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#and Jesus loves marijuana
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WAS NO ONE GONNA TELL ME THAT COACH BEARD FROM TED LASSO IS THE “Jesus loves marijuana” GUY FROM COMMUNITY
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bottomramen · 3 months
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Sweet football facts
Coach Beard on the show "Ted Lasso" is also the "Jesus loves marijuana" hitchhiker on Community.
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lessendless · 2 years
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honestly i'd love to see a spinoff about this character
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badbluebossbabe · 3 months
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After many rewatches, I can safely say the best Community episodes were:
Jeff/Shirley storylines
Abed/Annie storylines
Troy/anyone storylines
I still hate Jeff/Annie and I hate it more and more with every rewatch.
I hate that the dungeons & dragons episode is still removed from Netflix for a stretch of a reason.
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babylon5 · 7 months
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They tried to give me like oxycodone n shit but weed works so much better for me. Yay weed
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fadedncity · 1 year
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give me the greenlight
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wc: 19.0k…y'all i genuinely don't know how
pairing: mark x fem!reader
cw: smut, street racing au, childhood friends to lovers, non idol au, college au, lil angst, fluff, mention of other idols, slight allusions to a toxic ex, alcohol consumption, use of marijuana, mark's lowkey a big flirt, also a tad bit of a slowburn, switch!mark, switch!reader, auralism, thigh riding, dirty talk, pet names, praising, teasing, marking, fingering, semi public sex, car sex, oral sex (giving/receiving), exhibitionism (barely), multiple orgasms, protected sex, aftercare, way more plot than i expected, lmk if i missed anything
[9:16 PM] FRIDAY
"Come on. The cops are gonna bust it before we even get there!" Summer stomped her heels like a whiny child.
"You know these things never start on time, we will be fine," you said, coming down the stairs.
"You could always go ahead of us and we'll meet you there," Nyla said, checking herself in the mirror, "Oh wait, you can't drive," she deadpanned.
"Only temporarily," Summer rolled her eyes.
"Only until your suspension is lifted," you reminded.
"One of you could let me borrow a car. It's only an issue if I get caught." Summer says matter of factly, like either of you would side with her.
"That is the issue, sweetie, you did get caught." Nyla pats Summer's cheek.
Summer crossed her arms, again acting like a moody toddler.
"Let's go," you grabbed your keys off the table, "Thought you didn't wanna be late." You said to Summer, heading out the door.
With an annoyed huff, Summer gathered her things and followed you and Nyla out the door.
The three of you got into your car, the gentle purr of the engine coming to life once you put the key in the ignition, sending vibrations through the entire vehicle. Music filtered through the speakers as you pulled out of your spot and took off down the street.
"Hyuck said to make sure you turn your lights off when you're coming up," Summer relayed a message she received from Haechan once you were halfway there.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," you waved off.
You turned off your headlights once you neared the exit, moving offroad. You carefully drove into the woods on unpaved ground, heading deeper into the darkness as the distant streetlights weren't doing anything to assist your sight anymore. 
"I always hate this part," Nyla says from the passenger seat.
"Gotta make sure we don't get caught if any cops are hiding around here." You said.
"I know, but it always feels like the beginning of a horror movie. And you know the hot ones always die first," Nyla pouted.
You found the opening in the fence, worn down from being driven over so many times, and pulled into the abandoned army base, finally able to cut your lights back on.
The sound of music playing and tires screeching on the pavement could already be heard from the runway the meet was on, and you were still a few hangars away.
You slow down once you reach the crowd taking over the runway. People move out of the way as you cruise down the road, looking for a spot to park.
"Ain't that Johnny over there," Summer pointed from the backseat.
"I'd recognize that giant beanstalk anywhere," you say before honking your horn, startling the Aquarius and getting his attention.
"Wow, the princess actually graces us with her presence on this lovely night," Johnny curtsies, and you scoff.
"Just move out the way before I run your ass over." you tell him.
You backed your car into the spot next to Johnny, and your friends practically jumped out of the vehicle before you could put it in park. You hadn't even closed your door when Johnny embraced you in a tight hug. 
"Jesus, John, gonna crack a rib," you gasp.
"Feels like we don't see you at these things anymore," He let you go.
"Come on, it hasn't been that long. I was here like a few weeks ago."
"For like 20 minutes. You left before you could even see me smoke Jungwoo," he crossed his arms over his chest.
You remember that night. You had totally forgotten the assignment you had due at 11:59 and raced back home to turn it in on time.
"Shit. That's my bad. You know it's just stuff with the garage and school and…stuff," you trail off.
"Yeah, I get it," Johnny slung his arm around you, "You're doing good though, kiddo," you both started following behind Nyla and Summer as they wandered off.
"How do you figure?"
"Made it further than me. I had already dropped out by this point," Johnny said, sharing a laugh.
The music came from every direction with people displaying their boosted sound systems out of their trunks. All cars of different makes and models lined the sides of the track. The ones not focusing on the races were too busy gawking at the expensive modifications under the hoods of those showing them off.
"Last chance. Winner take all," you instantly recognize Chenle's voice over the rest of the clamor.
You watch Summer reach into her bag, giving Chenle an indescribable amount, looking proud of herself.
"Who're you betting on?" Johnny asks her. 
"Yeri, duh," she answered. 
"You sure that was a good choice?" he teases.
"Obviously. Hyuck ain't got shit on her." 
"Yeah, alright," Johnny rolled his eyes, taking a bit of offense himself.
"Where is Haechan, by the way? He's up next," Jeno says.
"Over there talking to Jaemin," Chenle nodded to the opposite side of the runway where Jaemin's car was parked.
You spotted the back of Haechan's head, speaking to Jaemin through the window of his car, probably checking the police scanner and making sure you're all still in the clear, no doubt. Then your eyes land on the guy standing next to him, recognizing his silhouette.
"Oh my god, is that-" Summer starts.
"Mark Lee?" you will your vision to focus from this distance to see clearer. "Mark's back in town and no one said anything?" you hit Johnny's arm.
"You would know if you were here." Chenle shrugged.
"I'm sorry, who is Mark?" Nyla asks.
Everyone turned and looked at Nyla.
"Mark Lee? How do you not know Mark?" Summer says, showing Nyla his Instagram.
"How did you pull that up so fast?" Renjun asks.
"Holy shit, he's good," Nyla says, impressed, and you already know Summer pulled up one of the videos of him racing.
"Better be. I taught him." Johnny smiles like a proud father. "We all go way back," he says, "Ain't that right?" Johnny nudges your arm.
Way back. 
Way back when you used to spend hours at the garage with your father after school and only knew Johnny as your father's best and favorite (unconfirmed) employee. And Mark was some boy from your high school that you didn't even know until you went to your first dig.
Way back doesn't even feel that far away anymore now seeing him. It almost feels exactly like the night you met after you snuck out to the first car meet.
"If your father knew you were here, he would lose his shit. If he found out I let you drive, he would have my head. You are not getting into any car—getting behind any wheel tonight under any circumstances. Do you understand?" Johnny said. 
"But-" 
"Aht, I mean it," he said, shooting you down before changing the subject, "You know Mark, right?" Johnny asked. 
"No, I don't know Mark." 
"Well, this is Mark," Johnny said, yanking the boy out of a conversation to introduce the both of you. "You mind keeping each other company, and make sure she stays out of..everything," Johnny not so quietly muttered to Mark. "I'm up next, so be good while I'm gone," Johnny patted your head before he hopped in his car, leaving the two of you alone. 
"I can't image he's much less of a jackass at work." Mark joked. 
"He definitely isn't. I don't think it's something he can turn off," you laughed before you looked over at him, "How'd you know I'm from the garage?" you asked. 
"Johnny said you might be here tonight. He talks about you all the time, like a little sister he's never had," Mark tells you. 
"Oh really? What else has he said?" 
"You're one hell of a driver."
"Come on, it's starting," Summer pulling on your arm, tore you out of your thoughts, and you realize Mark's no longer in your sight, having lost him in the crowd.
People gather on either side of the runway, cheering as Haechan's electric blue supra pulled up next to Yeri's lavender-wrapped GT-R at the spray-painted line that served as the starting and finish line.
Chenle stood in front of them, looking at both drivers. He raised his arms, both drivers reviving up their cars. Haechan burns out his tires, kicking up smoke behind his car before Chenle drops his arms, and both speed off past him down the road.
Through all the commotion, you spotted Mark again, and before you could even think about it, you were already weaving your way through the crowd to get to him.
"So you thought you could just come back to town and not say anything to anybody?" you say, getting his attention.
Mark's eyes light up, no longer concerned with the race upon seeing you.
"I just got in yesterday, but heard you were gonna be here tonight. So I thought I'd surprise you."
"Consider me surprised."
You take the time to notice everything about him, the things that have changed and the things that haven't. Like his hair, no longer dark with the typical schoolboy cut. It's now grown out and blonde—that was as much as you could tell from the beanie it was all tucked underneath. But nothing about his face is much different than how you remember it. Still the same soft eyes you can get yourself lost in and the sweet smile that used to bring one to your face.
"So who's your money on?" Mark asks you.
"You know I'm not throwing anything unless I really got something to lose," you say, "But if I did put my money on one of them it would definitely be Yeri. She's winning this."
"Yeah, she's a good driver but don't you know what Haechan has under his hood?"
"Yeah, but it's no match for what's under Yeri's. And I would know. I put it all together myself," you smiled proudly.
You heard the cars approaching, closing in on the finishing line. From this distance, it's hard to tell who's winning, but you aren't as eager as the rest of the crowd cheering on either side to see who would make it to the end first.
The cars blurred past you, wind whipping behind them, blowing your hair out of place a bit as you turned to Mark.
"Now would you look at that," you smiled as Yeri was announced as the winner, "I know it's been a while Mark, but the last thing you should forget is that I'm always right."
"Trust, there isn't anything about you I could forget," Mark says before excusing himself to provide Haechan with moral support.
You don't know why fluttering kicks up in your stomach at his words, and you can't fight the smirk that stretches across your face as you watch him walk away. But you try to ignore it and go to congratulate Yeri on her win.
[10:32 PM] 
"Okay but like I almost had her," Haechan continues to explain. 
You hadn't been listening to Haechan, finding yourself too entranced with looking at Mark talking to Jungwoo and Somi a few feet away from you; you didn't even notice Nyla approaching.
"So like were you two a thing?" Nyla asks, startling you.
"What? Me and Mark?" you furrow your brows, "No, no, we were just friends."
"You were close?" she asks.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that." you tell her.
"This one yours?" Mark asks, getting your attention.
"I'm standing next to it, aren't I?" you reply, running your hand over the top of your car.
"And as good as you look doing it, I just wonder if you're still as good at driving it as I remember."
"You think I lost my touch while you were away?" you push yourself away from your car, shortening the distance between the both of you.
Mark shrugs, "You tell me," he smirks.
"You know I'm more show than tell," the corners of your lips turn up.
"Is anybody else seeing this?" Nyla looks around, asking.
"Like old times?" you smile.
"Just like old times," he replies.
"For how much?" you ask.
"Let's just settle with $200 for now, nothing too serious."
"Afraid I'd clean you straight out?" you teased, "Fine by me."
Everyone's now tuned into the exchange between the two of you, a mix of reactions to what was going on with you and Mark.
"Oh shit, this is gonna be good," Haechan slid off the hood of his car, engaging in the action.
"Are they really doing this right now?" Renjun asks.
"You best believe they are. Time to make a profit—Place your bets now!" Yangyang began yelling into the crowd as you and Mark started your cars.
"You two ready?" Ten asks, standing in front of your vehicles at the starting line.
"Unless Mark's having second thoughts," you look over at Mark in his car.
Mark smirked, "Are you?"
"Hell no," you revved up your engine.
With Ten's signal, your foot hovers over the gas pedal. Bringing his hands down, you and Mark take off down the runway.
You're instantly transported back to the summer nights you and Mark spent driving around abandoned warehouses and garages.
You remember staying out for hours—most times til the sun came up, trying to perfect drifting. The amounts of tires you blew out and dents you inflicted on the car you had then led the two of you to spend your days in your father's garage, repairing the damage.
You prepare yourself for the turn coming up on the track that had been carved out. It's almost as if you and Mark move in perfect sync as you shift your gears. Your tires glide on the concrete, smoothly drifting your car around the corner, a bit of smoke trailing behind you from the burning rubber.
With as fast as you were both going, you should've expected the race to end as soon as it started. And when you both drove over the finish line, it was almost hard to tell who won. But you had Mark by a fender.
"I see you have forgot I always win too," You say to Mark as Ten hands you the money, "But that's the first real race I've had in a while, so thank you for that."
"If you're really that appreciative then how about we go again," Mark offers.
"I don't wanna take anymore of your money, Mark," you say teasingly.
He rolls his eyes before leaning out of his car, "If you really don't, how about if I win, you let me take you out."
It was the last thing you expected to hear come out of Mark's mouth. You would almost describe his demeanor as cocky, but you've seen cocky, and the confidence has never looked so good on someone.
Who is this man, and what has he done with the Mark Lee you knew? 
But you weren't going to back down just because your heartbeat picks up, and you know it's not just from the adrenaline.
"How about when I win?" you ask.
He pauses, thinking for a second before saying, "You get my car."
Your eyes light up at the proposition, "Have fun walking home tonight, Markie," you laugh.
"Bitch, if you don't let him win," Summer says, coming up to your window.
"There's no way in hell I'm doing that. Do you see that car?" you say.
"Do you see that man? He wants to take me out, who am I to put a question mark where the universe placed a period?" Nyla says, looking at Mark while he talks to Haechan.
"Look, if there are no hard feelings after I give that car a few adjustments, maybe a new paint job, and Mark still wants to take me out, he can," you shrugged.
"Trust me, he'll want to. He's been eyeing you all night." Summer hits your arm.
"Shut up, he has not," you swat her away.
"Excuse me, ladies, but if you don't mind, my man Mark has a date to win," Haechan says, making it clear who he was rooting for.
"Yeah, keep on wishing, Hyuck," Summer yelled back, "You better fucking win now." she tells you.
It was Jeno this time who stood between both cars raising his arms, giving you and Mark the signal to get set. With a nod, Jeno drops his arms, and your car accelerates, taking off, Mark right there beside you. Your entire focus was on the road ahead of you, not even Mark, who would steal glances at you from time to time.
You start getting some distance between your cars, already thinking about the new rims you'd order. But all that flies out the window when you spot a cat in the road ahead of you.
You had two choices; stop or swerve into the muddy ditch to your left, as any third option would leave someone getting hurt, so you didn't even consider it. Slamming on the breaks, you come to a quick stop as the cat stands in front of your car.
"Motherfucker," you muttered under your breath.
As Mark passed you, you swore you could've heard his laugh in the wind.
You swerved around the cat, applying heavy weight to the gas, getting back into your lane, and catching back up with Mark once you approached the turn. By the time you reached the top end, you were only about an inch away from pulling ahead of Mark's car.
You heard the distorted whirls of screams filter in through your windows as you both drove over the line, everyone cheering for the winner.
"Fuck," you whined.
You really wanted that Evo.
"Did you actually let him win?" Summer asks, stunned.
"Fuck no. There was a cat on the runway, I didn't wanna hit it," you say, slamming your door shut.
"Are you serious?" Renjun asks with a laugh.
"How the fuck else would there be a way to explain how I lost?" you say.
"You wanted to let him wi-" Johnny's cut off by Mark's hand over his mouth.
"It's true, I saw it run across," Mark attests, "But still if rules are rules and winning is winning..." he shrugs with a smile.
"You got lucky, Mark. Don't let it go to your head too much," you cross your arms over your chest.
"May be a little too late for that," Mark says, eyeing you up and down.
"Jesus, were they always like this?" Nyla asks, handing Johnny the money she placed on you.
"I have no idea where the fuck any of this came from. What am I even watching right now?" Johnny says, taking the cash.
"Hey! Did you bet against me?" you ask Johnny.
"Sorry, kid. It's just business," Johnny yells back, counting the money.
"Fucking traitor," you grumble.
Then you hear the static coming from the coms (walkie-talkies, but the boys say it's immature and insist on saying coms instead), Jisung relaying something to Chenle.
"Oh shit," Chenle said, "Cops! Cops are coming!" he yelled.
Everything stopped, and everyone scattered like roaches when the lights came on.
People were running in all different directions, jumping into anything on wheels to get away. You got into your car, searching the crowd for Nyla and Summer because you weren't gonna leave without them if they arrived with you. But you caught them getting into Jaehyun's car, so you drove away.
You heard the sirens getting closer, watching the red and blue lights flash in your rearview as you made your getaway from the old army base. Only you and a few others had the same idea of using the same way you came in to get out since the cops were coming from the main entrance, trying to round everyone up. Or at least the ones that weren't fast enough.
You cut off your headlights, driving through the woods to get to the highway, when you heard your phone vibrating in your cup holder before answering it.
"You guys okay?" you ask Nyla.
"Yeah, pretty sure everyone made it out. Where are you?" Nyla asks.
"On my way to the garage to drop the car. Then I'm going over to Johnny's."
"Alright, we'll see you there."
"Alright." you hung up.
[12:26 AM] SATURDAY 
As you walked up to Johnny's street, you could already see the partying had continued as if it was never interrupted.
Cars were double parked, taking up the entire street in front of the house. People were scattered all over the lawn, still carrying on as if you all didn't just have to run for your lives to end up here. You could already hear the music from inside Johnny's house as you walked up the front steps.
"You know, the whole point of coming over here is to lay low and not attract the attention of the cops right back to us again." you say to Johnny, finding him first on the front porch.
"It'll be fine, none of the neighbors are gonna complain," Johnny says without an ounce of worry on his face as he rolls a joint.
Before you walk into the house, you stop and ask Johnny again, "You really bet against me?"
"Look, it's not that I think he's the better racer," Johnny pauses to wet the ends of the papers with his tongue, "But you weren't gonna pass up a chance to let him take you out," he teases.
Johnny begins laughing as you hit his arm, "I told you it was the fucking cat."
You leave Johnny, still laughing, on the porch, entering the house. Making your way through the crowded hallway, you reach the kitchen, finding Nyla, Summer, and Jaehyun along with Goeun.
"Finally, what took you so long? Almost hit another cat on your way over?" Summer asks, sipping on her drink.
"Haha, very fucking funny," you spit, flipping her off.
"Here, calm down, and take this," Johnny hands you the lit joint.
"Where do you even think the cat came from? Was it alone? What if it was a mother and she had a litter? Oh my god no, we have to go back and find it," Goeun asks, making it very clear she's already a few shots in.
Now if someone brings that cat up one more time…
"Can we please just stop talking about the cat," you sigh, taking one last drag.
Passing off the joint to Jaehyun, your mind was already growing hazy, your body feeling less weighed down, and you wandered out of the kitchen. You spot Jaemin and Jeno in the backyard smoking with Somi, Mingi, and Doyeon. Somi lifts the joint toward you, offering before you tell her you're good for now. You were then drawn to the living room when you heard Haechan's voice going back and forth with another's.
"Dude, stop running me over!" Haechan complained.
"Stop getting in my way!" Sunwoo yelled back.
The two boys had planted themselves in front of the TV, quickly moving their fingers over the controls in their hands as they played GTA. Aside from the ones entertained by Hyuck and Sunwoo playing, the living room was packed with others dancing, drinking, and smoking, so you didn't even attempt to make your way through.
You spun on your heels and continued to meander around the house. But you were stopped in your tracks when you were approached by Mark.
"Peace offering?" Mark hands you a drink.
"You know I'm not actually mad about losing, Mark," you take the cup from him, sipping the contents as he leans against the walls next to you.
"Does that mean, if I would've just asked you instead; a date or my car, you would've chosen-"
"Your car, definitely," you say, "Mark, you're cute and all but your car...That's like a wet dream on wheels," you tell him, and he bursts into laughter. 
"You think I'm cute?" he asks, raising a brow at you.
It registers that that is what you said to him, even without realizing it. But it's not like it's a lie, so you don't deny it.
"I do." Always have. "And fortunately, you still have your car. So where do you plan on taking me in it?"
"I'm not telling you that."
You scoff, "Why not?"
"It's a surprise."
"I hate surprises." you whine.
"You didn't seem to hate me surprising you tonight."
"That's different."
"You'll like this one," Mark tells you.
"What if you're wrong and I hate it?"
"You won't." Mark wasn't going to crack, depriving you of the information.
"Fine. But when I imagine you've planned out the most extravagant date of the century, and it doesn't meet my expectations and turns out the be the worst date of my life, I will never let you live it down, Mark Lee," you say.
He laughed at your dramatics, "I'll take that chance."
"Can I at least know when to expect this to happen?" you ask.
"Are you free tomorrow?"
"I can be."
"Perfect. I'll pick you up at 6."
"Who gets dinner at 6. We aren't seniors, Mark."
"Who said I was just taking you dinner?" he tilts his head. 
"You've only been here about 36 hours and I've only known you're back for three of them, how could you have possibly planned something already?"
"Just gotta trust me," he says, lifting his cup to lips, "And wear something nice. Not too nice. But nice."
"Wow, Mark, that is so helpful." 
"I do what I can," he smiles at you rolling your eyes. 
Mark only breaks eye contact when he feels the intruding gaze of another.
"Okay, I don't know if it's just me, but why does Leo look like he wants to hit me with his car."
Ignoring any subtleties, you turn to find exactly what Mark was talking about. Across the room, you see Leo leaning against a wall, drinking his beer, and glaring at you and Mark. 
You scoff and wave it off, "It's nothing. He's just trying that big bad intimidating ex-boyfriend shit. Thinks it's actually gonna work and bring me right back into his arms," you sip your drink.
"No way you dated him," Mark stares at you, jaw dropped, "Jesus, I leave and you suddenly lose your taste in men."
"Shut up," you shove him with a laugh.
A soft smile comes to your face as you find yourself getting lost in Mark's eyes. That was until you were interrupted by someone calling your name to get your attention.
Mark could feel his posture correcting itself as Yeonjun approached the corner you both occupied, you with open arms.
Yeonjun was another ex of yours. But you only dated for a couple months in high school before ending things on good terms, agreeing to just stay friends.
"Should've known if there was gonna be one person to actually get you out there on the track, it would be Mark," Yeonjun says, "What's up, man," he greets Mark.
"Hey, man," Mark nods.
It's not like Mark had anything against the man. They were pretty well acquainted through you and the other mutual friends he shared with Yeonjun. But it was the little prick of a feeling some may describe as a bit of jealousy Mark gets when he sees Yeonjun with you sometimes. Especially now, considering how close you and Yeonjun were before, Mark can only imagine what it's like now, and he's suddenly regretting all the time he's missed.
"Yeah, since he's not a little bitch and can actually give me a race worth my while," you tease Yeonjun, putting a smile on Mark's face.
"Oh, I know you're not grouping me in with the rest of them," Yeonjun pointed over his shoulder, "fell for the trap last time, and it cost me a Camaro."
"Don't worry. You know she's been in good hands," you say.
"Yeah. And you wasted no time with a new paint job, I see," Yeonjun crossed his arms over his chest.
"It was very much needed. I don't know what it is with you guys and that horrendous orange," you scrunch your face.
"So pink was the obvious answer?" Yeonjun asks.
"It's fuchsia, actually. And yes, it was," you nod, making both of them laugh. 
Your exchange with Yeonjun is cut short when he hears Wooyoung calling him from the other room. 
"I'll catch you guys later. Good seeing you, Mark," Yeonjun nods at Mark as he leaves, Mark doing the same.
"So, let me get this straight; you raced me in a car you already won from Yeonjun, trying to win mine," Mark crosses his arms.
"First, you offered up your car. Second, I've never had a Mitsubishi," You say.
"Good thing I won then," he laughs, and you shoot him a death glare. "Thought there were no hard feelings," he responds to your expression.
"Don't start poking the bear, Lee."
[3:37 AM]
You and Mark barely separated from one another all night, the two of you now sitting in the backyard, still smoking the joint Jaemin left for you two to finish.
"You okay over there?" Mark's voice breaks the peaceful silence and brings you back to reality. You look over at Mark, and your face splits into a smile before you burst into laughter.
"What?" Mark starts laughing along with you.
"Nothing. Sorry I'm just.." you couldn't find the words to even describe what's going on in your head right now, "incredibly high," you sigh.
Mark continues laughing with you, soothing the embarrassment you feel prick up your spine. 
"I missed this. And I missed you," Mark says.
"Me too," you smile, "All I could think about the whole night was how much it felt like the first time we met."
"Oh, you mean the same night Johnny almost got bagged?" Mark starts laughing uncontrollably as the memory comes back.
"Yes," you begin laughing as well.
"Do you remember the panic on his face when he was running," he manages to say between gasps for air. 
"I've never seen Johnny so scared," you say, your lungs begging for oxygen as you continue to laugh.
"I heard my name, you two talking about me?" Johnny steps out onto the deck.
"Yeah, and that first meet I went to when I saved your ass from the cops," you say.
Johnny scoffed, "What are you talking about?"
"Dude, how could you not remember?" Mark asks, "It was right after you raced Changkyun and you were busy talking to Yves and Jun when the cops showed up." he says.
"But good thing you left the keys in the car and since Mark was too busy freaking out, someone had to do something," you add.
"Alright, I was not freaking out," Mark says.
"It was a mild freak out," you say to him.
"Huh," Johnny nods, looking as if he's going through the archives of his memory, "I very vaguely remember that happening," Johnny says as he lights another joint.
"Maybe if you didn't smoke so much you'd remember," you mutter, sipping your water.
"I know you're not talking," Johnny pointed at you with the spliff between his lips.
"Sungchan's passed out on the front lawn," Haechan comes outside to tell Johnny.
"Okay, find Jeno or Jae and move him upstairs," Johnny says.
"Jeno already left and no one's seen Jaehyun in a while," Haechan says.
"Shit," Johnny sighs, taking a drag, "Mark, come on," he hits Mark's shoulder.
"Now how'd I get dragged into this?" Mark asks.
"Man, just come help us get him upstairs," Johnny tells Mark. With an annoyed grumble, Mark gets up, and you laugh as Mark follows the other two back into the house.
You only went back inside to refill your cup with more water when you bumped into Yeonjun again.
"Hey, you're still here." Yeonjun says.
"Yeah," you answer with a lazy smile.
He laughs at your hazy state, "You good?"
"I'm great," you reply.
Yeonjun smiles, "Well we're about to head out. Do you need a ride home?"
You only had two choices; either walk home or crash here at Johnny's. But now Yeonjun's presenting you with this third choice, and it definitely is tempting.
But Mark.
"I'm good," you nod.
"Okay, I'll see you later."
"I'll see you," you wave as Yeonjun runs off to catch up with the rest of his friends, getting into Hwiyoung's car.
This is when you finally notice how much things have calmed down. The cars lining the streets were no longer taking up the whole block. Now, the house was cleared out of mostly everyone, save for the ones who were crashing there for the night. 
"Are you heading out?" Mark asks, coming down the stairs.
"I mean, I probably should. I'm exhausted and I've got to rest up for this big date we have tomorrow," you say.
