairing: vashwood (vash x nicholas) rating: 18+ summary: Nicholas swore this was the last fight, but it was never the case. He always ended up in the projector room in the east wing of the university’s main building being patched up by Vash. Vash was a good guy, a little goofy at times. And had a habit of causing more trouble then helping, but he and Nicholas were rather close since they both became the only two members of the dying film club. tags: college au, internalized homophobia, smut, nicholas is bad at feelings, film club au, minor violence, mentions of blood, trans!vash, needle mentions, jealousy, background relationships, catholicism, slow burn, eventual smut, reference to abuse, controlling knives a/n: read it on ao3 !

It was winter semester now. Spring was around the corner which meant that the desert plants were alive and well. Which meant that Vash was a sneezing, coughing, sniffling mess. Despite a love for plants, Vash had bad allergies. The pollen from the newly sprouted desert flowers had Vash carrying tissues and allergy medicine in his bag.

"I don't know, Nicholas. I thought living in the desert would solve this problem. Nothing grows here!"

Nicholas rubbed his boyfriend's back, "I think plants grow everywhere." He handed a few more tissues to the blonde as he started to sneeze.

It was the two of them alone in the projector room, Vash's legs were over Nicholas' lap as the blonde attempted to finish his mid-semester paper. It was close to the end of the school year. Nicholas was going back to the seminary where he lived outside of school, while Vash and Knives were taking extra classes.

"I know, but it's not fair!" Vash whined.

Nicholas kissed him again, "Don't worry, just keep doing your research. Before you know it all the flowers will be dead again and no more allergies."

"I guess you're right." Vash rested his head on Nicholas' shoulder. The two briefly kissed before Vash went back to his work. Looking at his laptop from an angle, "You know what we should do."

"What's that?"

Vash said bluntly, "I think we should have sex. It's been a few months now and you haven't jumped my bones!"

Maybe it's because your brother would kill me, Nicholas thought. But instead he said, "I didn't want to push you is all. I know you've been through a lot and I didn't want you to think I was using you for your body."

"Aw, this old thing." Vash chuckled as he gestured to himself, "Usually I charge, but for my honey it's free of charge." He said in a sing-song voice. In reality, Vash had never had sex before, Nicholas knew this too. The anxiety about his body, both in a gender kind of way and also the damage done to it, kept him from being intimate. He pulled his head away to look at Nicholas, "So do you want to have sex?"

Nicholas was caught off guard by the question. He was supposed to not have sex till marriage but he broke that vow a long time ago. He cupped Vash's face, "I don't know, do you want to have sex?"

Vash nodded, "I trust you, Nicholas." His lips curled up at the edges, "I know you'll be gentle." Then peppered kisses along the other man's jawline.

Nicholas sighed contently, "We're not going at it in the club room."

"Of course not! I'm not a harlot!"

Nicholas burst out laughing, "No, no. Of course not, you're a dashing young, virtuous man."

Vash stuck his tongue out, "You sound like a perverted old man."

"You're literally three months older than me!" Nicholas argued. The pair laughed together before Vash snuggled up with Nicholas even more. The man threw an arm around his lover and kept him close. He took in the scent of the strong shampoo the man used. He was an assault on his nose, but he ignored it in favor of basking in the blonde's warmth.

The plan now was to figure out when to have sex, now that the plan was set in motion. It was getting harder to find a time where Knives would be gone all night. The idea wound Vash up. When the pair were alone, he'd rub up against Nicholas. Kissing his neck and ear, even when the pair were tucked away in the designated smoking area.

"You're a pain." Nicholas said teasingly one rainy afternoon when, while passing by, Vash grabbed the other man's ass then giggled to himself like a schoolgirl. Nicholas playfully rolled his eyes and pinched Vash's ass in return before he sat down on the couch in the club room. It took some time to get the right day to have their first time together.

But waiting only makes it more worth it, the closer it came to that Saturday afternoon where Knives was out all day with the rest of the student union. Nicholas slinked across campus with condoms in his pockets. As soon as he got through the front door, Vash was all over him. his hands in his short dark hair, his tongue practically down the other man's throat.