"You're not driving, right?"
"Of course not. I'm not too far."
"I'll take you."
"Mark, you are not driving either," you say, knowing he's also been drinking and smoking.
"I know. I'm walking you," Mark says, "Let me go grab my phone," he brushes past you and back out to the backyard.
"Hey," you heard from someone else coming down the stairs.
You furrow your brows at your roommate, "You're actually still here? Where have you been all night?" You ask Nyla.
"You know…around," she answered.
It was then you noticed Nyla wearing a shirt she didn't leave the house in, but you don't say anything about it at the moment.
"You ready to go?" Mark asks you.
"Wait, you're leaving?" Nyla asks.
"Yup," you answer.
"Do you want me to go with you?" she asks.
"Do you want to go with me?" you ask her.
Before she can answer, Jaehyun comes down the stairs buttoning up a shirt he wasn't wearing before, smirking at your best friend as he walks past to the kitchen.
Nyla looked internally conflicted, so you made the decision for her. "You can stay. Mark's gonna walk me home."
"Mark, you're an angel," Nyla grabs his face. "I love you. Text me when you're home," she says to you, kissing your cheek.
"You better be using protection. I'm too young to be an auntie," you say sternly to her.
"You'd be one hot auntie, though," she winks over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.
"You sure would be," Mark mumbles as he leans against the doorframe.
"Mark, don't start with me," you glare at him as you walk out of the house.
"What do you mean?" he asks, following you.
"The Mark Lee I knew couldn't flirt to save his life. But now, you keep saying things like that and with you looking like this," you sighed, "It makes things confusing."
"How?" he asks.
"Cause you're Mark."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
You don't know how you're supposed to answer him. "I'm not telling you."
"Well, do you want me to stop?"
You took a second to answer, "No."
For a few minutes, you only walked in comfortable silence before you broke it. "So how long are you staying?" you ask.
"Don't know yet. My brother's wedding is next month so I came back to help with preparations and stuff. But I don't know, might stick around for a while after."
You gasp, "Oh my god, your brother's getting married?? No fucking way, congrats to him."
"Thanks, I'll pass it along," he smiled.
"I bet your mom's excited."
"Yeah, and fortunately for me, it's got her too preoccupied to be any way worried about my dating life," he says. "She still asks me about you, you know. Says she misses you."
"Aw, I miss her too," you pout.
Okay, so maybe you downplayed how close you really were.
From the moment you met, it didn't take much for you to become friends. Once you had realized you went to the same school and were even in some of the same classes, you grew close. Mark introduced you to all his friends, who then became your friends and vice versa. Any time he got word of a meet happening, you were always the first person he texted, saying he was already on his way to come get you. Mark would walk with you after school to your father's garage and let you teach him a few things about fixing up and modifying cars. Your families were both fond of the relationship the two of you had; Mark's inviting you to dinner almost every week, and yours never minding having Mark over for breakfast Saturday mornings.
As you turned down your street, you were then reminded of Mark's last night here. After his going away party, he walked you home just like this for the last time before he left.
"I've missed you too, Mark. Really," you tell him once you reach your house.
You hug him, and he wraps his arms around you. Hugging him now is much different than the last time you had. You had cried into his shirt, squeezing him so tight you didn't want to let him go. And a part of you wished you didn't. But at least letting go this time doesn't hurt as much as it did the last.
"Goodnight, Mark."
"Goodnight," he says.
"I'll be seeing you," you say, making your way up to the door.
"You'll be seeing me," he reassures, waiting for you to enter your house before walking back to Johnny's.
[5:43 PM] SATURDAY
"Can I get a time check?" you ask.
"Almost quarter to 6," Summer answers.
You started cursing under your breath, rushing to apply your mascara.
"Wow, I've never seen you like this?" Nyla says.
"Like what?" you ask, never taking your eyes away from the mirror.
"Nervous to go on a date with a boy," she says teasingly.
"First, I'm not nervous," you point the mascara wand at her, "Second, he's not just some boy," you turn back to your reflection.
You heard your phone vibrate with a notification and looked at the text from Mark.
[5:49 PM] mark:  omw to come get you 
Fuck. And you weren't even dressed yet.
"Shit—okay, maybe I am a little nervous," you left your vanity and threw off your robe to slip into your dress.
"You really like him, don't you?" Nyla asks.
"You don't know the half of it," Summer interjects.
"What is that supposed to mean?" you ask, struggling to zip your dress.
"Bitch, are you for real right now?" Summer deadpans, helping you with the dress, "You were so unbelievably head over heels for him in high school."
"I was not," you defended.
"You and Mark seem to be the only ones who didn't know that," she zips you up.
You couldn't think of anything to say to that, but thankfully you didn't have to anymore once your phone started ringing.
"Hello?"
"I'm outside," Mark's voice filters through the speaker.
"Fuck," you mutter, "Okay, sorry, I'm almost ready," you tell him.
"No worries, I'll still be here."
You hung up and ran around your room, looking through your closet and frantically throwing things out of the way to find your shoes. 
"I literally just saw them. Where the fuck are they?" you say to yourself.
"You mean these?" Nyla pulls the heels from under your bed.
"Thank you," you grab the shoes and slip them on.
"Damn, you look real good," Summer compliments as you finish putting on your jewelry.
"Do I really?" you ask, making sure your hair is sitting just how you want it.
"Hell yeah," Nyla agreed.
"Okay," you take a deep breath, smoothing out the silk draped over your body before leaving your room.
"Have fun!" Nyla yelled after you.
You step out of your house to find Mark leaning against a black Porsche you recognize as one of Jaehyun's instead of his signature red Mitsubishi Evolution. You would be disappointed if he didn't look so good standing next to the car.
Mark pushed himself away from the car when he saw you coming down the steps, completely in awe. Meanwhile, you were just focused on not tripping and stumbling down onto your face.
"Hi," you walk up to him. 
"Hi," he seemed speechless, "You look…shit. I mean, not like that—You just look beautiful."
"Thank you, Mark," you grin, "You're looking pretty fine yourself."
"You know, I try," he smooths out his jacket, "Shall we?" he opens the passenger door for you.
You smile as you step toward the car, Mark taking your hand, helping you in before closing the door and rushing over to the driver's side.
Once you've clicked yourself in with the seatbelt, you look up to see Mark staring at you. "What?"
"Nothing," he clears his throat, pulling off.
You tried not to get too lost in looking at Mark, staring out the window instead, trying to figure out where he was taking you. But then you feel his hand brush against yours when he reaches for the gear lever. You couldn't help it, letting your eyes wander over to him. Curtains of blonde hair hung slightly over his eyes as they were focused on the road. Your eyes drift down to the material perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, taking note of the color he chose to wear, a deep shade of blue, one of your favorite colors.
"We're here," Marks says, and you snap out of it, looking around to see where he's brought you. Mark exits the car first and comes to open your door for you.
"Mark, you didn't."
"I did," Mark smiled, "Put this on," he handed you a lanyard reading VIP.
"Where the fuck did you get these?" you ask.
He ignores your question and holds his hand out for you instead, "Come on."
You slide your hand into his and follow him toward the entrance.
As Mark leads you to your seats, you realize you're not in the packed sections with the rest of the screaming fans. But instead where most executives, family members of racers, and people with enough money to buy their way into this section were. Your eyes were as wide as continental tires as you sat down. 
"Mark…" now it was your turn to be speechless.
"Does this meet your expectations?" he asks as you look around in awe.
"No," you say, "Definitely surpassed them."
The crowd erupted into cheers as the drivers walked out to their cars.
"Oh my god," you gasp, "It's him."
Kim Jongin, or as he's famously known, Kai, walks out. He brightly smiles at the fans screaming his name and waves into the audience. You're too starstruck to move. And even think your heart has stopped beating when Kai looks in your direction.
"Mark! You made it," Kai walks over to you and Mark.
"Told you I would, man," Mark greets Kai, "I also said I would introduce you to one of the best street racers I know."
Kai looks at you, his smile never faltering as he extends his hand to shake yours.
"Holy shit," is all you can say as you shake his hand, "I'm like a huge fan," you tell Kai.
"So I've been told. I've also heard you put up some serious game out on the track," Kai says before one of his crew members calls him to his car. "I gotta run, but how about you guys stick around after the race and come down to the pit."
You're certain your jaw's already on the floor, in complete disbelief that this is happening right now.
"Yeah, for sure," Mark says.
Kai waves at you one last time before running off to the track, putting on his helmet, and jumping into his car. Once you were out of your trance, you hit Mark's arm.
"Ow!" Mark rubbed his bicep.
"Since when the fuck do you know Kai?" you ask.
"Since Kevin was just getting into the NIRA circuit. I went to one of the digs with him and that was where I met Kai."
You've been following Kai's career practically since it started back when you were a high school freshman. You probably even watched the exact meet Mark was talking about. 
"And you've just been sitting on this piece of information, waiting for what to tell me?"
"For this." Mark answers.
"I can't believe you," you mutter, turning away from him. 
[8:32 PM] 
As Kai tended to the post-race press, you and Mark waited for the first-place winner in the pit. You were busy drooling over what was under the hood of Kai's car while Mark conversed with Shohei, a pit crew member.
"So what do you think?" Kai reappears, asking you.
"I think if I was out there on the track, I'd have a reason to be scared," you say, "An FR9 engine, a nos wet fogger system, and forged pistons," you only list off the components you can see from just taking one look, impressing the racer.
"You really do know your shit," Kai smiles, "I like her," he says to Mark.
"Yeah, me too," Mark smiled at you.
"Wanna take her for a lap?" Kai asks you.
"Me?" you point to yourself, "In this?" then to the car.
"Why not?" Kai shrugs, handing you a helmet.
"She isn't exactly dressed for-" another crew member, Eunseok, started.
But you kick off your heels and grab the helmet, making sure your dress doesn't hike up your legs too high as you slide through the window to get into the race car.
"Man, she's got this," Mark reassures Eunseok as Kai gets in the car with you.
"You good in there?" you hear Mark's voice from inside the helmet.
"You know I'm more than good," you reply.
"And don't I know that for damn sure," you hear the smirk in his voice, "But I've talked you up to pretty much everyone here, so don't embarrass me," he says light-heartedly.
Your barefoot steps on the gas and a smile splits your face as you burn out the tires before accelerating. The wind whipped against your skin as you picked up speed. You felt like you were flying as Kai hysterically egged you on from the passenger seat.
Mark could hear your laughter through the com piece in your helmet, telling you're having the time of your life with the way you round the track. The car roared around the corners, and you felt the G-forces pushing you back into the seat. At the end of the lap, you pulled the car back into the pit, taking the helmet off to catch your breath.
"Now that's what I call driving!" Kai exclaimed as he got out of the car from the passenger side window.
You pulled yourself out of the seat and exited through the window. Mark was right there to help you even though he knew you didn't really need his assistance. You feel Mark's arm around your waist, the other the under your thighs, helping you out of the vehicle and letting you hold onto him to put your shoes back on.
"Between that and everything else I've been told, you better hold onto her, Mark."
"I don't think there's any other choice. She's stuck with me," Mark grabs your hand, "We should probably start leaving now before we're late." Mark says to you, looking at his watch.
"It was good seeing you again, and it truly was an honor to meet you," Kai bowed as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles.
"The honor was all mine. And you know, if you ever need a tune-up, or tires changed or even a buff, my garage always has its door opened for you," you smile.
"I'll keep that in mind," Kai nods with a smile.
"What are we even getting paid for, then?" Seunghan raised his arms.
Once back in the car, Mark weaved through the traffic of spectators leaving the stadium to get on the highway. You didn't notice Mark still holding your hand, only driving with one hand so his fingers could stay intertwined with yours until you reached the restaurant.
[9:41 PM]
"It was just so crazy. To feel that much power in the grips of my hands." you continued. You couldn't help but talk through the entirety of dinner, recounting the events of the night; Mark not minding one bit.
Mark slides his hand closer to yours across the table, taking your hand in his.
You trail off, suddenly losing focus while looking at Mark. Even in the dim candlelight of the restaurant, you can see how Mark's eyes hold the stars as he looks at you.
"You don't have to stop," Mark says, "I like listening to you," he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.
"And I just like looking at you," you say, "Still think I'm going to wake up from this dream at any moment."
"You dream about me often?" Mark asks teasingly, leaning on the table.
"Oh, Markie," you lean closer too, "You really don't know the half of it, huh?"
"Why don't you tell me then?" Mark says, his eyes falling down to your lips.
"I'd rather show you," you say before kissing him.
You were never one to really be for public displays of affection, but with Mark, here and now, it just felt right.
"I've wanted to do that ever since sophomore year," you tell him once you pull away.
"Deadass?" Mark asks, raising his brows.
You laugh at his stunned expression, "Deadass, Mark."
"So Renjun was right," he mumbles to himself.
"About what?"
"You having a crush on me in high school."
"Seems like you were the only one who didn't know," you shrug.
"Well, don't act like you didn't know I had one on you too," Mark says, and your brows raise, "Wait, really? You didn't know?" he asks.
"Of course, I didn't Mark. How was I supposed to?"
"I don't know. But I mean, it was pretty obvious," Mark says, and you scoff.
You could pretty much say the same to him. 
"God, I'm such an idiot," Mark shakes his head, and you laugh, squeezing his hand. 
"My idiot," you kiss him again.
[11:56 PM]
With the night coming to an end, you feel a slight pang of sorrow as Mark nears your house.
Mark's hand holding yours, squeezes lightly, bringing you out of your thoughts once he's parked on your street. He kissed the back of your hand before exiting the car, opening your door, and helping you out. 
You slide his jacket off your shoulders and hand it back to Mark for him to toss into the backseat.
"So," Mark starts.
"So," you take a step closer to him.
"You can truthfully tell me if it really was the worst date of your life," he said with a smile.
You roll your eyes, "Maybe it wasn't."
"Damn, it does feel good being right."
"The night isn't over. There's still time for my answer to change."
"How much time?"
You look at your phone, "Two minutes and 30 seconds."
Mark was the one to initiate the kiss this time. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against his body. You allow Mark's tongue to slip into your mouth, and he hums at the taste of your lipgloss mixed with the wine you drank. Mark pulls away so you can both catch your breath, and you rest your forehead against his.
"Well?"
"Well, this has officially been the best date I've been on," you smile.
He lifts your chin, getting you to look at him, and kisses you one last time.
"Goodnight," he says.
"Goodnight, Mark," you begin to walk up your front steps.
"Wait," Mark stops you, "This isn't gonna be a one time thing is it?"
"Do you want it to be?" you ask.
"No."
"Okay. You'll be seeing me, Mark."
"I'm counting on it."
Walking up to your door, you see the movement of the curtains in the window and shake your head as you put in your key. As expected, the moment you enter your house, you're met with Nyla and Summer waiting for you.
"Date must've gone well," Summer says.
"What makes you say so?" you ask.
"That was pretty intense between you two out on the steps, and you're still grinning like an idiot," Nyla tells you.
"I am not," you deny with said grin still plastered on your face.
[1:34 PM] MONDAY
Mark steps onto the front porch, joining the rest who were outside. He finds you among them in Johnny's driveway, working on Jungwoo's car.
"Whatcha doing?" Mark asks, approaching you.
"Jungwoo says it doesn't sound right so I'm trying to adjust the cylinders and change the air pressure intake," you say.
You might as well have been wearing an expensive white dress and standing at an altar with the way Mark's looking at you. Mark watches as you carefully maneuver your way around the engine, sure not to interfere with anything valuable.
"Try that," you tell Jungwoo, who was sitting behind the wheel.
Jungwoo started his car and revved up the engine a few times, the loud roar sounding like music to your ears. You smile, satisfied, and close the hood of the car.
"You are an angel, you know that," Jungwoo says, appreciatively kissing your cheek before wandering off.
"Yeah, I know," you smile, turning to Mark, "Hi."
"Hi." you notice Mark lick his lips as he eyes you.
"What?"
"Nothing. That was just kinda hot," Mark tells you.
"Yeah? All this sweat and grease really doing it for you?" you joke, wiping your hands with a rag.
"You're definitely doing it for me," Mark says, pulling you toward him by your waist.
Mark kisses you, and you practically melt against his lips. You have to fight the urge to run your fingers through his hair, waiting until you properly wash your hands. You circle your arms around his neck instead, but things don't get too heated as your phone starts ringing.
"You mind?" you ask Mark. He hands you your phone, and you step away to take the call. 
"Everything okay?" Mark asks as you return to him.
"Yeah," you tell him before turning to everyone in the front yard, "So, how many of you love me enough to come swing by the garage with me?" you sweetly smile at your friends.
You aren't given a direct answer, but they all move from their spots and start getting into their cars, Mark following you to yours and riding with you.
. . .
You knew signing for the delivery wouldn't have taken long, but no one seemed to be in a rush to leave as they all busied themselves around the autobody shop. 
"Damn I really have missed this place," Mark says, looking around with a soft smile. 
"You know you've been equally missed," you tell him.
"Say it ain't so. Mark Lee, is that you?" you hear your dad's voice behind you.
"Yes, sir," Mark extends his arm to shake your dad's hand.
You try to continue focusing on the paperwork in front of you as the two exchange small talk before your dad mentions having Mark over for dinner.
"Oh, I couldn't impose-" Mark started.
"It wasn't imposing before, and it still isn't now," your dad says, "Your mom would love to have him over for dinner," he says to you.
"She would," you agree.
"Great, come over next Wednesday," he tells Mark before Soojin pulls your dad away to deal with a customer.
"Come with me," you round the desk and take Mark's hand. 
Mark follows your lead through the shop as you take him to where some of your friends congregated around Shotaro's station. 
"Hey, Taro. You busy?" you ask, getting his attention.
"Not really," Shotaro says. 
"Mark, this is Shotaro. Shotaro, this is Mark." you introduce them.
The Sagittarius' eyes widen as he extends his hand to Mark, "Holy shit, I've seen you race. You're like a god."
"Wow, thank-" Mark begins.
"Alright, I wouldn't say all that," you say.
"Have you seen him drive?" Shotaro asks.
"Of course, he's the only person that can keep up with me. But he usually never beats me over that line," you say with half a smirk.
Shotaro's brows furrow, "Wait, you race?"
Having only been working here a few months, you don't blame Shotaro for not knowing.
"I don't as much as I used to," you say.
"This isn't the first time I've heard this. Why is that?" Mark asks.
You shrug. "I don't know. I guess between school and helping manage this place I kinda lost my enthusiasm about it," you look down at the spare tire on the ground, softly kicking it, suddenly feeling everyone's eyes on you, "And it kinda just wasn't the same without you."
Mark looks as if he's endeared by what you've said. But you clear your throat and quickly change the subject.
"But anyway, how did the dry system hold up?" You ask Shotaro.
"Pretty good. Better than my last one," Shotaro tells you, lifting the hood of his car.
"Holy shit, where did you find these parts?" Mark asks as a few of you gather around the automobile. 
"Only knew one place to find them. So I had them imported from Yokohama," Shotaro says.
"Shotaro, you're definitely riding with us to race wars," Hendery says. 
"You guys are going too?" Shotaro asks.
"Yeah. Actually, speaking of, how many of us are going to race wars?" Jaehyun asks.
You and Mark used to talk about going to race wars all the time but never got the chance to when you were in high school because your parents would never let you. And by the time you were able to go, Mark wasn't there to be with you, so it just didn't have the same feeling without him.
"Pretty sure all of us here. Probably the rest of the others, too," Jeno says.
"Mark, you're coming?" Jisung asks.
"When is it?" Mark asks.
"It's supposed to be the beginning of next month, but the exact date and location haven't been posted yet. I'll let you know once I find out," Jaemin says.
"Okay," Mark nods, "As long as it doesn't interfere with my brother's wedding, I'll go."
"You could always not go?" Chenle jokes.
"Dude, he's my brother, and I'm the best man."
Everyone now turns their attention to Mark.
"What the fuck? Since when?" Ten asks.
"Since I found out my brother was engaged," Mark answers.
"So you just don't tell anyone shit around here anymore?" you joke.
Mark playfully rolls his eyes, poking his cheek with his tongue.
God, why is he so hot. 
You curl your arms around his, "Mark, you have to come. We've always wanted to go together," you pout.
"I know, I know," Mark holds your hand, "If I can, I will. I promise."
That was good enough for you for now.
"Okay."
[6:50 PM] THURSDAY
"Hello?" you answer the phone.
"You still at the garage?" Mark asks.
"Yeah, but I'm about to leave in a few minutes."
"Wanna come over to my place? Watch a movie and maybe drink this bottle of wine I have sitting in front of me."
"I'll need to go home and shower first. I'm all sweaty and greasy," you say.
"I don't really mind. Sweat, grease, and all."
"Well, I do. So I'll be over in an hour."
Mark kisses his teeth, "Fine."
[8:02 PM] 
Pulling up to Mark's house, you don't know why you expected it to be any different than how you remember it. But it was the same color and layout and even still had the dent in the garage door from when Yuta accidentally backed into it.
Mark answers the door wearing an old t-shirt, shorts, and glasses. Those goddamn glasses. 
"Hi," Mark smiles at you.
"Hi," you step into the house, allowing Mark to pull you in for a kiss. "You miss me or something?" you ask.
"Guess you can say that."
Slipping off your shoes and jacket, you follow Mark into the living room.
"Your parents here?" you ask.
"Nah, they went with my brother to meet the future in-laws," Mark answers. "You want a glass?" he points to the wine bottle sitting on the table.
"Yes, please," you sigh, collapsing onto the couch.
"Long day?"
"Yeah, but it's nothing I'm not used to." you take the wineglass he hands you.
Mark listens to you go on about your day after he asks, only briefly interrupted when he goes to answer the door for the delivery of the food you didn't even know he ordered. After eating your fill of pizza, you continue to watch the movie. You notice how much closer you are now than when you first arrived. You went from sitting right next to Mark to being seated between his legs, your back against his chest.
"Now, I gotta ask, who's your favorite?"
"Spider-man? Garfield for sure. I love the other two but The Amazing Spider-Man has a special place in my heart," you hold your hand over your chest.
"You were supposed to say me," Mark grumbles, rolling his eyes.
You laugh, turning to him, "Mark, you only dressed up once senior year, and that's cause you lost a bet."
"But you can't say I don't make a good Peter Parker," he says.
"Only if I can be your MJ," you joke.
Mark closes the space between you, softly pressing his lips to yours. Having seen No Way Home enough times opening weekend, you didn't mind Mark distracting you from the rest of the movie. You reposition yourself to straddle him and bring your lips back to his. The hands Mark has on your hips move down to cup your ass. Then you start laughing.
"Sorry, did I overstep?" Mark asks, moving his hands away.
"No, you didn't. It's just..nothing, sorry," you apologize. 
You start kissing him, cupping his face before you feel his two hands on your ass again, unable to stop the giggles bubbling in your throat.
"What?" Mark can't help but laugh now. 
"I'm sorry. I just can't stop thinking about your hands on my ass."
"What's so funny about that?" he asks.
"Nothing. It's just, I can't believe my best friend, Mark Lee, is kissing me with his hands on my ass," you cover your eyes, trying to explain. You shake your head, trying not to overthink this too much. "I swear I'm not laughing at you. I'm just nervous, I guess."
"What for?"
"Because it's you," you say, peaking at him through your fingers.
"I make you that nervous, baby?" Mark pulls your hands away from your face with a crooked smile. 
Is he trying to make you spontaneously combust?? 
"Maybe," you answer.
"Think I can do something to change that," he says, "Come here," he juts his chin toward you, signaling you to kiss him.
You let all thoughts fade away as you leaned into Mark. You grab the sides of his face, pressing your lips to him.
Mark keeps his hands off you until he can practically feel the desperation in your body, letting your hands roam all over him.
Feeling Mark's hands slide up your thighs to your ass made you softly moan into his mouth as he pressed you into his groin.
"Mark…" you breathe shakily.
"You need something?"
"Yeah, you."
You could hear your heart banging against your chest like a drum as you followed Mark up the stairs to his room, your hand in his.
Entering his room, you can see it hasn't changed much either. The same posters are still on the walls, his guitar sitting in its designated corner by his bed, and the small piles of clothes scattered over the floor. You didn't have the chance to get a good look at much else as Mark's lips were back on yours once he closed the door.
The backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed before you fall down onto it. Mark looks down at you lying on his bed, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips, taking his glasses off, and tossing them onto the bed. Mark grabs one of your legs, making space between them for himself, bringing his lips back to yours. Once he starts kissing your neck, you know you're already done for. 
"Mark, please," you arch into his touch.
"What, baby?"
"Touch me."
"I am touching you," he smirks, nipping at your jaw.
"God, since when were you such a fucking tease," you say, making him laugh.
"You mean here?" he asks, cupping your sex.
"Mhm," you tug your teeth between your teeth, nodding.
Mark looks into your eyes as he undoes the string of your sweatpants, making sure this is okay. When you don't tell him to stop, Mark slips his hand into your pants, pressing his fingers to the damp cotton, still acting as a barrier, keeping you from what you want.
"You this wet for me, princess?"
You shutter at his use of the pet name, "Yes."
"Mmm," he hums, watching your body react to the smallest of his touches. Mark then pulls your underwear to the side and teases your silt with his middle finger. Your jaw drops, silently moaning when you feel one of his fingers breach your walls. 
"Damn, baby, you're soaking for me," Mark smirks against your navel, moving your shirt out of his way as he kisses his way up your stomach.
"Mark, don't say things like that," you whine.
"Why?"
"Cause it's turning me on even more," you roll your hips into his hand.
"That doesn't sound like a reason to stop to me," he stopped kissing your skin once he reached your sternum, "Do you want me to stop?"
"No."
"Good. I'm only getting started," Mark pulls his hand away.
Before you could even protest, Mark's tugging your sweats down your legs, your panties along with them, getting you to lift your hips so he could throw them to the floor. You watch Mark lower himself to his knees on the floor before the bed, directing each of your legs over his shoulders. He softly kisses your inner thighs, nipping your sensitive skin between his teeth.
Mark pulls you closer to his face, looking up at you with eyes blown wide with lust. You try to keep your composure when Mark's tongue licks a fat stripe up your slit. Mark moans at the taste of you, and holds your legs apart as he buries his head between your thighs. Your small whimpers gradually grow into cries of Mark's name as he brings his fingers back to your core, slowly sinking two digits into your pussy.
"Fuck, that feels so good," you comb your fingers through his hair as he catches your clit between his lips.
Your back arches into the air, and you tug harshly on his roots, making him groan into your pussy. Mark's middle and ring finger curl against your velvety walls, moving in a come hither motion once he finds your sweet spot. Between the movements of his head and his fingers pumping in and out of you, you can feel the coil in your stomach tighten.
"Mark.." you sharply moan, "P-Please, don't stop," you beg.
Mark could feel his shorts growing uncomfortably tight the more he heard you moan and felt your pussy flutter around his fingers.
"You wanna cum for me, pretty girl?"
"Yes, Mark, please."
If your eyes didn't flutter shut, you would've caught the smirk on his face before he attacked your clit with his tongue.
At this point, you're no longer able to form full sentences. Mark's mouth makes you lose your senses and every coherent thought you have.
Mark's fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, keeping you from squirming too much as he eats you out like a man feasting after days of starving. 
"Oh my god!" your eyes roll back, "M'gonna cum," you warn through a whimper.
Mark never let up. The pace of his fingers picking up and his tongue flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves had your toes curling. Your legs closed around his head once your orgasm hit you. Your cries and trembling legs went unnoticed by Mark as he was too enamored with the feeling and taste of you in his mouth.
"Mark, Mark, Mark," you whine, softly pushing his head away.
You open your eyes to find Mark with his fingers in his mouth, licking your slick off them. Even through your fatigue, seeing him with messy hair from you pulling on it and his face glistening with your juices reignited your insatiable desire for him.
"You okay?"
"Okay? Am I okay?" you raise a brow, "Mark, I can't remember the last time someone made me cum like that from just going down on me," you throw your arm over your eyes, still coming down from your high.
"I'm glad to be of service, then," he moves your arm away, kissing you.
You tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning around his tongue when it clashes with your own, tasting yourself on his lips.
You flip Mark onto the bed without breaking the kiss, and he rests his hands on your thighs, roughly kneading your flesh. You hum, feeling his hard clothed cock resting between your folds, Mark grabbing your ass to get you to roll your hips into his, letting a sound that closely resembles a whine climb up his throat.
Mark chases after your lips when you pull away, opening his eyes to see you admiring him.
"You're so pretty, Mark," you say, softly brushing his hair out of his eyes, and you swear you heard a whimper slip from his swollen lips.
Mark blushes, turning away from you so you don't notice. But you do. You grab his jaw, making him look at you, and pull him close enough, your lips to ghost over his.
"My pretty boy," you kiss his lips.
His cock stirs beneath you as you kiss your way down his neck. You tug on the collar of his shirt, getting Mark to pull it over his head, throwing it to the floor next to your clothes. You run your hand down his toned chest, a light trail of hair on his lower stomach disappearing into his shorts.
"Can I?" you ask, hooking your finger in the waistband of his shorts.
"Yeah," Mark nods.
Once his pants are off, you're both left in only one piece of clothing; his boxers and your shirt.
You kneel between his legs while Mark sits back on his hands, just watching you. Resting your hand on his leg, you softly squeeze his thigh before slowly sliding over to the bulge in his underwear. Palming the outline of his heavy cock has Mark tilting his head back, but not too much so he can still watch you as you waste no more time and release his dick from its confinements.
Your eyes widen, and the corners of your lips twitch, seeing his cock spring free, lightly slapping against his lower stomach. Precum dribbles from his slit and your mouth practically waters. You wrap your fingers around his length, smearing the beads of precum with your thumb. His cock twitches in your grasp, a raspy groan falling from his lips and shooting straight to your core.
"Mark, please tell me you have a condom somewhere in this house," you look at him through your lashes.
"Second drawer," he nods to his nightstand.
"Were you stocking up for this?" you ask, finding the industrial-sized box.
"No," Mark laughs, "Donghyuck 'gifted' that to me after our first date."
"Now, why would he do that?" you ask, straddling his thigh.
You already know your friend can have a perverted way of thinking, but you wanted to hear Mark's reasoning.
"Cause I couldn't stop talking about you in that fucking dress," he grips your waist, "Let's just say it was a lot harder to keep my gentlemanly manners than I thought it would be that night."
"As much as I appreciated the consideration," you say, "I wore that dress hoping you would've taken it off me," you lean into his ear.
"Fuck me," Mark groans under his breath and digs his fingers into your hips.
You grin, kissing him. Since you're distracted, Mark snatches the condom from your hand and pushes you onto your back. He sits back on his haunches, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and tears the package with his teeth before rolling the latex on and pumping his cock in his hands a few times.
Laying there with your hair splayed out on the pillows, your bottom lip between your teeth, and your thighs desperately itching to rub together at the sight of the man before you, Mark slowly begins losing his grip on any sort of restraint he has left. Mark wraps his arms under your thighs, pulling your hips closer to his. You can feel yourself growing wetter by the second as Mark keeps his eyes locked with yours, rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds. 
"Mark, please," your voice was barely above a whisper, yet Mark still heard the traces of desperation. 
The blunt head of his cock presses against your slit before being enveloped by your slick pussy. He takes his time easing into you as your walls open up for him.
"Oh, god—Mark," you choke out, feeling the way you have to adjust to his size.
"I know, I know, baby," Mark coos, "It's okay. Just relax for me," he soothed his hand up and down your leg.
You nod, and Mark starts kissing your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tipping back to give him more access to mark up the side of your throat. As Mark sinks his teeth into your skin and can feel how incredibly wet you become, your pussy practically sucking him the rest of the way in.
"How're you doing, princess?" Mark kisses his way back up your neck. 
"Fuck, Mark, you feel so big," you roll your head back onto his pillow. Mark smiles, peppering your face with kisses while whispering sweet praises. 
"Let's just take it slow then, okay," he says, slowly drawing his hips back.
The feeling of his cock dragging against your walls as he slowly left your heat, only to fill you up again, had your eyes rolling back. 
"I feel so…you make me feel so—Full," you stumble over your words, moaning. 
The chuckle that leaves his lips leads a new wave of arousal to flood through your body and clench around him.
"And you're doing so good for me," he kisses your jaw. Mark continues slowly moving his hips, using deep sensual strokes to fuck you. Now fully submerged in pleasure, you beg Mark for more.
Mark grabs your leg hooked around his hip and begins picking up his rhythm. Bringing his eyes down to where your bodies were connected, he watches his dick disappear between your folds. Mark's shallow pants slowly transition into broken whimpers. You're just barely holding on, and Mark continues coaxing you closer to the edge.
"You're making me feel so good, Mark," you tell him.
Mark tries to conceal his noises, burying his head in your neck, but you disapprove. 
"Come on, Markie," you direct his face to look at you, "I wanna hear you, pretty boy," you grin, running your thumb along his bottom lip.
"Fuck~" he whines.
"Don't stop, baby, m'so close," you say.
"M-Me too—fuck, you feel so good," his voice fluctuates.
"S'all for you, pretty boy," you tell him, and you almost cum from his whimpers alone.
"God, stop calling me that," Mark pants, screwing his eyes shut.
"Why?" you smirk, bringing your fingers beneath his chin to make him look at you.
Damp strands of blonde hair hung in his face as he opened his lust-filled eyes, "I won't be able to last any longer," he answers.
"You gonna cum for me, Mark?" you roll your hips into his, making him deeply groan.
Mark holds your jaw with one hand, keeping intimate eye contact as he repeatedly thrusts into you. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip before pushing his finger into your mouth, and you eagerly accept.
"Not until you cum for me first," he says, sliding his thumb out of your mouth and bringing it to your clit.
"Oh—fuck, Mark, please," you cry.
Mark lowers himself to kiss you, muffling both of your sweet noises.
You frantically search for something to grab onto, finding Mark's shoulders first as you cum. Your pussy clamps around his cock, sending Mark into his own orgasm. Soft, breathy moans fill your ears as Mark's hips stutter, and he fills the condom with his cum.
"Holy shit," he drops his head to your shoulder.
You softly run your fingers through the strands of his sweaty hair as he kisses your damp skin. Pressing his lips to the side of your neck, Mark finds your lips meeting in a lazy kiss.
"Wait here," he tells you, the huskiness of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
You whimper as he slips his cock out of the pulsating warmth of your pussy, leaving you clenching around nothing.
After tossing the condom into the trash and slipping his boxers back on, you watch Mark shuffle out of the room. He returns with a wet cloth, pulling your legs apart and wiping away the stickiness clinging to your folds.
"Are you okay?" Mark asks. 
"Yeah."
"You're very quiet," he lays down next to you. 
"I'm thinking," you say, turning in his direction. 
"About?"
"You," you answer, "There's no going back after this, Mark."
"Are you okay with that?"
"Am I?" you smile, "I'm not saying that cause I regret this, Mark. I'm saying this as a warning cause it'll be harder for you to get rid of me now," you wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek. 
Mark laughs, resting his hands on your lower back. "I can't image I would ever want to anyway," he kisses you.
[9:43 PM] SATURDAY 
"No one even knew Yuta was back in town until today, how did so many people find out?" Summer says as your car nears the entrance to the parking garage.
It had taken you nearly ten minutes to move up in the line of cars that had formed. You're just glad you got here when you did, considering that the line was now streaming down the street.
Since Yuta had sent out the location at practically the last minute, you weren't expecting the dig to have this big of a turnout. You don't even know how Yuta set it up, but since the renovations to the parking garage weren't nearly finished yet, it was closed off from the rest of the public. Which meant for you, it was the perfect place for races to be conducted without having to worry about any civilians.
You finally reach the barrier gate where Yunho and Changbin are standing post.
"Hey, Sunny," Changbin says to Summer.
"Hi, Binnie," she sweetly smiles as she hands him the money for the entry fee, "I'll see you in there?" she asks.
"Yeah," Changbin smiles, "You're good to go, y/n." he nods to you.
"Okay, what the fuck was that?" Nyla asks Summer as you start following the cars down to the underground level.
"What?" Summer asks.
"You and Binnie?" You raise your brows, "When did that start?"
"It's nothing. We're just friends."
You and Nyla share a glance in your rearview mirror. "Sure, whatever you say," Nyla drops it.
Just as you reach the bottom level, you see Haechan driving in the opposite direction, and you roll down your window to talk to him. 
"Where are you guys going, we just got here?" you ask Haechan.
"Damien called Jaemin out," Hyuck tells you, "Come on," he waves at you to follow him.  
You tail Haechan's car up to the third level and easily find a few more of your friends, or rather their cars, knowing they're somewhere close by. Parking between Jungwoo and Xiaojun's cars, you gravitate toward the cluster of your friends, spotting a mop of silky jet-black hair among them.  
"Yuta!" you walk up with open arms to be embraced in a hug.
"I know I was only gone for two weeks but seems like I've missed a lot anyway," Yuta says, "So, where is lover boy Mark?"
"He's on his way," you say. 
"I can't believe it took all these years for you two to finally get together," he teased.
"I'm starting to get tired of hearing this," you roll your eyes playfully. 
"Well, it's true. You two were so ridiculously down bad for one another," Yuta teases, and you lightly hit his arm.
More people begin filling in as they anticipate the race about to go down. Jaemin's car sits at the starting point, along with Damien's. Now the only thing you're left waiting for is Johnny, Yangyang, Hendery, and Jaehyun to set up their positions around the so-called track.
"Fuck this," your impatience gets the best of you, and you snatch the walkie-talkie from Chenle's back pocket, "Are we ready?" you ask.
"Track's all clear, we're good to go," Johnny responds to you. 
Once you have confirmation from all five groups, you take the lead and stand in front of the cars. 
"You guys already know the rules. It's five levels from here to the top. Whoever makes it there first, wins," you clarify, "Ready?" you ask Jaemin and Damien. 
They both nod and you motion for them to inch their cars up just a bit so their bumpers line up exactly. You raise your hands, and the crowd begins cheering as both cars rev up. You drop your arms, and you're engulfed in the smoke their burnouts left behind as the cars whipped past you. As everyone else runs for the elevator and stairs to get to the rooftop before Jaemin and Damien do, there's only one person not moving along with the herds of people, walking toward you instead.
"You're probably the hottest race marshal I've ever seen," Mark says as you turn on your heels, almost crashing right into him.
"Mark," your face splits into a smile, cupping his face and kissing his lips.
"Miss me, baby?" he asks with a chuckle.
"Yeah, pretty boy," you tease.
Mark kisses you again, firmly keeping one hand on your lower back.
"Hey! Y'all can suck faces later, but get your asses in here now!" Summer yells from the elevator. 
Remembering the race, you grab Mark's hand, run into the elevator, and head for the top floor. 
Since Yangyang and Jaehyun were exclusively live-streaming the entire race for people to watch from the different levels they were on, everyone's eyes were glued to their phones, waiting for Jaemin and Damien to reach the top. You all watch from Jisung's phone as Jaemin takes the lead once he passes Ten on the sixth floor, drifting the turn up to the seventh, and you smile proudly since you had been the one who taught him how to in the first place.
You can hear the tires screeching and the deep resonance of the engines making their way up each floor. Hitting one last turn and perfectly timing his gear shift, Jaemin drifts his car up the ramp. The cheers of the crowd were deafening as everyone celebrated Jaemin's win, even himself, with a few victory donuts.
You would've been right there alongside everyone else, congratulating Jaemin on his win if Mark hadn't used this chance while everyone was distracted and not paying attention to either of you.
Your back meets a concrete wall with a soft thud while Mark's lips attack yours.
"What's with you, Markie?" You ask.
A low groan rumbles in his chest, "You're just so…fucking beautiful."
"Thank you, baby," you kiss his nose.
"Hey, Mark!" someone calls him, "How about you lay off your girl for a bit and let us see if you're still the big shot you thought you were in high school," Sean says.
You turn to Sean with your brows raised. The only thing holding you back from wiping that snarky grin off his face is Mark's arm still wrapped around you.
Mark's entire demeanor was calm as he nodded at Sean, "Alright. Me and you, right now," Mark says.
You follow Mark back down to the ground floor to get his car, riding with him. He holds your hand the entire drive back up to the third level, where spectators had already lined the pathway, expecting the next race.
"Do I really need to wish you luck?" you ask Mark as you look over at Sean overconfidently revving up his engine.
"I know I can take him. But I'd still appreciate it from you."
"Baby, you got this," you kiss his lips.
Mark watches as you sit back and lift your hips, reaching under your skirt to pull your panties down your legs. You hand the bunched-up lace to Mark, leaning over to his ear. "But just hold onto these just in case. Your good luck charm," you smirk.
Mark chuckles as he shoves your underwear into his pocket, looking over at you with a smile playing on his lips. "You just wait until I can get you alone," Mark pulls you in for one last kiss before you get out of his car.
You join everyone else on the sidelines as Yuta riles the crowd up. Mark looks over at you and winks. Yuta raises his arms, and Sean dramatically burns out his tires while Mark comfortably sits back in his seat. With him looking so relaxed, settling into his element behind the wheel makes heat pool in your lower stomach. Subtly pressing your thighs together, you begin to regret handing over your underwear, feeling the warmth between your legs.
"Go!" Yuta yells, and both cars take off. Summer grabs your hand, leading you to the elevator to head back up to the top floor.
As you all wait for Mark and Sean's cars to near the final level, the door to the stairwell swings open, and Nyla trudges through, making her way over to you all.
"Why're you out of breath?" Jeno asks, receiving a glare from Nyla.
"Jae and I were on the fourth floor, and those steps.." she gasps, "are no joke." Once she finally catches her breath, Nyla tells you, "I left my bag in your car, I need your keys."
You reach into your skirt pocket and pluck out your keys, handing them to Nyla before she heads for the elevator. Turning your attention back to the race, you recognize the sound of Mark's engine, and you smile as his car drifts up the ramp, beating Sean. Mark's tires screech against the pavement before he takes his foot off the gas and gets out of his car. The crowd rushes Mark, celebrating his win, you along with them.
"I told you you had him," you say to Mark.
"I'll say it was your good luck charm that secured it," he smirked.
But all the celebrating is cut short when you see people running before you hear the sirens making their way up the levels of the garage, and Mark instinctively grabs your hand.
"And I think that's our cue," Renjun grabs his drink and gets into Jeno's car.
It's hard to tell which direction the sirens are coming from as the sound bounces off every surface in the open space.
"Get in," Mark says to you, Summer, and Jisung.
You trust Nyla enough with your car to not even be concerned about it and jump into the passenger seat. Mark wastes no time shifting into drive once you're all inside and starts looking for an escape route. He avoids the exit everyone else was trying to leave from as a traffic jam starts building up, and people honking their horns isn't helping to get things moving.
"Is that Chenle?" you hear Summer ask from the backseat. You then turn your head to see the blue and red lights shadowing Chenle's silhouette as he runs toward Mark's car.
"Dude, come on!" Jisung yells to Chenle, opening the door.
Chenle dives head-first into the back seat, throwing himself across Summer and Jisung's laps.
"Go, go, go!" Chenle exclaims. Mark presses his foot on the gas and begins speeding away.
Finally finding a clear exit, Mark floors it before yanking his e-break as a police car turns the corner. You hear the cops' megaphone telling Mark to stop driving and for all of you to get out of the vehicle.
"Mark," you call him warily.
"I know," he shifts gears, "Hold on," he says, reversing the car, looking through the rear windshield over his shoulder, and putting his hand behind the headrest of your seat.
Mark expertly drives his car backward, turning the wheel with one hand, and the police continue to chase after you before Mark reaches another exit. Ending up back on the city streets, you lose the police tail, and you feel a sigh of relief throughout the entire car.
"Yeah I'm with her, Mark, Chenle, and Jisung," you hear Summer say. "Ningning's with Nyla and they have your car," she tells you as she's on the phone.
"Thank god. Tell them to bring it to Johnny's."
"They're already on their way."
Mark's car drives up to Johnny's house around the same time everyone else arrives. Just like always, the party goes on as if nothing had happened. Summer, Jisung, and Chenle get out of the car, Chenle already retelling the events of what just happened to Yangyang and Haechan when they meet in the front yard.
You and Mark don't get out yet, the two of you just silently holding each other's gaze. Mark had one hand lazily thrown over the wheel, sitting back in his seat as he eyed you.
"Mark, get out of the car," you tell him.
"Why?" Mark asks.
"Between the way you just handled that and the way you're looking at me right now, I can't promise I can hold myself back any longer."
Mark's eyes drift down from your face, tugging his lip between his teeth. The corners of his lips curl up as he takes his car out of park. Mark pulls his car into Johnny's garage, and the party fades into a dull hum once the door shuts. You and Mark are now alone, only in the presence of the other dormant vehicles in the garage. 
Mark turns his car off, and you push yourself out of your seat, leaning over the console to kiss him. Mark's hand blindly fumbles with the seat adjuster to move his seat back and allow you to climb into his lap. 
"What's gotten into you?" Mark asks, smiling against your lips. 
"You," you card your fingers through the soft blonde curls, "Mark, you're just so..hot," you roll your hips into his. Mark's hands slide up your thighs, slipping under your skirt. You can already feel the wetness dripping onto Mark's jeans, the rough material deliciously dragging against your clit. You moan around Mark's tongue, and he grips your body tighter. You accidentally lean against the wheel, hitting the horn, startling yourself and Mark.
Mark laughs along with you, "Backseat?"
"Backseat," you nod before climbing into the back of his car.
Now with more room, you grab Mark and comfortably settle in his lap. You feel the bulge in his jeans against your inner thigh and roll your hips into his. Mark's head falls back against the window, and you take the opportunity to kiss his neck. Mark's eyes flutter shut as you cradle the back of his head and sink your teeth into his skin. The moan that falls from his lips causes you to get wetter.
"Mark?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"Can I?" you ask, slipping your hand between your bodies and palming him through his pants.
"Yeah."
You slide out of his lap and quickly undo the button of his jeans. You waste no time trying to get his clothes off and just pull his cock out of his underwear, your mouth already salivating.
"Oh, Mark," you clench your thighs together, "You're so pretty."
His breathing becomes shallow as he says, "Thank you."
"You're welcome, baby," you kiss the tip of his cock before kitten-licking the drips of precum leaking down his shaft.
Mark sharply gasps, and the grin on your face grows bigger. You let spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his dick to assist your hand, jerking him. You wrap your lips around the sensitive tip, slowly sucking him into your mouth. Mark softly groans, placing his hand on your head. He brushes your hair out of the way so he can see your face.
"My god, look at you," he swipes a string of spit hanging from your lips when you come up for air. You playfully bite his thumb before taking his cock back into your mouth.
Hearing Mark's heavy breathing slowly turn into breathy whimpers encourages you to take more of him down your throat. You feel one of Mark's hands sliding down your back, flipping your skirt over your ass. He dips a finger into your pussy, humming approvingly when he feels how wet you are.
You are grateful his windows were tinted well past the legal limit just in case someone drunkenly stumbled into the garage.
"You get this wet from just sucking my dick, princess?" Mark smirks as he plays with your folds. "Such a dirty dirty girl," he calls you, making you moan around his cock and clench around his fingers. You lose focus and drop your head to his thigh.
"Mark," you whine as he curls his two fingers against your soft walls.
"Come on, baby," he strokes your head, "You're doing so good for me."
You slide his cock back into your mouth upon his words, swirling your tongue around the tip. Mark rests his head against the foggy window and utters soft praises between moans.
You smile, "You sound so pretty for me, Mark,"
"Feels so good," he tells you.
"Gonna cum for me, pretty boy?"
"Yes."
You ignore the burn in your arm and pump his cock faster in your hand. "Cum for me, Mark. I know you want to."
"I do, I do—fuck—I do," his voice cracks.
Your name mixed with his moans, had you dripping down your thighs. You bob your head to the same rhythm as your hand. Mark's thighs twitch, and he bucks his hips against your face. You feel the warmth filling your mouth as Mark cums. Waiting until you feel his cock soften against your tongue, you pull yourself off him and swallow his cum.
"Fuck," he sighs, "You're so good to me."
"Anything for my pretty boy," you kiss him.
Mark grabs the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He pushes his tongue past your lips, tasting the lingering saltiness in your mouth. Mark pulls you back on top of him to straddle his thigh. You start grinding your hips against his denim-clad leg.
"As much as I like having you beneath me I think I like seeing you on top of me more," Mark says, looking up at you. "That feel good, princess?" he asks, purposely flexing his thigh.
"Yes," you whimper.
"You that desperate, you gotta fuck yourself on my thigh like this?"
"For you, yes," you tell him.
Mark cups your ass beginning to direct your movements as he holds eye contact with you. You can't take it anymore and bury your head in his neck. "What's wrong, baby?"
"I'm gonna cum," you mumble against his throat.
"Already?" he teases. Mark pulls your face out of the crook of his neck. "Let me see your pretty face when you cum for me."
"Mark," you grab onto his shoulders.
"Yeah, sweetheart? Say my name."
"Mark, please."
You throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your manicured nails into Mark's skin.
"That's it, baby. That's my good girl," he rubs his hands up your thighs, and you continue to ride out your high.
You slump against Mark's body, and he holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back.
"That was so hot." Mark says.
You smile into the kiss, "The things you do to me, Mark Lee."
You hear a knock on the door, and Mark rolls down the window just a crack to see who it is.
"Yes?" you say to Johnny, standing outside the car.
"In my garage? Really?" Johnny placed his hands on his hips like a disappointed father.
"It's my car," Mark says.
"In my garage."
"Jesus, here he goes."
"We'll be out in a sec." you say to Johnny before rolling the window back up.
"I'm not finished with you yet," Mark says as he buttons up his jeans.
"Neither am I," You grab his hand as you exit the garage and head toward the house, "And I mean…Johnny does have four other spare bedrooms," you say, and Mark smirks at you, following you into the house.
[11:25 PM] WEDNESDAY 
"Are you sure you like it?" Mark asks you for what seems like the fifth time tonight.
"Mark, why would I lie to you?" you ask.
"I don't know, you just seemed to love the blonde so much," he says, running his fingers through his silky dark hair.
Knowing Mark was planning on dying his hair back before his brother's wedding and seeing how his roots started to grow, you should've expected the change sooner rather than later. But still, you were surprised when he showed up at your parent's house for dinner, and you answered the door to find the brunette instead of the blonde you were expecting.
"Yeah, but you're still pretty, babe," you comb your fingers through his hair, making him lean into your touch.
"Thank you," he sheepishly smiles, lowering his head, attempting to hide the blush from the others rather than you. "So, I have a question for you," Mark says.
"What is it?" you ask.
"How would you like to-"
"Race wars date and location just dropped," Jaemin announces, standing from his seat.
With all of you sitting around the living room, you all wait for Jaemin to tell you.
"Well, are you gonna tell us?" Jeno asks impatiently.
"Not with that attitude," Jaemin scoffs. He clears his throat as if he's making an official announcement, stating the location before saying the date, "It starts next Friday-"
"Next Friday? Like the Friday after this one?" Mark asks.
"That is…what next Friday means?" Jaemin says.
"Mark, no," you start.
"I'm sorry," Mark looks at you apologetically.
"Wait, what?" Nyla asks.
"My brother's wedding is next Friday."
"Couldn't you just come afterwards?" Johnny asks.
"Not with that long ass drive. I know I'm good, but I'm not that good."
You were wracking your brain for every possible scenario you can come up with so that Mark would be able to go with you.
"I don't know if I'm the only one thinking this but why can't you just come down Saturday?" Chenle asks.
"I mean he could, but they changed the rule with check-in to keep too many locals from taking up space. So check-in is only available Friday. He wouldn't be able to race." Yangyang says.
"What's so wrong with that?" Summer asks.
"It's his first race wars. You really think he'd want to sit on the sidelines with you all weekend?" Renjun asks.
"Now, you listen, Huang-" Summer starts.
The bickering among your friends continued as you sit quietly, still thinking.
"What if I went with you?" you ask.
"To my brother's wedding?" Mark questions.
"I'm not trying to forcefully invite myself. But if I go with you, you and I can do that drive. We'd get there pretty late but I'm pretty sure if I talk to Taeyong I can work something out."
"You wouldn't be inviting yourself since I was just about to invite you myself."
"Really? You were gonna ask me to come as your date?" you ask, endeared.
"Well I was gonna ask you to come as my girlfriend—I mean technically you'd still be my date, but my date as my girlfriend-"
You hear nothing else after girlfriend. His girlfriend. Mark's girlfriend.
"Mark, are you kidding me?" you ask, genuinely in disbelief.
"No?"
You grab Mark's shirt and kiss him. That definitely got everyone quiet.
"Woah, woah, what did we just miss?" Haechan asks.
"I'm taking your answer as a yes," Mark says to you.
"Yes, Mark. I will come to your brother's wedding as your girlfriend," you can't help the grin stretching across your face as you say it. You then move your legs out of his lap and turn to the rest of the group. "Alright, so here's what's going to happen," you start explaining your plan to everyone.
[7:21 AM] (next) FRIDAY
"Sunny, let's go!" Nyla yells from the front door.
"I'm coming," Summer replies, dragging her oversized suitcase down the steps behind her.
Following her down the stairs, you meet the rest of your friends outside. You make sure you've packed everything you'd need for the weekend in your car before you hand your keys over to Sungchan.
"Sungchan, do you understand how much I'm trusting you right now. This is my baby," you tell him.
"Yes, I know. I promise I'll be careful with her," Sungchan nods.
You watch as Shotaro helps the younger boy hook your car up to the rig connected to the back of Sungchan's vehicle.
"Kun just called me before he boarded his flight, and said the house is ready for us. And we should really get a move on if we don't wanna hit traffic," Hendery says.
"Though I do appreciate Kun letting us use the vacation house, why isn't he going?" Goeun asks.