"Someone's excited." Nicholas purred.

"Yeah, because after so long I finally got to have you. You make me crazy, Wolfwood!" Vash grinned before pulling the man in for another kiss. It was hot and passionate as Nicholas eventually pinned the blonde up against the beige wall near the coat rack. He held the man by the shoulder and passionately made out with him. His tongue glazed along Vash's top lip.

The feeling of being so close the other man made Vash feel warm all over, his pussy became wet with the sensation. Their foreheads eventually pressed together as Nicholas started to unbutton the front of Vash's shirt.

While he did that, Vash turned his head away and sneezed into his elbow.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Nicholas asked, "If your allergies are acting up, we can try another time."

Vash cupped Nicholas' face, "No, even if I sneeze so hard my eyes pop out, I want this." He looked determined. The two began to kiss again, bodies moved up against one another as Nicholas kept Vash up against the wall. Vash's quick hands worked at Nicholas' belt, he tugged on the buckle and moaned into the other's mouth.

"You better not get addicted to this." Nicholas teased, "Can't be fucking you every moment of every day." He gripped onto the other's hips and started to passionately kiss him again. Vash whimpered in his mouth like something out of a porno. Nicholas pulled away and ran his fingers through his lover's hair, softly pulling at a handful of it, "You look divine. I need your full consent before we keep going."

"I want it, Nicholas."

"Louder."

"Nicholas, please." Vash was sounding desperate now.

"Louder, Vash."

"Nichol-"

"What did I say, handsome? I want the whole damn block to know who I am and what I'm about to do to you."

Vash moaned, this was amazing. He held onto his lover's shoulders, "Please, Nicholas. Please fuck me. I want you to fuck me. I never wanted anyone else in my entire life. Please, please, please!" His cheeks were flushed. He was met with another kiss.

"That's what I like to hear." Nicholas chuckled, "I love you Vash, for all my days I'm going to love you. Nothing will change that. " His hand snaked through the opening of his shirt, he felt a jagged scar tissue. His finger eventually grazed the left side of the top surgery scarring. It was more flat than the other scars, but Nicholas knew it was there.

Vash really was a special man, a self made man. He was one of a kind and Nicholas wanted to cherish him for the rest of his life. Soon Vash pulled away from Nicholas' grasp and moved past his, he had a giddy in this step as he turned to face Nicholas midway up the stairs, "Come on now." Then winked before scampering back upstairs.

Nicholas licked his lips and followed close behind. The erection in his pants throbbed as he got a faceful of Vash's ass as he bound up the stairs on those long legs. The dark haired man palmed at his erection and soon met the blonde inside of the bedroom. Once again they were kissing as Vash pulled at the bottom hem of Nicholas' black t-shirt.

"I want you."

"I want you too."

Vash rubbed his thighs together, feeling wet between them. The two men got undressed slowly, Vash felt Nicholas' eyes on him. He really did trust this man with his whole heart. Soon he felt Nicholas' hand on his lower back and he looked over to see Nicholas looking back at him. He turned to kiss him on the lips.

"You're amazing."

"Not as amazing as you." Vash replied. He turned around fully and planted a proper kiss on the other man's lips. He made a small moaning noise when Nicholas slipped two fingers into his pussy. The sound made Nicholas' cock twitch. The blonde wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer, their chest's touching.

Nicholas held onto the blonde with one hand while he played with clit with the other. He was encouraged by the blonde's moans, soon their kisses became sloppy and the dark haired man was guided to the bed. Vash laid down on it and took Nicholas with him. The air in the room felt warmer the more they felt up each other's bodies.

"Fuck." Vash panted.

"You feel so good, blondie. So fucking good." Nicholas moaned as he pulled away from another searing kiss. They could make out all evening and Nicholas would be content, but it was time for the main event. He continued to play with Vash's pussy, their kisses became more greedy as the blonde kept his long arms around the other's broad shoulders. They complement one another perfectly, the noises the blonde made accompanied Nicholas'. Vash's lips eventually went down the other's neck.. He rubbed his thighs together as he started to leave marks on the other's skin. Nicholas responded by adding a third finger, his thumb still teased the other man's clit.

"Oh, Nicholas.' Vash moaned against the other's skin. It felt remarkable being so close to the other man. It was like something that felt right. This is what he wanted his future sexual experiences to be like. He wanted them with Nicholas. He had little need to want anyone else. Another kiss on Nicholas' lips and Vash said, "We need the condoms."

"RIght ahead of ya." Nicholas pulled his fingers out and went to the edge of the bed to try and retrieve his pants. There he found the shiny foil and got one out before he crawled back up the bed to the blonde. He showed him the condom and slowly started to open it. They arranged themselves so Vash was on top and Nicholas' hands were on the blonde's waist. Nicholas gave him a reassured smile, "Don't worry, we'll have fun."

Vash kissed him once more, his kisses were a delight. His core ached for the other man, he wouldn't admit it to him but Nicholas D. Wolfwood was the subject of many sexual fantasies. And even a few wet dreams. Slowly he inched himself down Nicholas' cock. He hissed slightly but Nicholas was there to cheer him on. Once he reached the base, Nicholas leaned up and kissed at Vash's chest, especially around the top surgery scars. The praise made Vash feel more comfortable.

"Are you okay?" Nicholas asked as Vash seated himself fully on his cock. He rubbed the man's thigh as he slowly started to move, the connection between them grew as they began to fuck. Vash soon leaned forward so his face was on Nicholas' shoulder, his hips still working the man's cock.

Vash held onto the bed under him as their bodies rocked together. The bed moved slightly from their movements, the headboard pushed further away from the wall as they began to pick up the pace. The sound of sex filled the room as the pair went back to kissing one another. Vash's tongue licked across Nicholas' mouth and soon he was very deeply kissing the other man. The grip on his hips tightened, Vash secretly hoped they left bruises. But Nicholas wouldn't make a huge mess of his body on their first time.

After all, they had a whole lifetime to explore their hidden desires.

Vash moaned into the other's mouth and Nicholas' eyes fluttered shut. In the privacy of the blonde's bedroom, the pair fucked.

Or would it be called making love because Nicholas felt the chun of not only lust and desire, but also love. He could scream from the heavens that he loved Vash Stampede. With his goofy blonde hair, single piercing, even that mole under his eye. Nicholas would kiss that mole for the rest of his life. Vash was a great boyfriend, even when he rambled about his DVD collection from time to time. But the other man would listen to it every day, and he believed he had a lot of time to do so. He felt Vash's hands tighten on the covers beside his body and he decided to ram his hips even harder, his cock hitting every sweet spot in Vash. Which made the other man's back arch and his voice became tighter.

"That's a good, blondie." Nicholas chuckled, "Excellent. Fuck, you feel amazing." Maybe this was what haven felt like. To Nicholas this was the perfect afterlife. He laughed in his head about rejecting his faith and worshiping Vash's sweet pussy. His hands soon found hold on Vash's head, he yanked on blonde strands as he man on top of him rode his cock.

Vash pulled away and panted wildly, his face was bright pink with the color going all the way down his neck and chest. He looked divine on top of Nicholas. LIke he always belonged there. His heart beated rapidly as he tried to steady his breathing. He wasn't a professional at sex, the only kind he ever had was with himself. His thighs were trembling and his pace was uneven. He was just trying to do what felt right.

Their bodies moved in almost sync, they were getting pleasure from every thrust as the bed creaked under them. They were glad no one could really hear them unless they were inside the townhouse. Vash's noises were becoming higher pitched, the sounds made Nicholas' cock throb inside of the other man. These were noises that he was pretty sure no one else had ever heard. These were for Nicholas' ears alone.

"How are you feeling?" Nicholas asked.

"I feel really good. You're amazing." Vash replied, his back arched more as a particularly hard current of pleasure raced through every nerve in his body. His chin moved to the ceiling and he let out a loud moan before Nicholas reached out and pulled him back down so their lips crashed together and their kisses became a fiery inferno.