"He's flying out to Shanghai to meet up with Winwin. He said the car scene out there is some next level shit," Yangyang says.
"So what I'm hearing is we're making a trip to China soon," Summer says.
"Can we get to this race wars first?"
"We'll see you and Mark later tonight?" Nyla asks before she gets into Jaehyun's car. You confirm with a nod. "Have fun." she tells you.
"You too. But not too much without us," you say.
"No promises," Jaehyun playfully winks at you before driving away.
[1:19 PM]
As your Uber pulls up to the venue, you feel the smile rushing to your face when you see Mark outside waiting for you. He opens your door and holds his hand out for you.
"Wow, baby, you look…damn," he licks his lips as he stands back to get a full view of you.
"Mark, knock it off," you laugh.
Mark excitedly squeezes your hand as he walks you inside, his body seemingly buzzing.
"Babe, you okay?" you ask Mark.
"Yeah, I'm just excited to introduce you to everyone."
"We basically grew up together, Mark. Haven't I been introduced to practically everyone."
"Yeah, but not as my girlfriend," he grins.
You both made your rounds for a bit, Mark proudly showing you off to everyone before he got called away when all the groomsmen were needed for pictures, leaving you to wander over to the bar.
"I see all this secret pining has finally come to an end," you hear a voice from someone at the bar beside you. Seeing the cousin of the bride wasn't surprising, but you're still happy to see him after all these years.
"It was about time, wasn't it," you say to Doyoung.
"I'll say. It was exhausting watching you two be in love and not say anything to each other," Doyoung says.
"In love? Okay, now you're over-exaggerating," you roll your eyes, sipping your drink.
"Taeil, back me up on this," Doyoung calls his friend.
"On what?" Taeil asks, turning to you two.
"This one and Mark being so obviously in love since high school."
Taeil turns to you and starts laughing, "Oh, you're serious?" he stops laughing, "Well he's right."
"Taeil, you're not supposed to take his side!" you cross your arms over your chest.
"Sorry, kid."
Once it was time for the ceremony to start, the wedding coordinator ushered everyone to their seats. Before the groom came out, Mark walked down the aisle along with the maid of honor. 
"You ready for that to be you next?" Doyoung asks Taeil as Mark's brother walks out. 
"Am I," he smiled at his girlfriend, who stood along with the rest of the bridesmaids. 
"I'm sorry did I miss something?" you ask. 
"Oh right, I'm engaged, by the way," Taeil says nonchalantly as music for the bride starts playing. 
"What the fuck?" you try to whisper, "Oh my god, since when?"
"Since last month," he answers. 
You don't have time to celebrate the news anymore, with Doyoung shushing the two of you as the groom and bride start their vows. 
The last time you attended a wedding was before you could even drive, so you barely remember what happened, but you can count you weren't as emotional at the last one. It may also have to do with your proximity to the couple, almost feeling as if you were watching your own brother get married. You try to keep your composure as the bride continues on her vows. 
"There's nothing in my life I regret since it had all led me to you. I knew I loved you from the second we met. You've seen my at my bests and worsts. You know about all the good, the bad, the ugly, the dirty, yet you still accept and love me as I am. All the days I've spent with you, laughing, crying, smiling, yelling and there's not a single one I would take back or change-"
You can't stop the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn't really think the bride's vows would tug at your heartstrings the way they did, and all you can think about is Mark. Your eyes find his already looking at you.
As the tears fall, you give him a small smile before mouthing, "I love you," to him.
Mark tries to fight the smile coming to his face, not wanting to draw attention to himself before he mouths back, "I love you too."
You hadn't even realized the tears were streaming down your face until Doyoung handed you a tissue.
"Thank you," you whisper. 
"It's just so beautiful, isn't it?" Taeil asks, also crying and pulling out his own tissues.
[5:57 PM]
Between dancing and socializing at the reception, while waiting for the cake to be cut, you and Mark ended up leaving later than you originally planned.
By the time you were in Mark's car and on the road, the sun had started to set. Mark had one hand on the wheel while you had the other in your lap, fiddling with his fingers. You look over at him, your chest filling with warmth as you take in the way the pink and orange hues contour his features.
"You know I meant what I said before," you break the silence.
"I know," he kisses the back of your hand, "I just didn't expect you'd say it first."
"Why's that?"
"Because I know how guarded you can be with your feelings sometimes," he explains, "But still, I've been in love with you since I was 16—It's kinda crazy actually, I didn't realize it until I was already on my flight to Korea."
You ignore the tears pricking your eyes as you lean closer to Mark, peppering his face with kisses.
"I love you, Mark Lee."
[10:13 AM] SATURDAY
You wake up with the sun shining on your face. You turn over, searching for the warmth of Mark's body. Considering how tired you both were, practically collapsing onto the bed when you two finally arrive some time after two this morning, you're surprised to not find Mark still sleeping beside you, his side of the bed empty.
"Mark?" you call him without opening your eyes.
"Yeah?" you hear him reply.
"Where are you?" you ask, eyes still closed.
"I'm right here, baby," you hear his voice a lot closer as the mattress sinks under his weight.
You feel his lips on yours. Still half asleep, your reaction was delayed before you kissed him back.
"This early in the morning, Mark?" you ask with a lazy smile.
"As hard as it was to stop myself yesterday, I also have a feeling we'll be pretty busy all weekend, so I'll take every chance I get." he says.
You laugh as his nose ghost over your throat, sending goosebumps all over your skin. Mark slips his hand under the shirt of his you were wearing and cups your breast in his hand. You arch into his touch, nibbling on his bottom lip. Your head sinks into the pillows when Mark rolls the pad of his thumb over your perky nipple. Mark doesn't take his eyes away from your face as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.
Your hand finds his hair, and your fingers curl around the messy dark locks as he swirls his tongue around your areola. He gently tugs your nipple between his teeth, and you roll your hips against his thigh between your legs. 
"Mark..." you finally open your eyes to look at your boyfriend.
"Can I?" he asks, toying with the hem of your panties. 
"Please," you nod. 
Mark pulls your underwear down your legs and grips your thighs as he comfortably settles on his stomach. He guides your legs over his shoulder while leaving a trail of kisses and small bites up your thighs. Mark runs the tip of his tongue along your slit, humming when your juices land on his tastebuds. 
"Oh my god, Mark," your nails lightly scratch his scalp. 
He moans back at you in response, the vibrations from his mouth sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. Your eyes screw shut, and you bite your lips so hard you're afraid you've drawn blood. You try with everything in your body to stay quiet. But with Mark messily eating you out, languidly moving his skilled tongue against your walls, you can't even stay still, let alone be quiet. 
"Please, baby, don't stop," you tell him. 
Before you even register the knock on your door, Summer enters your room, and your entire body freezes. 
"Hey-Where's Mark?"
You glance at Mark under the covers between your thighs, out of sight, and he smirks. You try to hide your reaction as he teasingly kitten-licks your clit. You squeeze your thighs around his head and quickly rush out an answer for Summer. 
"He went to go refill his tank before we go out today," you say. 
"Oh, okay. Well, breakfast is ready in ten, then we're all leaving around 11. Cool?"
You nod. "Yeah, yeah. We'll be ready by then."
Once Summer leaves, you barely have time to be relieved with Mark picking up like he never really stopped, making you cum on his tongue. 
"Fuck, Mark," you squirm, letting your orgasm wash over you. Mark continues lapping at your folds until he's satisfied. Coming from under the covers, Mark wipes the lower half of his face with the back of his hand. 
"What the fuck was that?" you ask, breathless. 
"You told me not to stop," he grins, and you roll your eyes, "You can't even act like you hate me 'cause I know you love me," he kisses you. 
"I'm beginning to rethink that decision," you tease. 
[2:24 PM]
Having been out in the sun practically all day watching races and even taking a few rides yourself, you decided to give your car and yourself a break from the sun. You parked under one of the canopies Johnny set up and took a seat on your hood. Coming back from watching Chenle race Ningning, you spot the top of Mark's head through the crowd, beginning to make his way over to you.
The look on his face can only be compared to that of a kid in a candy store. You love watching the way his eyes light up talking about the race, rambling on and on, you not minding one bit.
"So, is this everything you hoped it'd be?" you ask Mark.
He nods, subtly parting your legs to stand between them. "And so much more," he kisses you.
"Hey!" someone yells, grabbing everyone's attention, "how about you and me," Leo calls Mark out.
"Alright, how much?" Mark asks.
"No money," Leo smiles before turning to you, "I win, I get to take you out."
"As fucking if," you slide off the hood of your car, Mark instinctively wrapping his arm around you before you can get too far, some of the others coming to your defense as well. "You already had your chance and fucked that up. What makes you think I'll willingly put myself through that again? You wanna try and make yourself feel better by racing him, it'll be for two grand take it or leave it," you say to Leo.
"So he can have a shot at winning a date through a race but I can't?" Leo asks.
"Because he didn't try to win me over like I'm just a pink slip, and he doesn't have an ego bigger than an eighteen-wheeler."
"Fine. You're on, Mark," Leo nods at your boyfriend, "But we'll see if you'll feel the same when I beat him across the line," Leo smirks at you, and you scoff.
Spectators gather on either side of the runway, cheering for either racer as their cars pull up to the starting line. You had been suspiciously eyeing Leo the entire time he sat in his car with that stupid grin on his face.
"What's wrong?" Mark asks you.
"I don't doubt that you can beat him. But I don't trust he won't try anything," You say before walking up to Taeyong while Sean talks to him. "I'm riding with Mark," you tell Taeyong.
"What? You can't," Sean crossed his arms.
"There aren't any rules against it," Taeyong says.
"And how exactly do you think that'll help your little boyfriend? It can throw off his equilibrium and slow him down," Sean tries looking down his nose at you.
"Which is why you're gonna get your ass in that passenger's seat and ride with your little bestie over there," you point to Leo's car, "I mean, it's not like you haven't already gotten your own front row experience losing to my little boyfriend," you tilt your head. Sean grumbles before he walks over to Leo's car, and you get into Mark's.
"We're really doing this?" Mark asks.
"Ride or die, remember?" you hold out your hand.
Mark smiles, finishing the quote as he takes your hand, "Ride or die."
a/n: i’m telling y’all ever since ay-yo, mark has been living in my head rent free—currently the owner of a few properties, if you will. this is the longest thing i’ve ever written and tbh it would’ve been longer if there wasn’t a text block limit so i did the best with what i had 😭 and like i said before all my knowledge about cars is based off the fast and furious movies so…thank you so much for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33 tag list <33: @chardonnayyyy @aliceinwhateverland @itzz-me-duh @nctevia @sirens-dreams @pieddpiperr @yujuvly @scarletsknight
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Started watching Ted Lasso (ik! I'm late, but you guys, I don't have Apple tv and it was really hard to get it)
Anyway, I thought coach Beard looked familiar, so I went to imdb and now "🎶 Jesuuuus loves marijuana 🎶" is playing nonstop in my head
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wynnyfryd · 5 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 31
part 1 | part 30 | ao3
updating the rating to E. cw: recreational drug use/marijuana, foreplay, mild-to-moderate spit kink
“I feel like a water bottle,” Steve slurs. At some point he wiggled his way between Eddie’s legs to get a better look at his tattoos — starting at his ankles and working his way up, pointing at each piece and asking, "What's this? And what's that?"
Eddie explained each one in turn: the quotes, the lyrics, the silly art. "This one's the Elvish word for friend. That one's from an Iron Maiden song. Oh, the asterisk? It's supposed to be an asshole. No, I'm serious! That's how Vonnegut drew them in his books."
Now Steve’s lying flat on his back between Eddie’s splayed thighs, eyelids heavy, body warm. 'Go Your Own Way' plays softly on the stereo, and Eddie continues his tattoo tour, the fingers of his free hand weaving patterns through Steve's hair — lazy, twirling zig-zags that send skitters of sensation across his scalp and down his spine.
Steve feels like he could die right now. Happy. Held. Content.
Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.
“This is fucking awesome,” he hums.
“Good,” Eddie grins at him, “I’m glad.” He scratches lightly at his scalp. “What were you, uh— what were you saying about a water bottle?”
Oh, right. Steve lifts a hand; pantomimes tilting a bottle back and forth. “Like, uh….. Sssloshy.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie snorts. “You’re so high.”
“Mmmmhm.”
“And you look like you’re jerking off a ghost."
“I’ll jerk off your ghost,” Steve mutters petulantly.
"I’m sure my ghost would love that.”
Eddie reaches for the joint and takes another drag, and Steve tilts his neck, arching up to look at him. Bites his lip at the pretty picture Eddie makes: the sharp shadows and delicate lines, the shape of his full lips exhaling rings of smoke. Big for a guy's. He remembers thinking that a couple weeks ago. That they were big. That they looked soft.
And now he thinks: Kissable.
Steve licks his lips. “What about your, uh- not ghost?”
Eddie laughs like he’s watching a newborn puppy try to walk. “You want to touch my dick so bad.”
“S’probably a good dick,” Steve shrugs, unashamed.
He probably should be — ashamed. Guilty for the feelings stirring deep inside his chest; feelings weed brings to the surface, sends southbound, turns to need. He can imagine how the good, god-fearing Catholics who raised him would react if they could see him now, how they'd foam and froth and rage, red-faced and covered in spittle as they shouted that he's condemning himself to Hell.
But the thing is, he's already in Hell. He's been here since July.
And anyway, Hell's kinda nice. Gentle and warm, surprisingly kind. Hell smells like leather and tobacco, like weed and aftershave, and it sounds like Lindsey Buckingham, and it likes to braid Steve's hair.
Hell has endless, inky eyes and probably kisses him with tongue.
Heat spreads through him like molten honey at the thought, spilling hot over the edges, curling in his core, and Steve turns his head to the side and drags his mouth over a tattoo on Eddie’s inner thigh — a cartoon cloud over a curled-up snoozing fox. He noses at the edge of Eddie's shorts; pushes them up.
Goosebumps pebble under the warm press of his lips. "What's this one?" Steve whispers, nudging the fabric further up.
Eddie’s laugh is quiet and strained. "Something I don't want to discuss with your mouth this close to my dick. Stevie," he warns, but it's breathless, full of want. There's a wet spot on his shorts.
Steve pushes onto his belly, blows hot breath over the spot, liquid fire coursing through him at he stares at the bulge in Eddie’s shorts. Blistering heat, the sweetness dense, rich and thick on his tongue; in his veins. He mouths at the crease of Eddie's thigh. Eddie smells so good, like skin and sweat and boy, and Steve wants this. Wants it so badly he feels the ache inside his teeth. I dreamed the goddess poured ambrosia...
Steve feels it drip from head to toe.
"Steve." Eddie's voice is sharp this time, commanding and firm as he fists a hand in Steve's hair — not hurting him; not letting him move. Keeping him from putting his mouth just where he wants.
Steve makes a desperate sound and rocks his hips against the bed.
"Steve, stop," Eddie scolds. Pulls his hair a little harder, like he’s tugging on a leash.
"Eddie, please.” Steve’s eyes roll back, and he shifts his hips again. Just once; just a bit. Not nearly hard enough.
"No. Behave. Be good."
Steve freezes — tenses every muscle, holds himself so still, his face flushing with shame, because he didn’t mean to not be good. Didn’t mean to do anything bad. He blinks at Eddie with watery eyes and says he’s sorry, his voice cracking around the word.
"God," Eddie groans. His fist tightens in Steve’s hair, and his hips twitch off the bed, the curve of his cock brushing the tip of Steve's nose. Fuck. "Holy shit. Roll over."
"What?"
"On your back, like you were before." He’s panting when he says it, and Steve does as he's told; flips over onto his back, face bracketed by Eddie's thighs, the tent in his own shorts embarrassingly big. Obvious.
"Good,” Eddie exhales. “That’s- Jesus. Yeah, that’s good." He sinks back against the wall with a winded sigh.
And then he doesn't say anything else.
Doesn’t even move, just slouches down to catch his breath.
Steve kind of wants to cry; feels chastised and stupid, because of course Eddie doesn't want this. He already said he didn't, didn't he? Not tonight, anyway. And now Steve’s ruined things by being high and dumb and selfish, getting himself worked up over nothing and making it Eddie’s problem, and he'll probably spend the rest of this night miserable and blue-balled because he's a horny idiot, but that's—
It’s fine, if Eddie wants to cool things off; if he doesn't want to— he's allowed to not want—
"Here's what's about to happen.”
Steve snaps his head up to listen. Twists his neck around, sees Eddie lounging against the wall like a bored king on a throne, one ringed hand cupping himself loosely through his shorts. He squeezes once, takes another deep breath; lets it out long and controlled. Steve’s gonna fucking drool. "You’re gonna touch yourself for me.”
Steve moans. Guttural and loud, the sound punched out of his lungs, because Eddie’s voice comes out like gravel — husky, deep, the words authoritative and slow; like Steve needs to be punished; like Eddie’s merciful.
“You’re going to touch yourself exactly how I tell you to, and only how I tell you to. If I say stop, you stop. If I say faster, you speed up. If it's too much—" His hand moves to Steve’s cheek, slapping lightly against the bone. “—you tap out, or you tell me.”
Steve nods his head, entranced. Eddie’s thumb moves to his mouth. “And if you’re very, very good…” He tugs his bottom lip; presses in; lets him suck. “…then I’ll let you watch me come. How does that sound?”
Steve whines; hollows his cheeks, sucking harder, flicking his tongue. Eddie’s thighs clamp down around him, and when he pulls his hand away the spit clings to his thumb, a delicate string connecting them before it breaks. “Asked you a question, sweetheart.” He smears the spit over Steve’s chin. “Does that sound good?”
Steve nearly swallows his tongue.
part 32
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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bloompompom · 27 days
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LOVER BOY | MINI SERIES
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in which eren falls hard for you, his friend-with-benefits who insists she isn't looking for anything serious
PART TWO - mine, just for tonight
⟡ content: eren jaeger x female reader, good old-fashioned college au, fwb-to-lovers, mutual pining/idiots in love, cheesy rom-com, smut fic with feelings, fluff, angst, explicit sexual content, explicit language, alcohol, marijuana, high sex, mild violence, sexual harassment. reader discretion advised. 18+ ⟡ word count: ~5.3k ⟡ masterlist (2/4)
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Eren wasn’t sure which mistake he was referencing; he’d made more than plenty along the way, whether it was agreeing to this arrangement or letting it get this far. Too far. To the extent that he was certain you had left your indelible mark on him.
All the same, none of it truly felt like a mistake. If Eren didn’t regret a single time he said yes to sleeping with you, how could you possibly be a mistake? 
The only mistake he could foresee was losing you, he thought, so he bottled his feelings. He tried to bury them as deep as they would go, but it turned out he could only dig as deep as a wading pool, unfortunately. 
But having you like this—glossy-eyed and moaning and below him—and only like this was better than not having you at all. 
“I’m—hah,” you panted. “I’m close.”
Eren’s hand on your waist tightened, fingers grasping to keep you there for him, but he didn’t change the pace he thumbed circles against your clit. 
The little room had become too warm to be comfortable. The skin beneath your shirt sweltered and the fabric suctioned to your back. You didn’t bother to take it off beforehand, simply tucking the hem under your chin was enough for what was supposed to be a mid-day quickie. Now it was anything but.
The dorm floor was always empty at this time, making for the perfect opportunity to get together. An opportunity that Eren often took advantage of, especially if it was a bad day. 
He didn’t outrightly tell you it was one of those days, but you sensed there was something on his mind he wanted to forget about, even if it was only for the time he was inside of you. 
Eren towered over you on his knees, his hips angled just right. Yours were lifted from the bed and rolling to meet his thrusts. 
 He looked down at you, eyes dark and smoldering with determination to make you fall apart again. 
Nearly lost in a hiccup of a breath, you moaned, “Come with me,” because you knew he wanted to.
You were right there, babbling a whispy chant of how fucking good it felt until you threw your head back against your pillow and let your orgasm overwhelm you. 
Eren found it equally overwhelming. Gentle flutters of your cunt turned maddening, clenching around the thick of his cock like you wanted to empty him. Three simple, yet hardly innocent, words were all it took to relieve the weight of his impending release. He pinned you to the bed with thumbs dug just above your hipbones, keeping your shuddering body pliant for him to fuck into.
“Jesus—fuck,” he drew out on a strained groan. “I’m coming.”
He rammed into you a final time, leaving your bodies flush with you grinding against his hips, prolonging the pleasure until you were both entirely spent. When he looked at you again, eyes that were once as dark as storm clouds had cleared.
Eren pulled out of you, cursing under his breath at the overstimulation, and rolled to your side. He reached across you to grab his phone, pushing some hair from his face before checking the time. 
“Shit, I’m going to be late for lab,” he said as he shot up from your bed. 
“Sucks,” you cheekily replied. Today was your easy day, ending at noon on the dot. You leaned back against your pillows, watching him toss out the condom and rush to dress. “Your face is a little red.”
“I’ll blame it on having to run to class,” he said, which he would undoubtedly have to do. He zipped his fly, then started doing his belt. “The new TA started locking the door after five minutes.”
You contentedly tucked your arms behind your head. “Then you better hurry.”
“And you say I’m the mean one.” He slung his bag over his shoulder and gave you a once-over. “I guess I’ll see you when I see you?”
You smiled. “Until then.”
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‘Then’ turned out to be approximately three hours later. 
“Long time, no see.” 
Eren didn’t need to see you to immediately know it was you. He peered over his shoulder to discover you were closer than he thought, approaching his table with intention. 
Being that you attended a small-ish college, it wasn’t uncommon for you to run into each other on occasion, but that didn’t make it any less weird. He didn’t know how to describe it, but the feeling was similar to the one you get when you see a co-worker out in the wild—but worse because you were also sleeping with said co-worker. 
Poor analogy aside, what Eren meant to say was he always tried to keep these run-ins short and sweet and strictly business. But that didn’t mean he avoided you, even if he really wanted to right about now. 
Eren sat at one of those long dining hall tables, down at the very end, with Armin across from him. His friend’s presence complicated things for a couple of reasons.
For starters, Eren now felt he was under the same level of scrutiny as an animal in a nature documentary, with Armin at the ready to dissect every sudden movement or stutter. They had made it about halfway through their lunches, which meant Eren would spend the next half getting a free between-classes lecture from Armin about his findings on the encounter. 
By the look of it, Armin—who told the TA that Eren was in the bathroom and absolutely not running late—must have realized what he’d made himself accomplice to. The slightest grimace flickered across his face. 
That was the second reason.
“I was just about to text you,” you said to Eren. You laid your hand on the open seat beside him. “Mind if I sit?” 
Eren gestured a welcoming hand toward the chair. After a brief introduction—Eren introduced you as a ‘friend from class’ though all three of you knew it was a bit more than that—you sat down.
As you scooched your chair in and made yourself comfortable, you began to explain, “You know my friend Pieck?” Eren knew of her, mainly from what you’d told him, but nodded. “She’s celebrating her birthday tonight at The Library—”
“The library?” Armin appeared utterly confused.
“The bar,” Eren said. Armin mouthed an ‘oh.’ 
“Turns out her dad is friends with the owners,” you continued. “They let her rent out the place, so she needs to bring in as much cash as they’d make on a regular Friday night. I meant to ask you earlier but it slipped my mind.”
You said that last bit on a lilt, pointing a smile at Eren that made his ears burn hot. 
“That’s kind of a skeezy spot for a birthday party,” Eren redirected. He wasn’t lying when he said it. The place was a dive bar without any of the charm.
“Don’t tell her that,” you playfully said. “So does that mean you’re both out?” 
“Thanks for the invite, but I can’t,” Armin answered. He looked between you and Eren like he needed to explain himself to both of you. “I have plans with Annie.”
Armin started dating Annie about two months ago. Eren didn’t know her well. She had a tendency to keep to herself. 
“I’ll see what Jean and Connie are up to,” Eren said, because there was no way he would show up alone. 
“Cool,” you said with a satisfied smile. You planted your hands against the table, but before you pushed yourself up, you turned to Eren, throwing in a quick wink as you said, "See you when I see you."
After you left, Armin patiently waited for Eren to say something while Eren couldn’t even meet his eye. 
“You can say it,” he finally sighed, his voice flat and defeated. 
“Say what?” Armin asked. 
Eren saw past his innocent act. He sneered as he listed everything he’d already heard before, both from Armin and the others. 
“That I need to cut things off, that I’m handling this all wrong, That I’m stupid…”
Where Eren left off, Armin failed to pick up. The silence hung between them momentarily before Armin quietly said, “You said it, not me.”
Eren rested his elbows on the table and groaned into his hands. He couldn’t tell if his hands felt hot against his face or if it was the other way around. Either way, he was flustered and left completely unraveled.
Armin was smart enough to take the hint. Whatever ‘advice’ he had for Eren would be saved for another time.
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Connie and Jean agreed to come, not that it took much convincing. They would have probably spent their night there or at some other equally-shitty bar. But they would have agreed to go anywhere if it meant they could finally meet you, the girl they’d been hearing about for ages. If it wasn’t for the emotional rollercoaster they’d witnessed from the sidelines, they would have guessed Eren had made you up entirely. 
Late that night, The Library was packed by the time the boys arrived, more than they’d ever seen it. There was no doubt the bar would bring in its usual Friday revenue—perhaps double. 
Jean leaned into Eren with a hand on his shoulder. “Do you see her?”
Disregarding that Jean was too curious for Eren’s liking, he couldn’t point you out even if he wanted to. It was hard to get a look at—well, anything. The lights were low enough to hide the dingy nooks and crannies, like they believed they could sell this place as anything other than a hole-in-the-wall joint that hosted throwing dart competitions on Thursdays. There wasn’t enough bleach in the world to rid the sickly sweet smell of spilled beer from this place. It permeated the walls and made Eren’s shoes stick to the floorboards. 
Against technicolor flashes of light stood the silhouette of a few girls atop the bar. Three of them, to be exact. Amongst them, Eren made out a glittery smile. 
Eren gave a nod in your direction. “That’s her.” 
Jean and Connie shared this strange look—an offensive one, if you asked Eren. Was it truly that hard to believe Eren had caught your attention? 
The laughter erupting from that end of the bar sounded defiant against the bass. The girl in the middle must have been Pieck—Eren assumed as much based on the birthday crown sitting on her raven-haired head. She held a bottle of vodka between two hands, angling the pourer (a telltale sign the bottle came from behind the bar, with or without permission) so the liquor waterfalled into the mouths of those crowding around her. 
In a sea of faces, between disorienting lights and getting swept up in your Coyote Ugly fantasy, you spotted Eren. You waved high above your head before climbing down from the bar with a helping hand. 
See? He had no trouble catching your attention. If anything, he had a knack for it. 
“Eren, hi!” you shouted as you skipped over. Your face lit up when you saw he’d brought company. Once you were close enough that you no longer had to read lips but could hear each other’s voices, you said, “You must be Connie and Jean.”
You were right, of course. The duo introduced themselves, telling you who was who. Between the words you missed, you pieced together why these two seemed so familiar to you: you had a friend in common, a very good one at that. So you proceeded to gush over your shared love of Sasha Braus—their friend since freshman year and your sophomore-year dorm neighbor turned friend after you hid out in her room during one of your roommate’s meltdowns. 
Eren hung back, watching Connie outstretch his phone to take a selfie with you that would make Sasha totally jealous, according to him.
The introduction was going better than Eren had anticipated. Neither of his friends had accidentally (or intentionally) embarrassed him. Any minute now, someone else would call for your attention, you would walk away, and they could—
“You know, I bet Sasha would love it if you came to the white party next weekend,” Jean said casually—too casually. 
The white party was arguably the biggest school event of the year and it had been for the last who knows how many decades. That was the first thing everyone learned when they stepped foot on campus, and the reason that some, the douchey-frat type like Jean, chose to attend the college altogether. Every year, big-head alumni and donors gathered in the name of philanthropy—a word that sounded pretty on paper but was a thinly veiled excuse to re-live the glory days. But at least it was a party for a good cause. 
As callous as Eren made it sound, that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking forward to next weekend. The event would be held at this fancy-schmancy hotel an hour’s drive away, constructed about as close to the beach as building compliance allowed.
Eren actually attended a wedding there once, in the same penthouse venue booked for the white party. Even with rooftop access, the space wasn’t that large, making the whole affair more exclusive than it already was. He only got to go because Jean was the vice president of the hosting fraternity, which was the same reason he held the prestigious honor of bestowing invitations upon those deemed worthy enough. They (the alumni) had blocked an entire floor for the members and their invitees to stay at the hotel overnight. It would be a bad look to have a bunch of drunk college students driving back to campus, wouldn't it?
Eren wondered what he could have possibly missed in the last sixty seconds that led the conversation to this point. When had it turned so chummy between you?
But you appeared just as stricken, your eyebrows giving it away by springing high on your forehead. Jean waved away your surprise with, “I’m only returning the favor for inviting us out tonight,” though it’d be a stretch to say the two invitations were equivalent. “Unless you have other plans.”
You didn’t. You hadn’t had the time to think about spring break plans with graduation right around the corner. Even if you did, you wouldn’t dare pass up the offer. It was on every student’s bucket list to attend a white party before graduating. 
“I would love to,” you marveled. Glancing to Eren next, almost like you sought his permission, you asked, “You don’t mind if I come?”
“Why would I mind?” The question confused Eren, who was already thrilled by the idea. Though he was mildly suspicious about Jean’s eagerness.
Oh well. That was something he could address later. 
“Thought you might want a break from me, considering this is the third time I’ve seen you today,” you teased, giving Eren a light elbow. In the same breath, you finally addressed Pieck, who called your name a second time after you ignored the first. You excused yourself with a quick, “The birthday girl needs me,” and just like that, you were sucked back into the excitement. 
“Oh, yeah. You’re fucked.”
Eren’s head snapped to Jean. Before he could ask what that was supposed to mean, he felt Connie’s hand slap the middle of his back, hard. 
“Three times? I didn’t know you had it in you,” Connie said with a strange admiration. 
“Once was at the dining hall, then the third time was now, dipshit,” Eren clarified. 
“You fucked in the dining hall?” Connie’s eyes widened. But upon further thought, his face scrunched with disgust. What could possibly be sexy about a musty, century-old dining hall?
Jean knocked on his friend’s head. “Do you even have a brain in there?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I’m using it right now,” Connie defended. “Jean, where would you bang in the dining hall? Personally, I’d pick—” 
After exchanging a look, Jean and Eren went to get drinks, with Connie trailing behind, shouting for them to wait up. 
Exactly two beers later, when Eren decided it was time for a third, you appeared again. You were at the bar, leaned up with an elbow on it, presumably waiting on your order. The only obstacle between you and your drink was some guy vying for your attention. He looked like a douchebag, but other than that, there was nothing else remarkable to say about him.
Eren’s pulse quickened; he could feel it hot beneath his skin. But as quickly as the feeling washed over him, he cooled it with a deep breath. There was no use in getting worked up and jealous over what wasn’t his to begin with. 
That didn’t mean he looked away. He couldn’t. Not because he was curious, more like he was watching a train wreck—the longer he stared, the more miserable he felt, and yet he couldn’t tear his eyes from the sight. But as the seconds ticked by, Eren found he was no longer wallowing in his self-pity; something was off. 
He noted the intimidating size difference between you and the stranger—how he loomed over you. You were shrinking, backing away only for him to encroach on your space again. 
Eren hesitated. Were you really uncomfortable or was it that he didn't want to accept what he saw? He didn't know the answer to that, which probably meant he was creating problems where there were none. He couldn't go around making rash decisions off some knee-jerk feeling.
At least, that was what Eren told himself, up until the douchebag placed a hand on your waist, then lower, and groped your ass. You shoved him away. 
Eren couldn’t think of a time he’d seen you like that. Maybe he didn’t even think it was possible; you’d always seemed so impervious to him. But right then, you looked vulnerable. Absolutely stunned, whether it was from your anger with the asshat or your embarrassment from the attention accumulating around you—or both.
That was when Eren realized he wasn’t making it up, the moment your eyes locked with his. They went big, more white than iris, silently screaming, ‘Get me the fuck out of here!’ So he didn’t overthink it this time; he actually wasn’t thinking at all as he pushed his way to you. 
He all but put himself between you and the creep. Your chest lightened a little, you could finally take a proper breath again. Your escape route was in sight: Eren would wait with you until the bartender returned with your drink, then the two of you would get the hell away from here and forget this ever happened.
And that was how things unfolded—at least at first. Eren asked if you were okay, even dropping your name to make sure the asshole got the message loud and clear.
He did. It just wasn’t well received. 
He straightened out as if he believed it made him taller, like he wanted to browbeat Eren with his presence alone. Despite the snort he gave, he didn’t sound amused in the least.
“What are you supposed to be? Her boyfriend or something?”
It would have been perfectly reasonable, preferred even, for Eren to lie then. A little white lie that would do more good than harm. You wouldn’t have batted an eye at it. 
But he didn’t. There was a delay in Eren's answer. In that split-second, he convinced himself that a measly ‘yes’ would get misconstrued. That somehow, some way, you’d hear his confession in that single word. 
Eren’s brows twitched. When he finally opened his mouth, he only managed the words, “No, but—” before the guy socked him in the face.
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“Does it hurt?”
You ran the tip of your index finger over his temple and toward his cheekbone, where a watercolor bruise painted his eye. It was a murky color, the color of water after you’d scrubbed the paintbrush clean, with shades of black and purple—maybe even some green. 
“No,” Eren lied as he winced. The tender skin beneath his eye crinkled like paper beneath your touch. 
You bought a soda from the vending machine in the lobby of your residence hall and made Eren use it as a makeshift ice pack. He did as he was told, but only held it there for a silent minute before giving up. He had it resting on his leg now. 
You took his wrist and brought the can back to his face before it became lukewarm and you’d have to buy another. He flinched again and you whispered a quick apology. You plopped onto your bed, sitting at the edge just beside him, quietly watching your swaying feet. 
You mentioned the silence not because you felt awkward or took it personally but because it was just another fact of the matter. You didn’t mind the silence, not with Eren.
Eventually, he sighed and asked, “Is it bad?”
You shook your head. “It could be worse.” 
After the prick swung on Eren, his buddies yanked him back—the situation would have been a whole lot better if they’d done that earlier. They needed to keep a leash on that thing, and you made sure they knew it, too. But despite your bark, you didn’t want Eren to get his ass kicked by three dudes, so you held him back just the same. You locked your arms around his with a hold no firmer than a shout of ‘cut it out!’ But Eren was one to listen, even to the quietest of pleas. 
A security guard rushed to kick out both boys, warning that he was doing them a favor by only kicking them out—and he was right. Even if it was just a slap on the wrist, it was also an undeserved fist to the face. Though you knew you weren’t at fault, the guilt still weighed on you. The guy who was always there for you, no matter the cost, had done it again. 
“Thank you for stepping in,” you quietly said. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”
Eren brushed it off. “I just wish I got a hit in.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t. You could have gotten yourself in serious trouble,” you reminded. 
Eren scoffed. “He’s the lucky one.”
“That right?” you teased. “Because you would’ve knocked him out if nobody stepped in?”
“Damn right.”
You laughed because you knew he was being serious. He smiled for the first time since you left the birthday party. A real smile. Big enough that it tugged at his fresh bruise and pulled a faint ‘ow’ from him. 
“God, I’m an idiot,” Eren said with a dejected laugh—but at least it was a laugh. 
“I know.”
You draped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into some sort of a hug, one where you rested your chin atop the back of his head. He looked like he needed it. 
You shut your eyes, smelled his shampoo. 
“What time is it?” Eren asked. He sounded as sleepy as you felt. 
You blinked a few times before reaching for your phone. “Just past midnight.”
He shed your arms. Neither of you addressed the length of the hug. He sat upright and said, “I should get going.”
Before you could think of the consequences, you blurted, “Stay,” stopping yourself short of snatching him by the wrist and dragging him back to bed. You inaudibly cleared your throat. “You’ve been drinking. It’s late. You took a punch for me—” There were a million reasons he should stay. “Please.”
You watched his willpower flicker. His eyes drifted between you, the floor, and the window overlooking the route to his dorm. 
“We could smoke? I picked some up yesterday.” Your voice dripped with persuasion. You crouched to the bottom drawer of your cubby and rifled around. You revealed your infamous tea tin—one he’d surely recognize by now. You held it on display for him, raising a tempting brow as you bragged, “New strain,” as if either of you cared about that sort of thing. 
Eren gave you his answer by pushing open your old, rickety window. You could never manage to get it yourself. 
You began to light the candles spread about your room, all three of them, only burning yourself once. Eren picked a spot for himself on the floor and you joined him, watching as he kindly packed a bowl for you to share. He handed it to you to take the first hit. 
What would normally happen next was easy enough to predict. And it would have tonight, if not for the incident.
Admittedly, it was times like these when you enjoyed sex the most. You liked how you felt then. When you weren’t fixated on the show—the production and performance that was fucking—but when you were made conscious of how the wooden stage felt beneath your feet and how the lights warmed your face and left white spots in your vision. How Eren’s hands traversed your body like he wanted to make topographical maps of you in his mind; the delicious heaviness of his mouth on yours. Time moved slower. You moved slower. Unhurried as you touched and tasted each other, not worrying about the finish line because you had let yourself get lost in the journey. 
You looked at Eren then, straight into his hazy green eyes, with all these thoughts whirling in your mind, and you didn’t know what to think. 
You brought the piece back to your lips, lit it, and took a final, deep drag before it was cashed. You scrounged together any incriminating evidence and tucked it back in your cubby. Eren shut the window and pulled the blinds down while you went to blow out the candles. Their burnt wicks and heady curls of smoke masked the stench well enough. 
Though it was not constructed for two, you squeezed to share your bed with Eren. It’d fit you both before, but tonight, it felt snugger than you remembered.
You slept restlessly, if you even slept at all. Minutes passed, maybe even hours. All the while, you stared at the ceiling, making constellations from its dated popcorn texture in what little streetlight shone from the window.
You suspected Eren wasn’t asleep either. He confirmed the hunch after you flipped to your side, away from him, and he pulled you in with an arm around your waist. His hand nestled beneath your tank top and pawed over the soft skin of your stomach. 
Before you could decide what it meant—if you wanted to leave his hand there or not—he started kissing you, from the cusp of your shoulder to your neck. Long kisses. With an open mouth and nips at your earlobe. You felt every sensation at the base of your spine. Another bloom of fire, another tingle of electricity—they coaxed your back into an arch, pressing your backside against his half-hard cock. 
Not a minute later, you had both slipped out of your bottoms. You were naked from the waist down, in an oversized tee you had hiked out of Eren’s way. His cock lay against the back of your leg until you lifted it, making room for him to push inside you. Deep enough for you to feel the stretch of taking him. Your breath hitched in your throat and left a bleary moan in its wake.
You let him take you then, slowly, with his hand still flattened against your stomach to keep you close. You’d never not used a condom before despite being on birth control. You’ve had your mouth on him, and his on you, but hadn’t felt each other like this. You’d thought about it, of course. How much better it would feel without a rubbery barrier keeping him from you. You craved it more often than you wished to confess. 
Eren pressed a groan into the nape of your neck, his breath breaking over your skin and warming what was already on fire. You reached a hand behind you, grasping and grabbing at him however you could, almost as if you feared he might fade away. Your fingers laced themselves in his hair and you didn’t let go.
The world spun around you, your mind blank to everything except how good your body felt—how good it felt to be full. Practically overflowing. There wasn’t enough room inside you for his cock, buried between your legs and stuffing you to the hilt, over and over; his two fingers, plunged past your lips with the pads of them on your tongue like a compressor; the feelings, big feelings, you hadn’t anticipated. All you could do was burst. 
You came then. Though it felt like lit fireworks or an explosion or whatever silly euphemism was preferred, there was a blissful silence inside of you. 
On the outside, you smothered your face with a pillow. You didn’t want to get in trouble for smoking and breaking quiet hours. 
“Come inside me,” you whispered on a flimsy exhale. It didn’t sound like you. You almost wouldn’t have believed you were the one who said it if not for how badly you wanted him to. You wanted him to fuck you through his release instead of his hand, just to prolong the fullness. 
Eren curled himself around your back, shifting inside you. The tip of his cock began hitting deeper than before. Your cunt squeezed around him, soft and wet and bringing him to climax. He bit a moan into your shoulder, his voice tight as it vibrated through your bones. 
You nearly had to remind yourself to breathe. He consumed you, your every thought, every fiber of your being, if just for a moment. The blunt of his teeth against your skin and the mark they’d leave, his cock throbbing inside you and spilling warm release—it was all so dizzying.
You muffled another whimper with your pillow. 
You wanted to face him, craving to look him in the eyes and kiss the bruise he’d earned for you. The thought made your stomach do somersaults, so you only stared at your desk with your back to his chest. 
Eren’s hand dipped below the blanket. His fingers skimmed along your front, down between your legs. Your eyes flitted shut and a gasp parted your lips. You were hot and swollen, sensitive to the finger he pushed inside you and, with it, his cum. Heat prickled across your cheeks—worse after he pulled your panties up for you. 
You breathed hard and in sync, bodies sleep-laden at last, from your heavy eyelids to your limbs that were too lazy to clean yourselves. But messy sheets and tacky skin didn’t concern you much. 
For the first time, you fucked Eren with more than just your body; your heart was all tangled up in it, too. The feeling terrified you. 
Tonight, you needed him with a desperation you didn’t know existed. Not to satiate some primal desire within you but desperate for the assurance that he was still there and he was okay and he was safe in your bed, with you. 
You didn’t know how it happened, but gradually, yet all at once, you knew exactly what you wanted. You couldn’t believe you had missed it for so long. 
What you had with Eren was such a fragile thing, easily shattered by acknowledgment. You didn’t want to say goodbye, not yet, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he deserved better—if you deserved better—than to go on pretending as though there was nothing between you. 
The answer eluded you but the ache persisted. For now, you would maintain the status quo. You would continue to dance your delicate dance. To question it now would be pointless; your gut was already swarming and you were beginning to think you might overheat.
You kicked a foot outside the blanket and hoped for sleep to come easy, not counting sheep but the breaths against your neck as Eren hid his face in the crook of it. 
The next morning, you woke slowly. You lay there, eyes closed, and swore you could still feel his heat against your back. But when you finally roused, you found Eren had left, and he must have taken your troubled thoughts with him.
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masterlist | more to come ♡
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tremendum · 8 months
Text
Mr. Miller's Show
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[not my gif]   pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman)     rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 7.3k  (back to regularly scheduled programming) requested: yes thank you all for all the patience srsly <3 summary: “'like how sweet you've been t'me, sugar," he mutters gently, head tilting, "why y'gonna go and fuck all that up now?'" warnings: gendered words (girl, woman, etc) allusions to PTSD, porn with feelings, guys theyre like getting healthier, SMUT (PiV unprotected), oral (M receiving), deepthroating, rough sex, face-fucking, shower smut, counter smut, reader is a tease, masturbation (f), marijuana use as always lol, brief voyeurism, canon-typical violence, age gap (undefined but mentioned), ass play (spitting, fingering, only a bit sorryyyy), mirror sex again bc im a whore, reader has hair long enough to grab, hair pulling, lots of choking, spit kink, light slapping (f receiving, consensual), dirty talk, praise kink but also degradation, use of words like slut, brat tamer!joel, overstimulation, MEAN!JOEL YALL, but he has feelings so he’s also kinda soft!dom in this again, once again sooo unedited that it hurts.  notes: finally finally after over a month im back!! hope you enjoy this chapter, ive been having rough writers block with this story so any suggestions and requests are very welcomed!!! thanks for all the love and as always, comments & reblogs w tags are motivation and help out so much!!! love u all <3 also for the taglist, it's too big now and i may consider stopping my taglist, just letting everyone know!!! ill lyk if i do ofc but im reblogging with the list this time.
[this is part six of the Mr Miller series. read previous part sympathy for the devil.  main masterlist here. ]
★  
"you're wearing earrings." 
Joel's voice cuts through the serene chill in the air, shocking you enough to have your head turning away from where you stare ahead - you crane your neck too much, but you can just see the dusted gray and dark of his curls behind you as your brows raise. 
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it takes you a second to understand the sentence he's just uttered to you out of nowhere- but you blink to life, clearing your throat as the dead trees pass you by. 
"oh. yeah, it's... they're new. didn't really wear stuff like that until..." you shrug, trailing off as you stare forward yet again. your heart thumps as his chest rumbles against your back - jesus, he's so close to you. it's been weeks since he's been this close, even if this is just work.
your body wants what it wants, you suppose.
your lips purse, lost in the press of his thick body behind you.
"-till?" 
your lip twitches in a smile for a split moment; he's waiting for you to finish your sentence. as if he cares.
Joel... 
he's been so normal recently. or as normal as you could ever imagine Joel Miller to be; full sentence-conversations full of questions, full sentences, and even an occasional joke or dry line littered in with his glares and eye-rolls. he's even taught you and ellie to woodwork, nodded in hello when you picked up Ellie on your way into town - hell, he'd actually gotten a drink with you after patrol a few days ago and held eye contact for a whole thirty minutes.
a fucking miracle.
and even, on rare occasions, you are rewarded with that mind-splitting, earth-shattering smile - a very rare but rewarding sight. the kind that shocks a room, silences you and Ellie both, lights the sun and makes the birds sing. makes your stomach flutter.
so perhaps things have changed. 
it makes you almost laugh to yourself, recalling that day so many moons ago when you had walked into the Bison and first stared into those stony eyes; how big his calloused hands were, the way his lip lifted in distaste at your crass words. 
the sway of the horse makes your hips move gently; your ass is starting to feel sore at the constant motion and as you rock forward with the decline of the hill, you feel Joel's body slide slightly as though he tries against everything to press fully against you. even though you wish he would. 
heat paints your face as you feel his breath on your neck, waiting patiently for you to finish your sentence.
your sharp breath exhales as you realize you've hesitated at his questioning, a bit too long - you smile sheepishly, shrugging. "-sorry, didn't..." you clear your throat, "couldn't remember the last time I wore earrings. not that it matters, but I just..." you thumb the makeshift earring back, grinning to the mane of the horse as he trudges you and Joel both along. 
"-it feels nice. makes me feel like myself." you finish, shrugging awkwardly. 
for all of the steps Joel has taken in the last few weeks to change, there are some things you still have a hard time with.
talking about yourselves and opening up is a very large, unmovable hurdle that you and him are still clearly trying to pull yourselves over. it's quiet for a second as your words seep into the dead surroundings, less than an hour from town. 
"look nice." he grunts quietly, his arms pressing slightly from where he straddles the saddle behind your frame. 
your eyes widen at the seemingly random compliment, face flooding with flattery and embarrassment. your grin betrays you, but you don't dare stutter out a broken thank you for fear that you will sound like a croaking frog; instead, you purse your lips over the giddy grin that spreads over your cheeks and hope that as he stares at the profile of your face, he can see the flattery written across your features. 
"Ellie has a matching pair." you say instead, sparing a quick glance back at Joel. his brows raise, jaw ticking as he takes in the information - your voices both echo at the same time as you speak over each other suddenly: 
"she doesn't have her ears pierced."  "in case she ever gets them pierced." 
you let out a short huff of laughter, nodding sheepishly at having accidentally interrupted each other; Joel shakes his head with a ghost of a smile. 
"got it." he nods, "s'real nice of you." he nods, "making a pair for her, too." 
his chest is right on you - broad, warm through all the layers, and smelling of pine, whiskey, sage. amber. it's intoxicating as his drawl rumbles in the back of your ear - you silently thank Tommy or whoever the hell it was who ordered half the horses to rest after a bout of sickness spread through the stable; sharing a horse has never once before today seemed like a good idea. 
but the good idea sours quickly when you kick speed slightly, the horse leaping over a small creek as your hips shift back into Joel's and your ass presses into him. 
your mouth dries as you shakily exhale; he's so close to you - smells so good. your hands grip the reigns tighter and you nearly jump when a large, calloused hand falls onto your hips to steady you after the change in pace. 
your mind travels back to that morning after you'd stayed with Joel in his own bed - how gentle his hands had been as he'd guided you towards your own house under the early morning sunrise; your eyes bleary with sleep but his smile still cracking bashfully when you'd kissed his cheek, muttering about how maybe Ellie'd missed your boots by the front door when she'd come home. 
she and Joel certainly haven't said anything you if she did notice, anyways. 
you clear your throat, ignoring the searing desire that spirals from where his hand touches your clothed hip; you shrug, "she said she liked mine, so I figured we could match." 
he hums lowly at your word, his nose brushing slightly over the crown of your head. shivers roll over your shoulders as you swallow, retreating into the silence that you've lived in for the last few weeks since the two of you were put back on patrol. 
but you stiffen when a hand runs down your side, over the jagged stitching of your jacket, and you suck in a sharp inhale. his other hand slides forward, hooking gently around your hip, fingers splaying over the very top of your thigh and your throat dries up; a faint desire awakened and soon screaming at you. you squirm under his touch.
Joel's hips adjust behind you gently in the next second, your eyes fluttering shut as you imagine him pulling you into him, his hard cock sliding between the round globes of your ass and through your dripping folds, his hands greedy and hungry; his words sharp, teasing. his touch, sweet. intoxicating- 
your eyes open again and your heart skips a beat, his knees hitting the outside of your thighs. 
christ. your whole body tingles as you shift slightly, rotating your hips as the buck of the horse's cant tilts you further away from the heat of his broad chest. no, you can't stand his teasing - intentional or not, Joel is making you nearly melt in desire.
jesus.
you're barely pulling the horse to the side of the path when, with barely a crane of his neck,  Joel mutters, "the hell are y'doin?" 
you suddenly pull the reins and mutter woah, slipping yourself off of the horse and onto the hard ground with a burning face, your lungs screaming for air as Joel protests. 
"what-" he grunts as he pulls himself down from the stirrups, face etched with irritation and concern at your sudden evacuation, "is there an issue?" 
you can hear the irritation in his voice and you sigh, shaking your head - your heart's thundering, face hot and surely laced with poorly-hid embarrassment. god, what the fuck is wrong with you? there's barely forty minutes back to Jackson, why couldn't you just suck it up for a few more torturous minutes until you could return home to your trusty drawer and hot shower? 
"no." you snap, "no problem, Joel." your heart is thundering with surprise at his concern, eyes glaring daggers at him before shooting down towards the heat that nearly blisters on your forearm; his hand, warm and gentle, asking silently if you're okay. your eyes soften before you can school your expression - he reads you, as always, like his favorite novel. 
his hand falls away gently, grazing your finger tips like the gentlest breeze on your face and it still surprises you. 
"alright," he says softly, eyes searching your flustered appearance. "can we get back on the horse, then?" he asks - his voice is surprisingly patient, though his eyes are wary. irritated, but concerned. 
you clear your throat, unable to contain yourself much longer. "we could- take a break." 
his brows raise, tilting his head, "a break? we're nearly back. s'almost nightfall." 
you shift your weight, avoiding the way his corded arms cross over each other, his frame towering over yours as you dully throb in arousal. 
"you're-" you squeak, shaking your head, "you're fucking crowding me, and I need- fuck-" you groan, "just- just fuck off for a second, Joel." you snap, bursting in frustration, unsure how to just admit you are being driven fucking crazy with lust by his presence. 
his head tilts, "fuck off?" his eyes are darker every second you stand, facing each other- "the hell's gotten into you?" he sounds offended, and your heart flips as you feel bad - you're trying, you're trying so hard to be normal around him, as he is with you - so one touch, one innocent adjustment of his hips and now you're freaking out on him again?
you need to get a grip, or at least be honest. 
your face burns as his stern gaze rolls over each curve of your body; "Joel, you're driving me fucking crazy." you snap, glaring at him.
he looks shocked, hands flying out, "I barely said anythin' this whole goddamn day, how the hell am I still fucking this up?" he snaps back, irritated - his eyes incredulous as he stares down at you.
flames lick up your sides as you grind your teeth - his hair looks much more wavy with his curls today, and the green of his jacket it making the golden on his skin nearly glow; you nearly growl as you jump towards him. he's too much. too fucking much.
your hands lock on his shoulders, tugging yourself up towards his face as your lips fall against his. 
the kiss is a shock to you both. 
you're not sure what really compelled you to do it - the stubble over his sharp jaw, his hair, the way his thighs pressed against the outsides of yours just minutes ago, the way he pressed on about the earrings - whatever, it doesn't matter, because he's kissing you back and you're melting like butter over a campfire. 
his lips press hard back against yours through his shocked inhale, surging against you in a dizzying haze of Joel.
but the kiss is seared away from your lips when Joel suddenly shoots his thick hand out, rising to grip hard at your throat, shoving you backwards. 
it's more shocking than the sudden kiss - the speed in which he pulls back and pushes you hard backwards by his warm grip, causing flutters of arousal to course through your stomach.
you stumble in shock but he keeps his hold on you, passionate as he movers the two of you back. you're torn away from his warmth as he presses you with one hand on the small of your back and the other on the beating pulse of your throat - right against a tree, nudging you as he tilts his head down to your height once more. 
he's back on you in no less than a split second; his heat swirling around the cold air, teeth nipping at your lip when you take a moment longer than he'd like to open your lips to his tongue. he groans against you, a warm and deep thing that you feel in your own chest as your hand slides up to his hair, tugging at the base of his neck. 
the fingers around your throat flex and tighten in reaction to your own grip and the moan that rips from your throat sends his hips in a slow thrust against yours. 
you've been desperate for his touch for fucking days - he's been walking on eggshells even after you'd spent the night with him a few weeks ago. he'd barely touched you, taking his time trying to make up for all the lost time you'd spent trying to rip each other's heads off instead of your clothes.
and sure, you don't know who you are with him still - nothing defined, and a lot of things still unspoken - but for the first time since this whole mess started, that doesn't bother you. there's not much anger, nor jealousy - just... Joel. and you. 
it's not bad. 
his lips leave yours as he breathes against your lips, "like how sweet you've been t'me, sugar," he mutters gently, head tilting, "why y'gonna go and fuck all that up now?" 
his hand slips from your back lower, tugging you against his semi-hard cock as his fingers squeeze your ass. his hand lies just below your jugular, thumb soothing over your cold skin as his dark eyes glint with desire. you feel a rush of arousal pool between your legs as you raise your brows. 