They soon parted and Vash used Nicholas' abdomen for support as he continued to ride on the other man's cock. The noises of their intimacy filled the room, with Vash's hips working overtime to sate his man. His mouth hung open as he went back and forth on the other's cock. This is what he wanted, more than anything he wanted Nicholas' cock. The man made him feel special and the intimacy was exciting and much needed. There was a spark between them and Vash felt it the most at the moment.

"You feel like a dream." Nicholas panted. There was something about his closeness that made Nicholas hot all over. Not just by the feeling of Vash working his cock, but this tenderness between them. He had never felt it with another person before. It was like everything was meant to lead up to this moment and every moment ever.

"You're not too bad yourself, Nicholas. I was worried it wasn't going to fit for a moment. But I guess I'm just made for you." And he let out a yelp as Nicholas' smashed their lips together once more. Even a cheesy joke like that made Nicholas only fall for him more.

Nicholas groped as Vash's ass and move his hips up and down, his cock hitting the deepest parts of his lover as they continued to fuck on the loud bed. The headboard continued to ram against the wall behind it. The man felt the deep feeling of orgasm in his gut as he continued to ram into the other. Vash was feeling the same thing too which encouraged him to keep going even as his thigh tensed up from the impending orgasmic pleasure. Their lips were pressed together as Vash lost all rhythm of his movements as moved as quickly as his body could go, even with a sharp pain in his hip. But it was worth it.

"Fuck, Nicholas. You feel so good, ah! I want to have sex with you over and over again." Vash was practically bouncing on the other's cock. His motions were out of control as he rose and dropped himself on his cock.

The need for orgasms became stronger as they continued to move. Vash wanted to hold out but it was hard when the man below him was so alluring. He felt on cloud nine even with the aches in his legs from kneeling in this position to ride Nicholas. They were both nearing their orgasms, they could taste it on the tips of their tongues. Especially Vash who currently had his tongue hanging out of his mouth as pleasurable noises left his mouth.

"Shit, Vash."

"Please, Nicholas."

"I love you." Nicholas panted, with a few more heavy thrusts he finished inside the condom. He laid limp on the bed now as his chest rapidly rose and fell. Vash finished close behind with a few more rolls of his hips and soon. was limp on Nicholas' chest. The two men laid naked in bed together as they tried to regain their composure. "Fuck." Nicholas exhaled, "I need to stop smoking." With the amount of heaving he was doing after one round of sex.

Vash got off of Nicholas and cuddled up beside him on the small bed. His soaked pussy rubbed against the side of Nicholas' thigh. He clenched when Nicholas moved in for a kiss. The two of them laid there in the bed as the streetlamp shined in through the window. Vash felt in total peace, this was the most clear headed he thought when normally he was frantic. The other man placed kisses softly on his face as they relaxed.

"How was that?" Nicholas asked.

"It was great, I was a little nervous but I had a great time!" Vash said in a chipper tone. He leaned up for most kisses and his entire body felt relaxed from the rush of his orgasm. His legs tangled up with the other man's as he let himself be held by Nicholas. Vash was excited and nervous, he wanted his first time to be special and do it with someone that he really loved. And Nicholas fit the bill entirely.

Nicholas kept an arm around Vash as the blonde played with his chest hair. They remained snuggled up until Vash let out a loud moan with his face buried in Nicholas' arm. He could smell the sweat on the other man. But he was too tired to get aroused again. Right now he wanted a large pint of ice cream, a crocheted blanket and to be smothered by Nicholas' hugs. Being in a relationship with another man wasn't about sex,but experiencing every emotion that they could feel.

"I'm one lucky guy." Nicholas remarked, "Yeah... I lucked out."

"Not as much as I lucked out. Now there's a tub of ice cream with our name on it and a whole collection of movies. Would you care to join me to watch some of them? We have all night."

"Sure, Vash. I'd love to."

#vashwood #trigun #trigun stampede #nicholas wolfwood #nicholas d. wolfwood #vash #vash the stampede #college au #atomic gold #dexlexia writes

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