"-you need to stop fucking touching me like that when we're riding, Miller." you growl against his lips, staring back at him. you lean slightly to catch his lips with yours once again but he pulls back with a strong hand against your neck to stop you - teasing.
he tuts, "you need to learn how to use your words, sweetheart." he growls against you, teeth catching on your bottom lip.
you whimper at the sharp sting, chasing him as if you could steal a kiss. he tilts his head just out of reach, his hand pressing against you until your breath comes out slightly ragged; your pussy flutters as he squeezes, knee sliding against your clothed core. 
"if you want it, ask for it, baby." he all but demands, hands rough against you, "can't just throw a fit every time you're aching for my cock, or else you'll be whinin' all goddamn day. how am I supposed to know-" 
but there's a snap of a twig somewhere behind you and you both spring apart, straight as boards, hackles raised.
it's almost like deja-vu as you're both thrown from your stupor - ripping away, your voices cease as your hand flies to your hunting knife - in your peripheral, you see that Joel's slung around his rifle so quick you're almost impressed as you both stare to your left. 
christ - just the fucking horse, tied to the tree. stepped on a twig. 
you let out a shaky breath, hand falling onto Joel's chest as you almost wheeze out a relieved laugh. but your hand feels it, suddenly - you notice how stiff Joel is, even after you've both realized there's no threats. 
his heart, thundering in his chest wildly. like a caged animal surrounded by a pack of wild, ravenous wolves; Joel's heart tries to scramble right out of his chest and onto the dead ground. 
that feeling - the one that creeps around at night when you wake up with memories of that cabin, of those raiders - of your past, visions of Joel, surrounded by red. that feeling that creeps up, squeezing at your throat and banging on your chest.
he's feeling it, too.
it's not from arousal, though you can see enough of that in his eyes, in the way his lips part and ragged breaths puff into the air - no, not arousal. 
fear. 
your heart hammers similarly, you suddenly notice. your hand shakes as it hovers near your knife; his hands grip the rifle so tight the blood may burst forth from the roughened skin any second. 
"hey," you whisper, suddenly worried to speak above any quiet noise. his eyes are sharp and his jaw clenched as he looks back at you, wild and alarmed. 
as if he were ready to fight for his life and yours. 
"let's go home," you whisper, thumb running over the shoulder of his jacket, muscles strained and still below the layers.
he snaps out of it, eyes falling to rake over you as if assuring that you're still in front of him in one piece. his hand finds yours on his chest, sliding it off - not unkindly; his hand squeezes yours before boosting you up onto the double saddle silently. 
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Joel insists on walking you back to your house; he's brooding, as normal, as you both trudge back from turning in your patrol log and tracking the mud from the stable through the quiet streets.
you don't speak about what happened in the woods - the kiss, nor the twig snapping, but you ache and as you walk, every brush of the backs of your hands send shooting sparks up your arm.
"damn it," he grunts under his breath as you lead him up your driveway. you lift a brow at him, silent prompt to explain his expletive. 
he shakes his head, "s'nothin'. forgot Ellie said the water heater ain't workin', said she was stayin' with her friend Dina till I fix it. cold shower for me tonight." 
you grimace; the air nips at your cheeks, you can't imagine a cold shower in this weather. you shrug, "use mine." you suggest, tilting your head. "no point in turning into an icicle, Miller, you're cold enough as is." you tease, sending him a small wink.
something in you wonders if the shower really is broken, or if he just can't bring himself to ask; not that you can blame him. you can't bring yourself to ask, either.
your heart flutters when Joel rolls his eyes but still trudges after you, through the entrance of your home. his eyes look just as tired as you feel but there's a spark to them, one that coaxes more warmth between your thighs.
you see his eyes catch on the partially-smoked joint put out on the ashtray on your kitchen table as you slide past it; you have a mind to grab it before you make your way up the stairs, pretending not to feel too hot when you feel Joel's eyes graze over the sway of your hips. 
he showers first, you insist. 
while he does so, you strip out of your clothes and into a more comfortable sleeping shirt and shorts. you sit, smoking lazily on the joint, savoring the sharp herbal taste as it flows into your blood and trying to ignore the throbbing desire when the sound of the shower shuts off. 
Joel's respectful when he leaves your bathroom, pants on and shirt tugged over his chest, speckled with dots of moisture. his hair is much darker and more curled just after a shower; you're transfixed as you stand in front of him, joint smoldering between your lips, an exhale of smoke swirling lazily from your nostrils. 
"may I?" he asks suddenly, causing you to nod, pulling the joint out from your lips and noting how his own dark eyes follow it like a horse to a carrot; you smirk, tutting. "and to think, all this time you've been judging me for it?" you shake your head. "shame on you."
his jaw ticks and you just smirk, shaking your head as you hold the joint up to his lips boldly. "you're a bad influence on me, aren't you, Mr. Miller?" you ask, voice sultry as you peer up at him through your lashes. his eyes flick to yours as he inhales, your fingers ghosting over his plush lips. the ones you kissed not an hour earlier.
the air is thick in your room, steam from the hot water creeping through as Joel inhales the weed, ember lighting up your eyes in his. you leave the joint between his parted lips, opting to strip down as you walk towards the shower, hoping Joel had the mind to watch as you go. 
your heart thuds in arousal and excitement when you hear his sharp exhale, still refusing to turn around as you leave the door slightly open once again. you and your innocent habit of leaving the bathroom door open when you shower.  
you're relieved there's some fog over the glass door of the shower, but you take your time cleansing your hair, running soap over your face and then slowly, slowly lathering up your skin. 
you can feel him watch the entire time.
his eyes are like a hawk's; you can see his shadow through the light of the bathroom, the ember of your joint glowing occasionally as your hands run over the wet planes of your skin.
your shaky fingers cascade down, over the skin of your stomach, lower until they just barely graze where you ache. it's like he's been waiting for you to finally start to touch yourself; just as your fingers find your slit, the amber of the joint is tamped, ashed on the windowsill. 
you hum lowly as your fingers swirl through your velvet folds, so wet you're dripping onto your upper thighs as your head thumps against the wall.
"Joel," you let yourself whimper, eyes fluttering shut before opening again languidly. 
Joel's footsteps are gentle as he slowly strides up to you; he lasted, admittedly, longer than you through this torturous game. through the glass, you see his tall frame and your legs quiver with desire - your aching cunt throbs as you move your hand over yourself, rinsing off the rest of the suds from your clean body as your fingers tease your bundle of nerves. your hips jolt; a choked moan from you as you slide the glass open slightly, cocking your head - "it's a shame you already showered," you mutter, fingers not ceasing as Joel's eyes rake over your naked for ravenously. 
he leans on the doorframe to the bathroom, eyes stern as he takes in your silhouette through the fogged glass, slowly rolling over the curves of your body to meet your eyes with flames alit in his own. 
"-it'd be nice to have some help." you shrug, gesturing to the bar of soap in your spare hand, eyes swimming with desire as your other hand continues the slow, torturous movements on your aching clit.
your eyes catch on his crotch; through the jeans, his cock is hard and straining already as if being stirred by just the sight of you, naked and whimpering for him in your shower. 
"I know you've always liked a show, though, haven't you?" you tease, lifting a brow as you recall the night Joel'd first seen you shower.
his jaw ticks at your words but it's like something in his snaps; he wastes little time ripping his shirt off, his patience clearly gone as you bite your lip, stepping back for him as his jeans finally slide off. 
his glowing, naked form crowds into your own as he slides into the shower with you. his eyes are sharp as his hand takes the soap from you; yet instead of running it over your skin like you'd hoped he would, he's tossing it to the side until it hits the wall of the shower and splinters into two. 
you gasp slightly as his hand grips your neck, tugging you close. his cock is hard, tip glistening with beads of precum already as he presses to your lower stomach, his body glued to yours; his nose slides along the plane of your collarbone gently, the shower water pelting rolling off your meshed bodies like some sort of sick baptism. 
"you smell clean, darlin'," he mutters against your kin, one hand sliding up to your scalp, threading through your hair. his tongue peeks out to lick a stripe up your throat. "taste clean, too-" 
his hand tightens suddenly, tugging your hair until your head snaps up to him - his eyes are dark, face full of desire. "so why're you pretending you need my help?" 
the condescension in his voice is intoxicating - your legs weaken, hands sliding up onto his hot skin under the water that cascades over him. 
your throat dries as you swallow, eyes wide as a rush of arousal threatens to drip down onto your bare thighs.
his head tilts, "s'because you want to put on a show, 's that it?" he asks, voice condescendingly sweet as he once again tightens his grip. you whimper at the sweet feeling, nodding slightly.
he smiles against your neck before pulling away, "fine. you can give me a show. get on your knees." he hums, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. your head feels dizzy at the words he says and the sweetness of his kiss; the most delicious juxtaposition.
"a show." he chuckles to himself, shaking his head darkly. "gonna make you a goddamn star."  
christ. your cunt squeezes around nothing, aching for him as his hands slide down to your shoulders. you nearly moan as he smirks, water cascading down his broad chest as he pushes you down; you sink to your knees, your wide eyes on his own as you move until you're close to his aching cock. 
he stands, towering above you as the shower head sprays directly onto his back; water runs off the broad expanse of his chest and you follow the droplets as they smooth over his stomach, down over the sprinkling of hair that trails to the base of his dick. you swallow, heart thundering impatiently as you sit on your haunches, waiting anxiously for him to tell you what to do. 
his brows raise, though, flush high on his cheeks from heat - or arousal - as he hums, "well?" 
you blink at him in surprise as he shakes his head down at you, his own hand falling to pump his long cock in languid strokes, the skin so close to you that you can almost feel the heat. if you were to lean out, just a bit, to taste- 
"christ, darlin' do I gotta tell you how to do everything?" he grunts, other hand cupping the back of your head, carding through your wet strands of hair as he tuts, "you were practically beggin' f'me earlier, now you're suddenly shy?" 
your face blooms in heat, "no, sir, I just-" at your words, his eyes fall back and a groan echoes through your bathroom, "-just suck my cock, darlin' c'mon." 
his impatience, desperation sends shivers down your spine and your mouth opens eagerly, tongue flattening as he slaps your tongue gently once, twice- 
you're always surprised by the size of Joel - each time, it catches you off guard; the head of his cock breaches your lips and his pre-cum smears over your tongue; the taste of him has you keening forward, eager to feel him in you, filling you up. 
"there you go, 's much better." he grunts, muttering as one hand slides around to hold your jaw. your eyes flutter up through your lashes and the falling shower water to stare at him, how big he is towering above you. his cock pushes into your warm mouth and you try your best to breathe through your nose, tongue sliding up the vein which reaches up towards his tip. his groan spurs you on and you gently start to bob your head, spit gathering at the sides of your mouth slowly as your knees press against the wet porcelain.
"you feel better like this, baby?" he mutters, your stomach tingling at his words. you can't nod - can't even make a noise as his hips slowly buck into you; you gag slightly and moan around his cock as it pushes to the back of your throat. 
"fuck-" he grunts, one hand leaning forward to place against the wet shower tiles; he's crowding you, now, pressing you into the back of the shower as his body takes the brunt of the water and takes and takes from you. 
anything Joel wants, he can fucking have it. 
"that's it, sweetheart-" he grunts, "fuckin'- take me." 
his hands grip yours, pulling them onto his thighs, muttering gently that if it's too much, you can slap his thigh; you nod, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as you keen towards him again, hungry to feel him in your throat again. 
your nails dig crescents into the meat of his thighs as he pushes your head right against the wall, fucking into your throat as his head tilts back. "tha's- right, look at you." he grunts, his lips parted as groans fall from his lip. the steam rises like tendrils from hell as you take Joel's length in your mouth, barely able to breathe in the most delicious way as he uses you. your spit trails over your chin and onto your bare chest as you stare up at him. one hand soothes over your forehead, wiping wet strands of hair plastered to your forehead, "you're a fuckin' star, baby." 
you heat at his words, stomach swirling as you shift uncomfortably, cunt puffy and aching for relief. 
your fingers grip onto him as he takes you in the shower, fucking your throat until you're dripping and aching and a writhing mess, his moans echoing around the empty home. 
"water's cold." he grunts, pulling his cock from your lips; you, weakly, chase the heat of him as he leaves your mouth, gasping for air and coughing slightly. 
he shuts off the water, suddenly, and you swallow as he turns back to you, eyes significantly softer than they'd just been; "somethin' wrong?" he teases, a dark smirk on his face as his eyes flicker to where your thighs press together to soothe the ache. 
you grit your teeth, shaking your head, "jus' want you to touch me, sir." you mutter, face burning at the way Joel never ceases to reduce you to a whimpering mess. 
he smiles one of those brilliant, radiant smiles. 
"that's all you had to say, darlin'." he shrugs, "told you, if you just learn to ask for it nicely, I'll give it to you." 
you shiver as you nod, taking his hand as he pulls you up off your sore knees, wrapping a towel around your form gently. he's so- commanding, yet still somehow keeping his kindness that often hides deep beneath his layers. 
you can't tear your eyes away, though - even as Joel starts to walk towards your open bedroom - your hand stops him on his naked shoulder. "will you please fuck me?" you ask, voice stronger than you'd expected it to be.
his eyes flicker with something as he tilts his head, "right here?" he lifts a brow as his hand snaked over your neck to pull you flush against him once again. "y'gonna beg me to fuck you against the sink because you're too desperate for my cock to walk to the bed?" he whispers it into the shell of your ear; a shiver as you whine, eyes blinking up at him, "been waiting all day, Joel, stop fucking teasing me." 
you notice your mistake too late; his jaw tenses as he bites down at the junction of your neck - you let out a sharp, whining moan as his teeth mark a love bite bright and center on your skin. "fuck- fuck, s-sorry, sir." you groan, eyes clenching shut in pleasure as his hands push you into the counter. 
"bet you're fuckin' sorry." he mutters lowly as he pulls away from you, flipping you quick to bend you over the vanity of the sink. you gasp as the cool wet porcelain hits your breasts, your nipples hard and sensitive as a sharp smack lands on your ass. 
"christ," he groans as you bend over, puffy lips soaked and glistening for him, "look at this pretty pussy." 
you move your hips slightly and his hands grip onto your waist - "quit that." he snaps, hands resuming their exploring. he grazes over the backs of your thighs, up the expanse of your spine. 
over your ass, groping and slapping, relishing in your small moans and sharp gasps. "don't move." he orders.
you sigh, head falling onto the sink as you nearly whimper - you're aching, throbbing as Joel teases you - "Joel," you whimper quietly, voice whiny and small. 
"what's wrong, y'tired of being teased?" he asks, voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. your cheeks are hot as you groan, "please, need to feel you inside of me-" 
he hums, smacking the flesh of your ass, "'f I don't warm you up you'll be sore, baby-" he tuts, "y'know I gotta get you ready." 
"I don't care, I can take it- I like it, just-" you stutter, face heated as you nearly scream in frustration, unable to voice how badly you just want him inside of you. 
he likes that - a thumb sliding over your cunt to spread your lips, exposing your pussy and ass to him as he hums. "too fuckin' eager, have to have my cock right now, 's that right?" he shakes his head with a dark smirk, hand teasing over your swollen lips as he nods, "yeah, s'alright, I'll give it to you whenever you ask." 
"thank you," you wheeze, letting out a shaky sigh when Joel leans down, spitting directly onto your asshole, thumb sliding over the tight ring as he hums, "so desperate for me, couldn't even wait 'till we get back to town, could you? had to try an' fuck me right there in the woods." he doesn't wait for you to respond as he spits down again, this time the slick spit sliding down onto your seeping cunt. his hand leaves, replacing with the thick, teasing head of his cock.
you gasp, rising on your toes as the blunt tip of his dick spreads your cunt, teasing your clit before notching at your entrance. "gonna fill up every hole tonight, baby, y'gonna let me?" 
you let out a whine, "fuck, yes, please." you nod, cunt fluttering around the tip of his cock. 
the stretch is painful; you expected it, craved it - you let out an animalistic moan when he slides in a few inches. "oh-" you whimper, legs tensing as Joel kneads the flesh of your ass, pressing his bare chest to your spine as he mouths along the base of your neck, "relax, baby, so fuckin' tight-" he groans as he slides in slowly, "let me in, sweetheart, c'mon-" 
a rush of arousal and he's fully seated within you, the sting of his cock in you subsiding as a growing desire mounts until you can't take it. "move- m-move, now, please." you rush, hips pushing back against Joel's impatiently. 
"shit," Joel hisses as he pulls out of you slightly - a long, thick drag against your velvety cunt and you groan at the sweet bliss of being filled up. you moan as he thrusts forward, tip hitting the perfect spot that already, as his pace builds, has a simmering coil deep within you. 
"thought- thought about it all day," you admit, hands finding purchase on the counter as he starts to fuck into you, your tits sliding as they press against the sink. "on the horse, thought abo-" you moan sharply as his thumb grazes over your asshole, spreading the slick and his spit around the tight ring. "fuck, sir- that feels good." you moan. he groans in response and the words fly from your lips - "you drive me crazy, so big, t-touching me all the time. dream about you filling me up- s-stuffing me full, even out in the woods-" 
your words are too much for Joel, apparently, because his hand slaps over your mouth and his voice whispers, "sh-shut the fuck up, darlin', y'needa be quiet or I'm gonna finish before this even starts." he grunts, hips snapping into yours as he picks up the pace. 
you whimper at his words, arousal gushing from you and coating his cock in your slick; the wet slapping of your bodies echoing through the bathroom. "fuck-" he drags out the word, fingers sliding over your lips to prod at your mouth, "here- suck, darlin' - there you go, good girl, that's right." 
your tongue slides over his fingers, eyes fluttering closed as you feel his thumb breach your tight hole; a sudden rush of pleasure runs through you as it hits you - Joel's everywhere. he's filling you completely - his thumb slowly fucks your tight ring of muscle as his cock spears your cunt; his fingers, pressing down on your tongue as you whimper and moan around him. 
a groan leaves his full lips; "fuck- look at me." he grunts, hand sliding up your throat to pull your jaw towards your reflection. "look at me, baby-" his fingers slide back into your mouth as your eyes meet the fire in his through the mirror. 
"always tell me when you feel like this, 'kay?" he asks, brows stern as he rams his hips into you; his thumb fills you and fucks into you at a slower speed than his cock, sending searing pleasure through your entire body.
your flesh moves at the impact of his hips and you cry out as his cock hits the delicious spot inside you that curls your toes. his thumb slips from your ass and you whimper dejectedly; the full feeling subsiding slightly as his hand grips your tits, pinching your nipple as he hums in your ear.  "don't want my pretty little slut feeling so needy all the time, right?" he mutters, nosing at your hair as he fucks into you with no abandon. your fingers clench to the sides of the sink as you let out a strangled, "yes, sir-" 
"so if you use your words, I'll give you anything you want." he groans, hand smacking your ass as the other squeezes your jaw. you nod, agreeing with his words though his cock has rendered you nearly speechless. he hums in approval before muttering, "now you're goign to play with your clit until you cum." 
you let your eyes roll back at the commanding tone as your hand snakes down to rub tight, blisteringly pleasurable circles over your bundle of nerves.
but it's immediately too much so soon; you're already so close to your orgasm that a jagged gasp falls from your lips, jumping at the feeling.
"no, 's too much," you moan, head falling back as your finger teases your clit, flames of pleasure licking up isnide you.
but Joel smirks, "why're you still doin' it, then?" he teases, cock hitting so deep and bruising that you think you may see stars. 
you moan out, "w-wanna cum, wanna make you happy, Joel." you whimper, completely forgetting to call him sir; but you feel his brows furrow as a moan ripples from his lips - "y'makin' me real happy right now, darlin', look at you. fucked out on this old man's cock, doin' whatever I say, desperate and willing. you're perfect, aren't you?" 
you shiver in pleasure at his praise, fingers shaking as you rub your clit, trying so hard not to ruin your orgasm by cumming too soon. his cock spears into you at a pace that will certainly bruise your hips; your breath is punched out of you, your gasps and moans painting the air.
"say it, baby." he orders, hand stroking your breast a staunch contradiction to his brutal pace. "tell me how perfect you are for me." 
you wail, head falling back onto his broad, thick shoulder as he runs his mouth over your shoulder, nipping as he goes. you're out of breath - "p-perfect, I'm perfect for you Joel, fuck, don't stop. so good, so good-" you mumble, fucked out after only a few minutes. 
he hums, nodding into you. "taught you well, didn't I? you're my perfect little star." 
you nod, "yes, sir, thank you-" you squeal in pleasure as he strokes long and slow, pushing you nearly to the brink as your legs shake. you can't take it, though - your fingers stop their ministrations, shaking and burning as you pull away from your clit, so close from just his cock and-
a slap to your cheek as Joel's lips bite into your jaw, "put your fuckin' hand back right now. you don't stop 'till I tell you to." 
you swallow shakily, shaking your head, "I can't- it's too much, I can't-" 
"fine." he snaps, slapping your cheek again before one hand slips to grip hard at your shoulder, lifting one of your legs up onto the sink; his other hand snakes down to pinch your tortured clit and you scream as he grunts in your ear, "I'll do it myself."
he's unforgiving on your quivering cunt, barely able to stay upright as he pushes you down, your cheeks pressing to the cool counter as he pounds down into you, shooting you into a hurtling race towards your orgasm. 
he brutally fucks into you in a blinding pace. you nearly scream as white-hot pleasure rips through you, your hands falling to the counter as he coaxes a mind-bending orgasm from you. you see white as you cum, pulsing and writhing over his cock as it spears into you, splitting you open. 
"that's it, baby-" he lets out a loud moan, biting into your neck as he continues the brutal pace, "jesus- s'fucking tight, baby, can barely move-" his hands fall to your hips, using you as a fuck toy to finish himself off; you're still writhing with the ecstasy of the orgasm, relishing in the way his hands hold you. 
"where're you gonna take me, baby?" he grunts, voice strained: he's so close. 
you scramble, holding his hips as you nearly pass out - pleasure too much. "cum on my ass, please sir." you mutter, heat licking up your throat as the words come out. 
he moans and pulls out of you suddenly, hand flying from your skin to his cock, a slick noise as he quickly tugs himself until hot spurts of his cum paint the skin of your ass. "pretty girl," he grunts to himself, "an' you're all mine." 
you hum, moaning quietly as his thumb soothes over your skin, spreading his cum over your ass and pressing it slightly against your ass. your cunt flutters in arousal at the action and he hums, "y'like that, don't you, pretty girl?" 
you nod as you let out a shaky sigh and he presses a kiss to your spine, "good." it's a whisper on your skin, a promise. 
he's barely grabbed a towel to wipe his cum off your skin before you're turned around on jelly legs - his strong arms pull you in so fast you barely have a second to straighten out - he's nuzzling into your wet hair in a way that has your heart thumping and your throat dry.
his heart beats against your cheek, body warm, chest heaving along with yours.  
heat, affection - they swirl in your chest as his bare body cradles yours. intimately. 
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your sweet skin is sticky with sweat when Joel comes to, out of the bliss of his and your orgasms. 
he's just as sweaty as you, though the clean skin and foggy mirror have started to clear up. Joel nearly huffs a short laugh at the thought of taking yet another shower - christ knows the two of you are once again filthy - but he kind of likes it, in a way. a secret. 
he brushes it off when he feels your fingers curl around his arm; he had barely noticed that he'd tugged you upright and right into his chest, holding you as tight as he could. for some reason, his mind reaches back to earlier in the evening, when he'd heard that branch - the fear, the panic that'd risen in him. he's not sure why, or at least, he won't think about it. you hadn't mentioned it, but he'd seen your hands shake and your eyes cloud with fear.
something for another time, because he has you warm and pliant and naked in his arms. he barely noticed how his lips press at your hairline; it's just... well, feels natural.
like you both need it. 
"stay here, please." you ask meekly, quietly. the first words spoken in a minute; you're swallowing around the nerves and anxiety that crawl in your chest, he can tell. he feels them, too. 
he's taken aback as he stares at you - you both have patrol again in the morning, is it not... aren't you going to get tired of him?
won't you find him annoying, or gross in the morning when he inevitably pulls you closer in his sleep, when the dreams are too real and he shoots up in bed?
the panic subsides as he stares into your warm eyes, hopeful, bashful. he smiles gently, biting through the smile in embarrassment at how willing he is to stay. he'd stay forever if you asked.
Joel nods through his surprise, though, his body and heart and head aching to lie with you once again, to feel the calmest sleep he's had in years. 
"course, darlin', I'll..." he pulls you in closer, so he doesn't have to look at those damn eyes when he finally admits it -
"I'll stay as long as you want." 
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feedback welcome as always :') <3
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797 notes · View notes
eli0004 · 25 days
Text
Fuck me With Feelings
Pairing: Fwb!Jean Kirstein x reader
Genre: Smut
Summary: Jean and reader have been casually fucking, but Jean quickly learns that the whole no strings attached thing isn’t working for him. After confessing to reader, he’s unsatisfied with her response, but neglects to say anything and resumes their meetups as usual. He quickly finds out how badly he misunderstood, when the two of them engage in some very heavy, passionate and emotional sex on the kitchen floor.
Contains: marijuana usage, fem!reader, unprotected sex, fwb arrangement, praise, slight overstimulation, jean talks too much, biting, possessiveness, pining, jean is in love and SO soft for reader, fluffy shit, yk…the usual, no power dynamics.
“Wait…grab me the salt” You speak, lowering the cookbook to look at the tall male standing in front of you.
“Salt.” Jean announces as he sets the small white shaker on the counter beside you. You nod curtly, glancing at him out of the corner of your bleary red eyes with a smile as you turn back to the mixing bowl in front of you. Time is moving in slow motion, and all you can think about is getting some food in your stomach.
“Thanks. Now, it says we’re supposed to pour the mixture into the pan? Wait…shit, aren’t we supposed to butter the pan first?”
The two of you look at each other in shared confusion for a moment, before he begins laughing. You scoff in annoyance, rolling your eyes and shoving the cook book towards him to see for himself.
“Jesus Jean, can you be serious for 5 minutes?” You glare. The sandy-blonde stops laughing and looks at you with an unreadable expression, brown eyes glimmering with mischief before you both erupt in laughter.
As the giggles die out, he pokes at your side, causing you to jump in surprise, before stepping away from the counter.
“Alright alright, out of the way.” He sighs happily, taking the bowl from your hand. “Just leave it to the professional.” He turns up his nose, grinning playfully, as you roll your eyes and groan at his feigned arrogance. You slap his shoulder as you move away from the counter to change the music playing through your kitchen speaker.
It’s a Friday night, and the rain is coming down in sheets, slamming against your windows aggressively. Jean, dressed in a pair of grey sweats and a black oversized hoodie, had come over earlier in the evening as he has so many times before, although this time in particular, different from the rest. His demeanor had seemed slightly off, and it was clear something was on his mind, though he only seemed frustrated when you’d initially prodded.
The two of you had been seeing each other for months in secret, having mutual friends who would tease you both relentlessly if they found out you two were fucking. Because that’s all it was anyway, just harmless fucking. No strings attached, just blowing off steam. There wasn’t any need to announce it, and the both of you would’ve rather kept your business to yourselves anyway.
As time went on, however, Jean found himself hopelessly in love, having accidentally attached all the strings you’d told him to leave unattached. Your twinkling eyes, your sweet smile, the first thought he thinks in the morning, the last one of the night. Unbeknownst to him, the feeling was mutual, and you’d also quickly found yourself wanting to spend more time together outside of the bedroom. Earlier that morning, in a burst of courage Jean had texted you:
“i don’t think i can keep fucking with no feelings. I’m sorry…i just don’t know how to turn them off.”
Without much thought, you typed out a response:
“Ok…fuck me with feelings then. Duh.”
And that was that. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, stomach in knots all day, and a permanent frown etched onto his face. He felt defeated, stupid, for thinking he could stay away from you even if you didn’t feel the same.
The day progressed as usual, Jean arrived at your place 8 PM as usual, the two of you got violently high together as usual. By midnight, hungry and handsy, the two of you ended up in the kitchen trying to follow a recipe for skillet gnocchi, despite your altered cognitive abilities.
“Professional” Jean Kirstein is actually pretty good at cooking when he isn’t stoned out of his mind. But the task at hand is proving to be difficult now. The man stares at the skillet on the stove in confusion as you flip through your Spotify playlist. Recognizing the silence, you turn to him and glance over his shoulder.
“Everything ok over there?” You ask, raising a brow.
“Nothing is happening.” He states, matter of factly.
“Did you turn on the stove?”
“Oh..” He blushes furiously, thick brows pulling together as he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Well, shit” You immediately burst into laughter, slapping his shoulder a second time, affectionately.
“Wow! So “professional” of you!” You all but shout, doubled over against the counter and clutching your stomach. He rolls his hazy honey brown eyes, unamused at your exploitative jokes.
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” He grumbles, turning away from you to find the stove dial. You sigh contentedly as your laughter subsides.
“Oh Jeanbo~ you’re so fucking cute…” you hum mindlessly, gazing at him with a dopey smile.
Jean freezes. It’s the first time he’s ever really heard you say something like that, and the affection dripping from your words has his stomach fluttering and his mind reeling. It’s unfair, really, and it irritates him. He turns to look at you in surprise, brows furrowed, eyes meeting yours before he looks to the ceiling. His reddened cheeks puff out as he contemplates a response.
“Uh…you mean that?” He asks, suddenly feeling vulnerable. His eyes scan your face for any signs of dishonesty, wondering if you might be playing with his heart to get what you want from him. The way you’ve been speaking to him tonight is so drastically different than how you’ve been treating him for the last few months. Not that you’ve been treating him poorly, you’ve just never been this open about how you feel towards him. Your words feel deliberate and meaningful whereas before you’d only compliment him like that when your eyes were lust-blown and your hands were all over his body.
“Obviously, i thought we established that this morning” you deadpan, head tilting to the side.
“No, not really, i actually had no idea what to make of it.”
There’s a moment of silence as you two stare at each other, before the realization hits and you begin to feel guilty. Had your message not been as clear as you’d initially hoped it would be? Unsure of what to say, you close your mouth. Jean takes your silence as confirmation, and sighs, shoulders slumping dejectedly, quietly turning back to the stove to turn it on.
Thinking for a moment, you frown, drawing shapes on the countertop with eyes cast down like a kicked puppy. Wiggling out of your seat, you approach him where he stands at the stove, gazing up at him with a soft, nearly sympathetic smile. He doesn’t dare look at you, afraid his burning face will betray him, knocking down his mask of fragile-aloofness.
“Jean…” you tilt your head to the side, hair falling over your shoulder. Bringing a hand to his back, you draw slow, gentle circles there. He shivers, but his silence is unwavering. “Baby~ you know something?” You hum.
Jean glances at you and shrugs, tossing some stuff you don’t care to look at into the pan.
“I think you’re so handsome. I think you’re adorable, and goofy, and sweet. I think anyone would be lucky to be the object of your affection. I feel lucky that i get to be…” you coo at him, your hand dipping below his hoodie to scratch his bare back, how he likes it. He can’t help but smile at your words, blinking slowly as he turns to look down at you, your faces only a few inches apart from each other. “Yeah?” He whispers “go on”
You snort, rolling your eyes playfully at his blatant request for praise, and reach out to click the stove off, having a feeling about where this was going to lead.
“You’re funny, you always make me laugh…“ you whisper “You’re strong” squeezing his bicep slightly with your other hand, you rake your eyes down his body. “So sexy~”
The man’s cheeks are impossibly red, his head is spinning and his body feels like it’s burning up as he listens to you sing his praises. He glances down at your lips, nearly nose to nose with you as he grins. “What else?”
You smirk, beckoning him to turn and face you head on and pressing your body against his own. Your hands place themselves on his chest as you murmur “You’re all mine.”
Something feral snaps within him and he all but attacks your lips, pinning your hips against the counter with his own. Your hands scramble to grab onto the fabric of his hoodie, desperately yanking at it as you peel it off of him. Your lips dance together fervently, pressing against each other with such passion, as if he’s worried you’ll slip away from him if he doesn’t hold you tightly enough.
He shoves his hands under your college sweatshirt, running his warm palms over your bare breasts and brushing his thumbs over your peaked nipples. His touch draws a sharp gasp from your mouth against his lips, and he swallows the sound of it.
You lick against his bottom lip and he accepts it urgently, parting his lips and moving his eager tongue in rhythm with your own. Tangling your hands into the roots of his sandy blonde hair, you push your hips forward to grind against his erection and he throbs, soft, sweet groans muffled against your lips.
Jean grips your waist tightly, pulling you against him as he backs himself up against the counter, sliding down to the floor. Pulling you on top of him, he settles you against his lap, tossing his head back when your lips attach to the column of his throat.
“Fuck baby…fuck” he gasps, feeling you sucking bruises into the skin. All visible places, and he knows why. The possessiveness, the feeling of finally belonging to you, it sends waves of intense arousal coursing through his bloodstream. Every movement you make, grinding your hips down against his hard cock sends his mind reeling with pleasure, senses wildly heightened by the pot in your systems.
“Gonna tell everyone that you’re mine baby, i’m so…fuck- happy you’re mine” he groans, guiding your hips to move against. You gasp softly at the friction, becoming increasingly wetter by the minute.
You pull away and quickly shimmy out of your pants, as best as you can while straddling the man’s lap. He brings his fingers down, eyeing the cute panties you wear before yanking them aside to collect your arousal on his fingers.
“Fuck..you’re so wet for me, all for me” he growls as he dips his slick digits into your pussy. His fingers are long, nimble, and curl up deliciously into the spongy spot inside you. You moan softly, feeling every inch of his middle and forefinger in places that your own fingers could never hope to reach.
“Oh god..Jean~ Fuck me” you moan out, rutting against his hand. He slides his fingers out of your hole, rubbing them against your clit and covering it in your own arousal. Tossing your head back, you groan at the loss of internal sensation, but you have no time to be disappointed as you hear him eagerly yanking the waistband of his sweats and underwear down to let his aching cock spring free. He’s leaking more than you’ve ever seen, precum dripping down the slit of his sensitive head and collecting below his navel.
Leaning in for another eager kiss, you swat his hand away and wrap your fingers around his shaft. He’s so deliciously thick, you can almost feel the stretch, the memory of it causing your cunt to throb. Biting his lip gently, you give him a few languid strokes, spreading the sticky precum over the length of him and guiding him to your entrance. His mind is hazy, he jolts as the sensation overwhelms him. You feel different this time, though he can’t pinpoint why.
You slide his tip through the slick folds of your pussy, before enveloping him in your wet warmth. jean nearly chokes on the strangled moan that erupts from his chest as you pull away from the kiss to toss your head back, breathing out a soft “fuck”.
His hands eagerly grip your waist, guiding you up and down on him slow and passionate. The pleasure coursing through him is building quickly in the form of an impending, earth shattering orgasm at the very core of his abdomen. The coil in his tummy, while not unfamiliar, is seemingly more intense than it’s ever been, he won’t last long. Why is he getting close so fast?
Suddenly it occurs to him as you bring your lips back to his own, kissing him passionately, and packed full of raw, unfiltered emotion. He feels wanted, he feels loved, he feels complete. Perhaps it’s the intimacy of having himself sheathed inside of you raw for the first time, it must be. Sex with you has never felt so intense and fulfilling than it does in this moment.
Your hips are moving quicker now as you chase your orgasm, every inch, every ridge, every vein of his length stroking your insides like it was hand crafted to fit there. Feeling your legs tense up, and your stomach begin to tighten, you throw your arms around Jean’s neck and pull him close, biting down on the muscle of his broad shoulder as you cum impossibly hard, eyes rolling back with a loud moan. He snakes his arms around your waist, holding you tightly there as he snaps his hips up into you, slamming into your cervix like his life depends on it. The feeling of your teeth in his skin threatens to push him over the edge.
“Baby! Right there- oh god keep doing that, don’t let go of me!” He rasps against the shell of your ear, and as you sink your teeth in deeper, mewling softly at the overstimulation, Jean cums with such intensity, he thinks he might ascend. More and more spurts out of him, and his body convulses with every rope of it, lurching him forward to moan loudly, muffled into your hair.
The sound of ragged breaths and sharp gasps echo off the kitchen walls as you both come down from the high of your orgasm, bodies tangled together and unmoving. After a minute, Jean’s hand finds itself in your hair, running his fingers through it affectionately. Something he’s wanted to do for a long time. He gazes down at you with adoration replacing old lust, smiling softly as you pull back to look at him.
The two of you stay that way for a minute or two, just panting against each other before he speaks.
“So…uh- does this mean-“ he glances down at the floor and then back up to meet your eyes.
“You’re never gonna get away from me” you grin, plopping down against his chest in exhaustion as you giggle slightly. He bites his lip, excitement bubbling up in him like a little kid, as he holds you tightly.
“Why would i ever wanna?”
155 notes · View notes
calumfmu · 2 days
Note
steve who steals eddie’s girl 😉 sorry eddie
Hiii babe, ugh I love this idea. Took a little different route with it, hope that's okay. 2.4k+ words of pure smut, so here we go. Steve x reader (steals her from Eddie) cw: 18+, mdni, pure smut, p in v, unprotected sex, eating out reader, fingering, cream pie, cheating (don't do it pls), reader is a bad person sorry y'all <3
You sat in the crowded living room, bodies pressed against one another, dense smoke filling the air, fragrant smell of liquor filling the room as the liquid splashed from cups onto the wood floor. Eddie sat by your side, hand on your knee to comfort you, other one stretched out in a deal, cash taken in as a baggie of marijuana left it.
You hated these things, or so you claimed. Hated being around his dealings, wanted to be as far from it as possible. He had to make a living somehow, so you preferred that ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ model that silently governed your relationship.
“You okay, hon?” Eddie whispered to you, you responded with a subtle nod, eyes searching the crowd. He hummed, returning to another ‘patron’ as he called it, them sitting across from him.
It had been suspicious, you jumping at the offer to attend Eddie’s deal, at the ever so famous Steve Harrington’s house party. They weren’t friends, far from it, only in communication when the latter wanted drugs.
‘It’s no big deal,’ you muttered, hurriedly applying blush to your cheeks. You stared at yourself in the vanity of your room, Eddie lingering behind you with his arms crossed.
‘You never want to come,’ he bluntly stated, watching your makeup appear on your face. ‘Why now?’
You threw down the brush, hearing the clatter of it hitting the wood. Turning in your seat, you made eye contact with him, eyes wide as you put on a pout.
‘A girl can’t want to spend time with her handsome boyfriend?’
It did the trick. Eddie folding immediately, smile brushing his features as he gave his interrogation up. You slowly turned back to the mirror, masking the guilt that came up with a smear of lipstick on your mouth. He didn’t have to know the real reason behind wanting to attend, he couldn’t know.
He appeared in the crowd, his perfectly coiffed hair, voluminous as ever, perfectly mole dotted face smiling brightly as he greeted the people in his home. It was like time stopped, a light shining down from heaven as you watched him.
You felt Eddie’s hand slip from your knee, meeting the aluminum tin that sat in his lap.
Steve crossed the room closer in your direction, eyes searching the crowd one final time before they landed on you, smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. There was a barely there nod of his head, gesturing upstairs as his gaze danced between you and the man who sat beside you.
Before you could gesture anything back, he disappeared, swallowed up by the crowds around him. You shot up, smoothing down the skirt on your thighs.
“Where you going?” Eddie asked, hand finding your wrist as you took a step. His eyes were concerned, wide as he looked up at you.
“Uhhh… bathroom,” you said, pulling away from him before you could say anything else. Something was shouted at you from him, but you ignored it, set on your path to locate the Harrington boy.
Clearing the stairs, you wandered down the hall, opening and shutting unlocked doors in your path. Just as you were about to give up on your search, a door opened to your left, a pair of hands pulling you in swiftly with the shut of door behind you.
“Jesus, Steve,” you whisper-shouted, throwing your fists at his chest, as he pulled you into him. His hands were on your waist, tight grip as he began to nuzzle his face into your neck.
“Missed you,” he muttered, pressing light kisses to the area. Your head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as the wetness of his mouth found that sensitive spot under your ear.
“We, ah,” you moaned, lifting onto the bathroom counter as Steve began to take off your clothes, an article of his being thrown off in between every two items of your own. He left his jeans on, unbuttoned at the top. “We gotta be quick.”
“Lover boy’s here?”
His voice was strained as he began to kiss down your chest, his fingers pulling down your bra to mouth at your nipple, the cold air hardening it immediately. Your back arched at the touch, mouth dropping open as pleasure took over you.
His fingers dipped low, toying at the hem of your panties as his mouth licked at your breast, sucking and nipping lightly. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, urging a moan out of his mouth.
“Come on, Steve,” you rushed, pushing his head slightly as he teased you by pressing a few kisses to your sternum. His eyes were looking at yours, that familiar look glinting behind them as an eyebrow arched.
“Gotta beg for it, honey,” he teased, that nickname falling from his lips with a hint of sarcasm. He made fun of the way Eddie said it, hating the way he got to call you that in public. “You know how this works.”
You leaned back all the way, shoulder blades hitting the cool glass of the mirror. Your legs spread, inviting him in further as he fell to his knees. His fingers slowly pulled down your underwear, teasing in fashion as he pressed kisses to your legs where they got caught.
“Steve,” you dragged out, massaging his scalp. “Need it.”
“Need what?” He licked at the top of your thigh.
“I need you, Steve.”
“Steve?” He mocked, pressing a kiss right above your clit.
“Baby.” You corrected, trying to pull him in.
He leaned back slightly, pushing at your hands. “Uh uh.”
Fuck. Your head hit the glass, loud sound filling the room.
“Baby, I need you so bad,” you whined, spreading your legs even further. He kissed the side of your slit, wetness pressing at the corner of his mouth. “It hurts.”
He smirked, satisfied as he leaned in to your wet cunt, tongue diving in. He started out slow, tongue lapping up your wetness, dipping between your folds. It was different than the other times you had done this, normally rushed hand jobs given under bleachers, you bent down in the back of his car, sneaking into your bedroom in the middle hours of the night.
His tongue traced circles around your clit, massaging the bud as you nearly rose off the counter, whimpering at the press of his finger to your hole.
“Just like that, baby.”
You moaned, eyes rolling back as he moved his tongue side to side, head in tune with the movement. He was eating you like he was starved, sucking at your clit harshly, loud slurping noises filling the air. His finger slipped in, curling against your spongy wall, hitting that spot almost immediately.
You cried out, thighs quivering as a pool of wetness escaped you, hitting his tongue. He moaned at the taste of you, delving in deeper, tongue joining his finger inside of you. Another one of his digits entered, spreading you wide as he scissored them in and out, deep as they could go.
“I want you to cum for me, honey,” he whispered against you, flat of his tongue licking up your slit. You looked down to find him staring, face shiny with your slick. “Wanna taste you.”
You mewled at him, resting you thigh on his shoulder, hooking your ankle to bring him in closer. His response to it was loud, one of his hands leaving your thigh to press at the front of his pants from where he kneeled.
His movements increased, your orgasm drawing in closer as he fingered you, wet noises becoming louder. Your abdomen tightened, mind blanking as it coursed through you, mouth dropped open in a silent scream. You could feel him smirking at your cunt, tongue lightly lapping over your sensitive clit, laughing as you pushed him off of you.
He attempted leaning in once more, your hands pulling him up to you by his collar.
“We don’t have a lot of time, baby,” you said, hands pushing down his jeans in a rush you hadn’t seen before. His hands raised to his sides, letting you free him as his clothes were shoved to his mid thigh.
His cock sprung free, swollen and red, precum pooled at the tip as it hit the air. It was mouth watering, the sight in front of you, his dark thatch of hair nestling his cock, the sheer length of it needing to be felt everywhere.
Your hand began to work it, squeezing at the head, watching the liquid drip from the top. Steve’s breath became shallow, his head dropped low as he stared down at your hand.
“Fuck, honey, I’m not gonna last,” he shook his head, taking a step closer to you, a chaste kiss being pressed to your mouth.
He shook your hand from him, replacing it with his own as he lined himself up with you, other hand pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. Immediately, your knees locked at the side of his hips, full access given to him.
Slowly pressing in, the two of you groaned, eyes closing briefly as you sheathed him. His hips stuttered before he pressed to the hilt, waiting a moment before he thrusted again, the force of it shifting your hips on the counter.
“Fuck, baby.”
“Tell me how good it feels,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you rocked together. Your hand shot out, steadying yourself on the surface as items clattered off of the counter, falling to the floor.
“So fu-fucking good, baby.”
“You like when I fuck you, hon?”
“Love it, ah fuck, I love it, I love it.” Your rambles made no sense, babbling escaping your mouth as you became cock-drunk, mind only focused on him.
“I’m gonna make you mine,” he whispered into your hair, hips slamming into yours. He was close, you could tell by the deep breaths he took, the faltering of his hips as he tried to maintain a rhythm.
You are getting close yourself, his hand dipping low to rub circles at your clit, quick, in tune with his thrusts. It built between your legs, legs shaking as you drew your knee up his side. Another item went flying off the counter, his other hand shooting up to press on the counter as he neared his high.
“I’m already yours.”
With a low groan, he came, eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you through it, shallow thrusts riding out his orgasm. You followed his lead, the attention on your clit becoming too much in combination with his movements.
Catching your breath, he remained in you, his mouth pressed to the top of your head as you leaned into him, chest heaving. If the setting was different, you could fall asleep right then and there, safe and sound in his arms.
A loud knock on the door brought you out of your shared high. That ever so familiar voice sounded out through the door, calling out your name.
“You in there? Someone said they saw you,” Eddie called out, voice sounding worried. You shushed Steve as he pulled away from you, leisurely pulling his clothes on as you rushed, scared in your movements.
“I’m fine!” You called out, eyeing the way Steve shook his head at you, mouthing ‘No!’ His hands gripped at his own throat, tongue sticking out as he exaggerated a charade of throwing up. You made a face at him, yet following his lead. “I got sick ac-actually! Must’ve ate something bad, just give me a minute!”
There was a moment of silence, the subtle signs of Eddie behind the door.
“Uh.. alright. I’ll be downstairs, okay?” His footsteps were heard as they walked away. Steve turned to you, eyebrows cocked in amusement.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he laughed, dodging the hit you threw in his direction. “But it’s time for you to make your decision, hon.”
You looked at him funny, confused at where he was going. He leaned against the door frame, eyes running over your body as you pulled your shirt on.
“You said you’re already mine, so time to prove it,” he smirked, winking at you. You flushed in your face, suddenly becoming shy.
“Steve—I don’t even know what to sa—“
“Just go home, pretend you’re sick or something, and I’ll pick you up,” he said, walking towards you to grab your face between his hands. He pecked your nose, wide, brown eyes taking up his features.
“W-what about the party?” You were still on your high, voice shaking from the come down that started to take place.
“I don’t care,” he scoffed, laughing as he adjusted your bra strap. It poked out of your shirt, his careful fingers putting it back into place. “I��ll figure it out. What you have to worry about is being ready later.”
You opened your mouth to say something, immediately shutting it as Steve exited it, winking at you one last time. Moving into the hallway to go after him, he was gone, out of sight like he was never even there. You made your way down the steps, feet heavy as you saw your long haired boyfriend leaning against the banister.
He perked up when he saw you, standing to full attention as you neared him. You crossed your arms over your chest, avoiding the excessive eye contact he gave you.
“Hey honey,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. His smile dipped when you moved away from it, faux smile of your own coming up to mask it.
“Sorry—I just… sorry,” you said, beginning to walk in front of him as you lead the way to his van.
“It’s okay,” he said, jogging slightly to catch up to him. He took your hand into his own, pulling it away from its perch on your chest. “We could do something, you know, to get your mind off of you being sick. Watch a movie at mine? Like normal?”
You stayed silent for a minute, thinking of your options. On one hand, you had Eddie, sweet, caring Eddie, bad boy presenting nerd, quite possibly the healthiest relationship you’d been in. But you were bored. On the other hand, there was Steve. Fucked like he loved you, pretty boy, not the brightest one, but God, did you love that about him.
It was now or never. You looked at Eddie, features melting as he smiled down at you, his toothy grin adorned with dimples. His curly hair fell around his face, brown eyes nearly black, huge on his face. He was perfect. Everything you had asked for in a boyfriend, and you got it.
“I think I’m just gonna go home, Eds. Not really feeling that good. That okay?” You avoided his eyes, that same guilt bubbling up.
“Yeah, honey. Whatever you want,” he pressed one more kiss to your head and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him.
Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open <3
121 notes · View notes
nicksnosering · 4 months
Text
I Hate Myself For Loving You
~Toxic Chris Sturniolo One Shot~
TW: toxic! chris, marijuana, no aftercare, chris is a dick
This is my first story I've ever posted on tumblr, so pls be nice!
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me: hey, you coming over tonight?
read at 9:06pm
It’s been 4 hours since I sent that text, and almost 2 since it was marked as ‘read’. I bit my lip, sighing as the internal debate on whether I should double text or not was practically eating me alive. Grabbing my phone that I’d been trying too hard to ignore off of my nightstand, I swiped it open and decided fuck it.
me: christopher. stop ignoring me.
The response came through almost immediately.
DO NOT ANSWER: why?
I rolled my eyes, pushing aside my pride as I sent my next message.
me: just come over.
DO NOT ANSWER: i’m busy.
me: doing what, fucking ur other bitches?
DO NOT ANSWER: yeppppp
me: ok 👌🏼
I groan out of frustration, throwing my phone back onto my nightstand. God, he’s infuriating. We’ve been fucking for close to five months now, and every time it seemed like there was any sort of breakthrough, like maybe he actually liked me or cared about me, we went right back to where we started. I press play on the remote, but my mind is spinning far too fast for me to actually focus on the TV.
I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. If he’s going to treat me like an option instead of a priority, he can go fuck himself. I grab my phone off of my nightstand again, hovering over his name before shaking my head and pressing ‘Block Contact’. Just like that, five months down the drain. 
I ignore the aching feeling in my chest, like I’m about to be ripped open from the inside, snuggling further in my sheets and letting the warmth envelop me before slowly drifting off to sleep.
The peacefulness of being unconscious didn’t last long. 
I woke to the sound of my front door being pounded on so hard, the hinges sounded like they were about to fly off. I turn and check the time on my phone blearily, the screen reading 2:13am. I pull the covers off and pad over to the door, rubbing my eye as I unlock it. The door immediately opens, and I look up to find Chris staring at me, eyes slightly red and hair messy. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are narrowed, briefly looking me up and down before brushing past me and walking straight into my living room.
“Get out, Chris,” I say tiredly, vaguely gesturing toward the open door I’m still holding.
“Nah, I’m good,” he responds, falling back onto my couch and kicking his feet up, resting them on the coffee table. His hands go into his hoodie pocket, and I watch as he pulls out a preroll and a lighter.
“I’m serious. Get the fuck out,” I say, slightly more aggressively, ignoring the way my heart squeezes in my chest. I watch as he flicks the lighter and the end of the preroll turns a bright red. He takes a hit, inhaling deeply and looking back up at me.
“So am I,” he breathes out. “You’re not going to block me and expect me not to fucking show up expecting an explanation.”
I shut the door and sit down next to him on the couch, turning to him. His hand immediately goes to wrap around my waist, and I hate myself for the way I want to curl into it. Even with me being as mad as I am, he still looks insanely hot, his sleepy eyes tracing over my figure in my pajamas. He knows I love when he wears that stupid fucking black hoodie. 
I push his hand off of me, scooting a little further away and wrapping my arms around myself.
“You’re such a dick, you know that?” I ask. 
He smirks, throwing an arm around the back of the couch before shrugging. “You love it.”
“No, I fucking don’t,” I growl, watching as he takes another hit. “And open a window or something, Jesus.” He knows how much I hate it when he smokes in my apartment. The smell lingers for a few days and all it does is remind me of him, of how much I can’t stand myself when he leaves after letting him in, again and again.
He leans forward, placing his hand on my thigh and rubbing it softly before blowing the smoke directly in my face. I stare at him, unimpressed, and he chuckles. “Come on, ma. Don’t be upset. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Do you really expect me to forgive you for being an asshole just because you’re here now? At 2 in the fucking morning?” I glare at him. Goosebumps emerge on my thigh as his fingers continue to rub small circles into it, and I shiver.
His lips curl upwards as he takes another hit. “Your body sure seems to,” he says cockily, putting out the preroll and wrapping his arms around my waist. My body does betray me this time, and I lean into him as his fingers trace my hipbone. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you tonight,” he whispers lowly.
“Yeah, I’m sure I was the first thing on your mind when you were balls deep in another girl,” I huff. 
He laughs. “Okay, she was first. But you were second.” His hand comes up to my jaw, cupping it softly and forcing me to look at him. “Stop acting like you hate me. We both know how this night is going to end,” he says, leaning in and capturing my lips with his own.
I whine as I try to pull back, but his hand on my jaw stays firm, holding my mouth against his. His other hand slowly slides up my thigh until he finds the waistband of my thong, and his finger hooks underneath before letting it go, resulting in it slapping harshly against my hip. I yelp and pull back, and he chuckles as his fingers rub the red mark softly.
“God, you know how hard it gets me when your cheeks are all flushed like that,” he mumbles, dipping his head down and beginning to suck on the skin directly above my collar bone. I let a small moan slip, and grit my teeth at how little willpower I have when it comes to this man.
“Chris, stop,” I whisper, but it sounds too breathy for my own liking. He pulls off of my neck, admiring the mark his teeth made briefly, before looking back into my eyes.
“You don’t mean that,” he says, grabbing my hips to pull me onto his waist. My thighs rest on either side of his and he grinds up into me, his hard erection rubbing against me through my paper-thin pajama shorts. I groan, letting my head fall onto his shoulder, and his fingers dig in, grinding me against him roughly. A small whimper leaves my mouth, slicing through the silence in the room. I wince, stilling my hips, trying to regain the last semblance of composure I have. 
My heart squeezes in my chest as I look down at him beneath me, my brain flooding with every toxic memory of us together. The time he kicked me out of his car, leaving me stranded on the side of the road after an intense screaming match. The time he called me a fucking bitch in front of his friends, laughing in my face. The time he swore he didn’t go and fuck that girl I hated in my biology class, promising he wouldn’t do that to me. 
That one hurt the most, considering I had to find out from my own sister 2 grades below me. 
But with the bad came the good, such as the mind-blowing orgasms and the way his mouth fit against mine and the way his fingers fit into me just right, crooking and teasing and pumping exactly the way he knew I liked. Like he knew my body better than I did. 
With my jaw set, I place my hands on his chest, steam practically blowing from my nostrils. I hated myself for this, and he knew that, and I knew he knew that. Any attempts I have at stopping this now are futile. My body needs him. 
“Fuck you,” I breathe heavily, rolling my hips against his. My mouth trails to his jaw, his neck, down his chest, and a low moan escapes him as his fingers find their way to the waistband of my shorts, slipping down the front and past my thong to gently rub at my entrance, before plunging two fingers deep inside without any warning. My hips jolt forward, meeting his fingers where they connect to his hand before he starts curling them inward, and… my last shred of self control has completely dissipated. 
I feel his chest rumble with laughter as a few small moans leave my lips. “If you insist,” he whispers, thumb finding my clit and giving it a few lazy circles. My head falls forward onto his chest and I can’t stop myself from biting into his shoulder to quiet my moans.
His other hand tangles its way into my hair, yanking my head back and forcing our gazes to lock.
“You can cum if you want to, but you know I’m getting inside that cunt one way or another.” His thumb speeds up across my clit and I can feel my body shaking, getting close to plummeting over the edge.
My eyes flutter shut, and I’m quickly rewarded with another sharp tug on my scalp. “Look at me,” he commands. And when my eyes meet his, I feel the waves washing over me, convulsing as he speeds up his fingers, mercilessly working me through my orgasm. 
I slump forward into his chest, and he pulls his fingers out quickly, leaving me empty in more ways than one. He wraps his arms around my waist and stands up, carrying me to my bedroom and tossing me onto the bed carelessly.
He pulls his hoodie over his head, tossing it into the corner of my room, and strides back over to the edge of the bed. His stature towers over me, and my mind is swimming with a thousand thoughts, not a single one of them protesting this any longer.
I’ve accepted what this is.
More than that, I’ve given up.
I’m irrevocably in love with him, regardless of his feelings toward me, and I can’t bring myself to care about the hurt it’ll bring. The hurt it has brought. All I can think about in this moment is getting him inside of me, and I try to disregard the niggling feelings in the back of my mind about how I’ll feel after.
There is no after. There’s only now.
My hand shakes slightly with anticipation as I reach up, tugging at his belt buckle and popping it open. I slide his pants and boxers down in one motion, and my legs spread on their own accord as he leans over me, lining himself up.
“I love you.”
It’s nothing I haven’t said before, but each time I do, I hope for a different outcome. Something other than the eye roll he always gives me, huffing and silencing me with a palm over my lips. Each time, I hope the sting is lessened, that he cracks and shows me the soft side of him I know has to be in there.
And if that’s the definition of insanity, then I should’ve been locked up months ago.
He scoffs, pushing inside of me to the hilt in one quick thrust. “I know,” he responds, hand coming up to wrap around my throat and prevent any further confessions from coming out. 
My moans are unstoppable as he pounds into me with brutal thrust after thrust, only caring about working towards his own orgasm. I thrust back against him, rolling my hips to meet his each time he’s fully inside, thinking that maybe… maybe if I’m good, maybe if I’m better than that other bitch he fucked tonight, he won’t run off like he always does.
Maybe he’ll want a round two. Maybe he’ll stick around for another joint. Maybe he’ll cuddle me after.
Maybe he’ll stay.
I push the thoughts aside, trying instead to focus on the intense amount of pleasure coursing through my veins and lighting up every nerve ending in my body. 
His chain rocks back and forth, slapping his chest in time with his thrusts, and I watch as his tongue darts out to lick away a stray bead of sweat trailing down his face.
His grunts are filling the room, mixing with my own to create a beautiful melody I want to record and play on a loop forever. His curls are falling in his eyes and his stomach tenses with each snap forward of his hips, and he consumes all of my senses as my body shakes and writhes beneath him, pleading for him to slow down and begging for more in the same breath.
I whine when he pulls out to just the tip, and his eyes stay glued to mine as he slams back in, causing me to let out a loud gasp. A smirk settles on his lips as he repeats his actions, and I feel my body coming completely undone, succumbing wholly to him.
“Such a good little slut for Daddy, aren’t you?” he muses, panting heavily. He releases his hold on my throat, gripping the back of my calf instead and wrapping it around his waist, moaning at the pleasure the new angle brings. “So needy and wet every time. Like you were made for me.”
And I was. There is no one else.
It’s just him.
I can feel his thrusts getting sloppier, and I watch his eyelids droop as he continues his conquest over me, every muscle tensing before I feel his release inside of me, hot and heavy, marking me as his. Claiming me.
He groans loudly as he works his way through it, not sparing a single drop. I wrap my other leg around him and pull him as close as I can, not wanting to to let him go and be forced to accept it’s over.
When he’s finished, he drops down onto me for a moment, and I take my opportunity to brush my fingers through his hair, placing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. We lay like that for a while, but it’s far too short for my liking when he peels himself away and stands up.
My eyes follow as he goes over to where he threw his hoodie, pulling it back over his head before grabbing his boxers and doing the same.
All I can do is watch helplessly, begging with my eyes for him to stay. To get back into bed and hold me, kiss my shoulder and whisper that it’s always been me too.
He chuckles as he buckles his belt, situating it on his hips before looking back at me. “That was probably one of our best ones yet.”
“Yeah,” I respond emptily. I sit up and wrap the blanket around myself, feeling far too exposed now, both physically and emotionally.
“Alright, ma. See you later,” he says, messing with his hair absentmindedly before deciding its okay, and I watch as he grips the handle of my bedroom door, swinging it open.
“Chris?” I ask.
“Hmm?”
“Stay.”
He looks taken aback for a moment, but regains his composure quickly as he chuckles and rolls his eyes. “I’m good.”
And with that, he’s gone, and I feel my heart shatter a little bit more as I’m left alone, sticky and sweaty and naked, with nothing but the smell of weed lingering in my apartment to keep me company.
——————————
PT 2
255 notes · View notes
cringequeenwrites · 3 months
Note
hi <3 id like to request larry johnson smut. i have this idea of just like laying around being lazy with him, talking about his art, music, maybe even smoking a little. as he’s comfortably rambling with you, he keeps trailing off getting distracted by looking at you. he starts grabbing at your thighs (super obsessed with them) and listing off phrases of adoration about you. just overall super lovey, entranced by you, almost can’t help himself but just being all over you. just some guilty pleasure lazy lovey smut plss 😭😭
Sorry for taking so long I was in art block for a hot minute, long intro,fluff,love making smut >>
•oO* •oO* •oO* •oO* •oO* •oO* •oO* •oO*•oO*•o
The Artist’s muse
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Art credit: @deordah on instagram
You woke up begrudgingly to the buzz on your phone. The rectangular light emitted shadowed your bewildered, but sleepy features as you grasp your phone with your eyes still closed. Once you could lift the weight of your eyelids you could just see a text from your boyfriend.
‘Come to my room, I need your help.’
You muster a groan before slugging off the bed before putting on some more appropriate pjs to where before sliding on some fluffy slippers and exiting your apartment to trudge into his. Times like this you feel grateful that you live in the same complex as your lover.
The elevator shuddered and reeked of cigarettes and mildew finally stopped and you exited. Softly opening is shared apt door to not wake his mom up with the spare key she gave you a couple months back. In her words Larry made too much noise trying to sneak you in himself than you actually coming normally.
You lock the door behind you and shuffle to his bedroom. The deafening silence of your slippers and his music looming vibrations into the thin wall made you feel almost invisible like a ghost. The familiar smell of burning marijuana and incense filled your nose.
You open his door and slide in to close it behind you. He hadn’t notice your presence yet. You spotted his figure behind a canvas atop of his big easily that also blocked the door way. Most likely the cause of him not noticing you come in. His vinyl player playing a more low and somber tone in contrast of the typical metallic death metal.
You scooted to the side, he still doesn’t notice you. But now you see he’s hyper-focused and high painting something. You see the shapes and color of a figure but you can’t tell what it is yet. You see him put down his paint brush with his brows furrowed as he takes another hit from his blunt, reaching for his phone.
‘Hurry up’
‘I’m right next to you dumby.’
You waited for text to deliver, to ping his phone, and to fully read your one sentence before lifting his head up like a barn owl. You see him jump in his stool and almost fall back. “Jesus fuck, sals a bad influence on you, you know that?” You chuckle at his response and move closer, hugging his tall frame as an apology. “What did you need help with larva.” Larva was the nick name you gave him because you grimaced every time you used larr-bear. Larva being way cuter you argued. You boyfriend who had mixed feelings about being compared to a worm, got back to what he wanted to say.
“I need you to pose for me, I wanna paint ya.”
You paused and looked at him, looking in his features to decipher if he was messing with you or not. His eyes stared back at yours with honesty and the white of his eyes a more pink from weed.
He then wrapped his arms around you to pick you up. You wide eyed and flattered at first, now flustered and in the air. “How bout,no..actually hold on.” He muttered before he flopped you on the bed with heist as he rearranges the position of his easel. You were torn with emotion. Flattered that your boyfriend wanted to paint you, but tired because it’s almost two and half in the morning.
You steal the neglected blunt off his nightstand as he fumbled with his pants. Still lit and burning you inhale while just accepting what’s happing. Still half asleep as you stare off into space. “You’re so pretty you know that?” His voice dipping an octave with his brush against the canvas. “I’m tired.” You almost whispered, even talking normally felt like too much work right now. “I mean it, you’re so fucking beautiful.” You say nothing unintentionally,zoned out from sleep deprivation and the slow high as you inhaled the blunt with your lips touching the rolled up paper.
You’re unsure how much time has passed. Your mind brought back to Larry when you no longer hear the brush strokes and music from the player suddenly click off. You observe him turn of the lights, but still seeing his silhouette shuffle toward you. Climbing in the bed quietly, the light of your blunt being the only light emitting from the room.
He sits closer to you,not saying a word, but you can tell what he is doing. You give him the blunt, he cranes his head. you cup his cheek with your free hand and place the joint to his lips with your other hand. You two shared the dwindling blunt until it was just bits of burnt paper. Breathing smoke from his mouth into yours, feeling as if you’re sucking his soul.
“I love you.” He said. His head coming to rest on your shoulder as you put your hands around his neck. “I love you too, don’t ever wake me up this late again.” You hear his sudden chuckle, feeling his dopey smile on your skin. “I’m sorry, just miss you.” He continued. Pulling down your pj pants with your underwear. “You see me everyday.” You entertained him as you pulled his shirt off. “I know.” He huffed. Taking off your shirt he gave you years ago.
“I just want you here, I want your heart.. Your attention, I wanted to hear your voice. I don’t know how to put it. I even miss the smell of your clothes.”
He uttered through whispers. Shuffling his pants off to kick them away. Kissing the shell of your ear down to your neck. Hands on your waist as his legs intertwined with yours.
“I need you.”
He grabbed the lube from that laid on the covers from a couple nights before. Pouring a generous amount on his shaft. You lock his waist between you with your legs. He rubbed his cock between your folds,heat already emitting from the both of you. The squelching sound made by your mixture of slick and lube coating your lips as his tip plays with your sensitive clit. You let out a shuddered whimper from the teasing, earning a chuckle from the man above you. He then inserted the head in, pausing to give you time to adjust before sinking his length in. His thickness was something you never got used to, no matter how many times you two were together. He bottomed out with a huff. Pausing again to give you time to adjust. You ran your hands through his hair to signal him to go. He slowly thrusted but thoroughly pressed into your core when he made contact. Now spouting endless praise and encouragement to you. “You so fucking hot, fuck, your pussy is so good I could fuck you forever. Your noises are so fucking cute too. I love you so much baby you don’t even know.” He sped up to where you could hear the plaps and squelching of your skin together. Inching closer and closer before you were about to climax. “Larry I’m close-“ you could only warn too soon before you felt your legs spasm and shake as you gush around his cock. Hiding your face in the crook of his neck as he chased his high, thrust coming to a sloppy rhythm as he pumped his cum I side you, filling your pussy until it was spilling out as he pulled out.
“We can clean up tomorrow morning.” He exhaled, still lying on top of you as he drew the blanket covers over the two of you. “I love you.” You whispered with soft huffs. “Love you too.” He said, falling asleep with your arms around him.
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skullsuited · 8 months
Text
hawaiian party.
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inspired by this song.
gif credit.
an fbh!era/college!au imagine full of angst, humor, smoking weed, hiding in a bathroom at a party & grief.
content warning: marijuana usage, mentions of disordered eating, feelings of loneliness & dealing with a parent’s death.
This was the first time you'd been out since your mother's death. Unwillingly so, and yet, here you were, hiding in your best friend's bathroom at a college party. How depressing of you.
Nadia, your best friend and Alpha Theta's starry-eyed sorority member, had practically pleaded on the phone with you to come out and 'let loose', because 'your mom wouldn't want you to rot in your dorm room, eating M&M's and watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy'.
You hated that she had a point. You hated that this was what your life had come to.
Nadia had also mentioned that a few of your other friends would be attending the party and they had, apparently, mentioned how much they 'missed you' and 'wanted to see you'.
How could you say no to them? If you turned them down, you would be stuck in the same bottomless pit of loneliness, grief and M&M's.
For Nadia, for your friends and for your mother's memory, you had decided to attend the party at her sorority. Many of the people there, you didn't know or really bothered to speak to. As you arrived, you noticed a few of your friends lingering around. Niall was talking to Michael and Luke, Liam and Calum were playing spin the bottle with a few strangers, Nadia was nowhere to be seen and Harry was up against a wall, a joint in between his fingers.
He had been the first one to make eye contact with you, to notice your presence. A smile pulled at his lips and before you knew it, he was chasing you upstairs to the bathroom, racing after you as you tried to ditch the scene.
Which is where you are now: in the bathroom, sitting against the tub with Harry sat next to you.
"You've been away." He breaks through the silence between you, taking a drag from the joint he'd been puffing at.
"Yeah." You reply quietly, eyes cast downward, tracing over the tile.
"How, um... how have you been..." He trails off, trying to find the right words.
"Coping?"
Harry looks at you now, emerald eyes overcome with worry and concern for your wellbeing.
"Not very well. I haven't really... haven't really eaten properly. I mean, you know my relationship with food is..."
"A rollercoaster. Been that way for a very long time. I know."
You sigh, unsure of what to say. Of course, Harry knew. Other than Nadia, he was your closest friend. You'd met in high school and were inseparable ever since. Your fingers twitch towards the joint he's holding, and he hands it to you, watching you take a drag from it.
"Your mum was a good person, Y/N. I know she fucked up a lot of things, but one thing she was truthful about was how much she loved you."
"Y'know, what the really fucked up part of that is?"
"What?"
"I don't believe she truly loved me. I mean, after everything she put me through, how can you call that love?"
"Everyone has their own version of love, Y/N. Whether we understand it or not, is completely up to us."
A half-hearted smile tugs at the right corner of your lips. Harry's very emotionally intelligent and opening up to him, even if it's surface level, is helpful.
As you hand him the joint, a question brews in your mind, "What do you think? About love, I mean."
Harry chuckles, taking the joint from you. "I'd like to think that love is a word for a feeling no one can truly describe. I don't believe it's conditional or should be tied down to a person, place or thing. Love, like any other feeling, should be felt freely. Love is part of the human experience."
"Okay, Professor." You grin, "Maybe you should be studying psychology, become a therapist."
"Mm," He hums, "What have you been up to? Besides hibernating."
"I'm watching Grey's Anatomy again."
"Again? Christ, this is the third time!"
"I'm almost done with Season 11, believe it or not."
"Jesus. Do you not get bored of looking at Jesse Williams?"
"Never."
"Is that all you've been doing?"
"What, is wasting away in my bed, anticipating the next time Dr. Jackson Avery is on my screen, not a healthy way to cope with the fact that my mother's dead?"
"You're passively grieving, Y/N. Hell, I don't even think you've allowed yourself to fully process."
"These things take time, H. I can't just piece myself back together."
"S' not what I'm getting at, love. I think you're pushing your grief to the side."
"Harry..."
"If you need a reminder that you can come to someone, that you're allowed to shoulder the burden with someone else, I'm happy to give you one. You can't go through this alone, no matter how hard you try."
"You know just what to say, don't you?"
"Maybe I should become a therapist. M' quite good at it."
"Well, in that case, should I open up now or let you get your PhD first?"
"Don't bother. Dr. Styles is in."
"In all seriousness? Thank you, H... for letting me just... be."
"Don't have to thank me, love. M' always here. Now, why don't we get out of here, smoke a bowl in my car and get you a cheeseburger?"
"Sounds good to me, Styles."
Harry stands, the joint he'd been holding in between his fingers had burnt out. He tosses it in the trash bin near the toilet, before holding his hand out for you to take. You smile up at him, taking ahold of it.
Exiting the bathroom, you both weave through the party and head out into the night.
If there's anything your mom would have wanted for you, it was to have someone like Harry. Harry was supportive, thoughtful. He knew you better than you knew yourself and, at times, you were grateful for that.
With death, comes life. With life, comes love.
Perhaps, Harry would open your eyes to that.
You had hope that he would. That he will.
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fadedncity · 1 year
Text
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wc: 1.8k (teaser)
pairing: mark x fem!reader
cw: street racing au, childhood friends to lovers, mentions of other idols; (full fic) tags: smut, lil angst, alcohol consumption, use of marijuana, teasing, fingering, semi public sex, marking, oral sex (giving/receiving), dirty talk, pet names, praising, multiple orgasms, more to come…
a/n: everyone thank ay-yo mark for finally getting me out of my writers block 😁 p.s. i don’t know shit about cars and only have knowledge based off the fast and furious movies so apologies 😭
FULL FIC OUT NOW
[9:16 PM] FRIDAY
"Come on. The cops are gonna bust it before we even get there!" Summer stomped her heels like a whiny child.
"You know these things never start on time, we will be fine," you said, coming down the stairs.
"You could always go ahead of us and we'll meet you there," Nyla said, checking herself in the mirror, "Oh wait, you can't drive," she deadpanned.
"Only temporarily," Summer rolled her eyes.
"Only until your suspension is lifted," you reminded.
"One of you could let me borrow a car. It's only an issue if I get caught." Summer says matter of factly, like either of you would agree with her.
"That is the issue, sweetie, you did get caught." Nyla pats Summer's cheek.
Summer crossed her arms, again acting like a moody toddler.
"Let's go," you grabbed your keys off the table, "Thought you didn't wanna be late." You said to Summer, heading out the door.
With an annoyed huff, Summer gathered her things and followed you and Nyla out the door.
The three of you got into your car, the gentle purr of the engine coming to life once you put the key in the ignition, sending vibrations through the entire vehicle. Music filtered through the speakers as you pulled out of your spot and took off down the street.
"Hyuck said to make sure you turn your lights off when you're coming up," Summer relayed a message she received from Haechan once you were halfway there.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," you waved off.
You turned off your headlights once you neared the exit, moving offroad. You carefully drove into the woods on unpaved ground, heading deeper into the darkness as the distant streetlights weren't doing anything to assist your sight anymore. 
"I always hate this part," Nyla says from the passenger seat.
"Gotta make sure we don't get caught if any cops are hiding around here." You said.
"I know, but it always feels like the beginning of a horror movie. And you know the hot ones always die first," Nyla pouted.
You found the opening in the fence, worn down from being driven over so many times, and pulled into the abandoned army base, finally able to cut your lights back on.
The sound of music playing and tires screeching on the pavement could already be heard from the runway the meet was on, and you were still a few hangars away.
You slow down once you reach the crowd taking over the runway. People move out of the way as you cruise down the road, looking for a spot to park.
"Ain't that Johnny over there," Summer pointed from the backseat.
"I'd recognize that giant beanstalk anywhere," you say before honking your horn, startling the Aquarius and getting his attention.
"Wow, the princess, actually graces us with her presence on this lovely night," Johnny curtsies, and you scoff.
"Just move out the way before I run your ass over." you tell him.
You backed your car into the spot next to Johnny, and your friends practically jumped out of the vehicle before you could put it in park. You hadn't even closed your door when Johnny embraced you in a tight hug. 
"Jesus, John, gonna crack a rib," you gasp.
"Feels like we don't see you at these things anymore," He let you go.
"Come on, it hasn't been that long. I was here a few weeks ago."
"For like 20 minutes. You left before you could even see me smoke Jungwoo," he crossed his arms over his chest.
You remember that night. You had totally forgotten the assignment you had due at 11:59 and raced back home to turn it in on time.
"Shit. That's my bad. You know it's just stuff with the garage and school and…stuff," you trail off.
"Yeah, I get it," Johnny slung his arm around you, "You're doing good though, kiddo," you both started trailing behind Nyla and Summer.
"How do you figure?"
"Made it further than me. I had already dropped out by this point," Johnny said, sharing a laugh.
The music came from every direction with people displaying their boosted sound systems out of their trunks. The ones not focusing on the races were too busy gawking at the expensive modifications under the hoods of those showing them off.
"Last chance. Winner take all," you instantly recognize Chenle's voice over the rest of the clamor.
You watch Summer reach into her bag, giving Chenle an indescribable amount, looking proud of herself.
"Who're you betting on?" Johnny asks her. 
"Yeri, duh," she answered. 
"You sure that was a good choice?" he asks, teasingly.
"Obviously. Hyuck ain't got shit on her." 
"Yeah, alright," Johnny rolled his eyes, taking a bit of offense himself.
"Where is Haechan, by the way? He's up next," Jeno asks.
"Over there talking to Jaemin," Chenle nodded to the opposite side of the runway where Jaemin's car was parked.
You spotted the back of Haechan's head speaking to Jaemin through the window of his car, probably checking the police scanner and making sure you're all still in the clear, no doubt. Then your eyes land on the guy standing next to him, recognizing his silhouette.
"Oh my god, is that-" Summer starts.
"Mark Lee?" you will your vision to focus from this distance to see clearer. "Mark's back in town and no one said anything?" you hit Johnny's arm.
"You would know if you were here." Chenle shrugged.
"I'm sorry, who is Mark?" Nyla asks.
Everyone turned and looked at Nyla.
"Mark Lee? How do you not know Mark?" Summer says, showing Nyla his Instagram.
"How did you pull that up so fast?" Renjun asks.
"Holy shit, he's good," Nyla says impressed, and you already know Summer pulled up one of the videos of him racing.
"Better be. I taught him." Johnny smiles like a proud father. "We all go way back," he says, "Ain't that right?" Johnny nudges your arm.
Way back. 
Way back when you used to spend hours at the garage with your father after school and only knew Johnny as your father's best and favorite (unconfirmed) employee. And Mark was some boy from your high school that you didn't even know until you went to your first car meet.
Way back doesn't even feel that far away anymore now seeing him. It almost feels exactly like the first car meet you snuck out to. When you first met him.
"If your father knew you were here, he would lose his shit. If he found out I let you drive he would have my head. You are not getting into any car—getting behind any wheel tonight under any circumstances. Do you understand?" Johnny said. 
"But-" 
"Aht, I mean it," he said, shooting you down before changing the subject, "You know Mark, right?" he asked. 
"No, I don't know Mark." 
"Well, this is Mark," Johnny said, yanking the boy out of a conversation to introduce the both of you. "You mind keeping each other company, and make sure she stays out of..everything," Johnny not so quietly muttered to Mark. "I'm up next, so be good while I'm gone," Johnny patted your head before he hopped in his car, leaving the two of you alone. 
"I can't image he's much less of a jackass at work." Mark said. 
"He definitely isn't. I don't think it's something he can turn off," you laughed before you looked over at him, "How'd you know I'm from the garage?" you asked. 
"Johnny said you might be here tonight. He talks about you all the time, like a little sister he's never had," Mark tells you. 
"Oh really? What else has he said?" 
"You're one hell of a driver."
"Come on, it's starting," Summer pulling on your arm, tore you out of your thoughts, and you realize Mark's no longer in your sight, having lost him in the crowd.
People gather on either side of the runway, cheering as Haechan's electric blue Supra pulled up next to Yeri's lavender-wrapped GT-R, stopping right before the spray-paint on the pavement that served as the starting and finish line.
Chenle stood between both cars, looking at Haechan and Yeri. He raised his arms, both drivers reviving up their cars, Haechan burning out his tires, kicking up smoke behind his car before Chenle dropped his arms, and they both sped off past him down the road.
Through all the commotion, you spotted Mark again. And before you could even think about it you were already weaving your way through the crowd to get to him.
"So you thought you could just come back to town and not say anything to anybody?" you say, getting his attention.
Mark's eyes light up, no longer concerned with the race upon seeing you.
"I just got in yesterday but heard you were gonna be here tonight. So I thought I'd surprise you."
"Consider me surprised."
You take the time to notice everything about him, the things that have changed and the things that haven't. Like his hair, no longer dark with the typical schoolboy cut. It's now grown out and blonde—that was as much as you could tell from the beanie it was all tucked underneath. But nothing about his face is much different than how you remember it. Still the same soft eyes you can get yourself lost in and the sweet smile that used to bring one to your face.
"So who's your money on?" Mark asks you.
"You know I'm not throwing anything unless I really got something to lose," you say, "But if I did put my money on one of them, it would definitely be Yeri. She's winning this."
"Yeah, she's a good driver but don't you know what Haechan has under his hood?"
"Yeah, but it's no match for what's under Yeri's. And I would know. I put it all together myself," you smiled proudly.
You heard the cars approaching, closing in on the finishing line. From this distance, it's hard to tell who's winning, but you aren't as eager as the rest of the crowd cheering on either side to see who would make it to the end first.
The cars blurred past you, wind whipping behind them, blowing your hair out of place a bit as you turned to Mark.
"Now would you look at that," you smiled as Yeri was announced as the winner, "I know it's been a while Mark, but the last thing you should forget is that I'm always right."
"Trust, there isn't anything about you I could forget," Mark says.
a/n: i’m currently already at 7k but just wanted to know how y’all feel about this so ik whether i should keep going or not so pls lmk! feedback is appreciated <33
edit: currently at 11k and still haven’t gotten to the smut yet…y’all pray for me
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