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rosesbxrry · 11 months

Text

Rendezvous

Pairing: Rugby Boyfriend! Jay X Cheerleader Fem! Reader

Genre: Smut🔞 (Minors DNI), secret relationship✌️

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it), Dom Jay, creampie, voyeurism (watching each other masturbate), so much mention of alcohol drinking, fingering, dirty talking, making out, riding, praising, mention of other sexual act done by them. Hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else.

Summary: Your secret relationship with Jay is torturous to say the least, no thanks to the strained relationship between the cheerleading and rugby teams. Now with tournament season coming up and Jay being busy with training, you and he meet up for a secret rendezvous at a frat party after not seeing each other for two weeks, taking advantage of the situation where you both don’t have to worry about the peering eyes of your teammates.

Main masterlist

Word count: 4,188 words

a/n: I don’t know how I ended up finishing this Jay fic first out of all the wips I have, and I still need to complete the nsfw links for him as well 🙃🙃 I guess rejoice to Jay stans, this one is for you 🫶🫶

You weren’t going to lie; the whole cheerleading thing was getting on your nerves, mainly because you could list all the drawbacks at the top of your head.

Firstly, you bet you could find longer skirts that covered your ass better than whatever you wore they called uniforms. Secondly, no matter how bad the weather was, you had to stay on the field as long as the players were still playing, even if your pom poms were soaking wet from the rain. Thirdly, the amount of spare time you had to sacrifice to train between classes and assignments made you contemplate whether everything was worth the time and energy.

How did you get into this position you may ask? Well, your friend Gaeul thought it was really funny to sign your name in the recruitment paper, dragging you along into her crusade of becoming the queen bee of the campus, even though she could very much have achieved that without you.

But the last drawback was the final nail to the coffin; it was embedded into the heads of all the new first-year students by the cheerleading captain that relationships with the rugby players were forbidden. Be sure to cooperate with that one rule and avoid getting kicked out of the team immediately.

Honestly, you weren’t sure how the feud between the rugby and cheerleading teams even happened in the first place. Your captain said that it goes way back, passing through alums, but you weren’t interested in history to remember the rest.

This drawback wouldn’t have affected you if only it weren't for Park Jongseong coming into the picture.

The secretive romance between you and him has been carefully built up behind the scenes, mostly because the amount of mutual friends you’ve shared with him ensues the moment you wake up naked in bed beside you after a very drunk party.

Dealing with overly chatty teammates every day did have its perks, and based on what you can recall, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the rugby players and cheerleaders to hook up with one another in silent compliance; whatever happens in bed, remains in bed. The players were informed of the same rule by their own captain about the rule which only further confirms the weird rivalry between the two teams.

Having that little reassurance, you were sure the one-night stand was a one-off thing, but it seemed Jay wasn’t ready to let go of you yet.

Months of his flirtatious advances led to the classified yet cliche friends-with-benefits relationship you had established with him. And sex with Park Jongseong was inhumanely insane, like out of this world fucking good that it hurts to even think of how his hips move in and out of you.

You could list all the places you’ve had sex with him; in a frat party, in an empty lecture hall— hell, you’ve even gone as far as fucking in the shower stall with him in the male’s locker room, only because you had waited for him when the players had an extended practice from the coach.

The cocky, rough sex in his car after his team won a match? That was just the cherry on top.

All because you two couldn’t find a meeting place without everyone else's peering eyes, making it harder to hook up.

At first, you were sure you had only entertained him because of the banging part but my god, the number of butterflies in your stomach every time he winked in your direction in the field, or when you were sick, he had discreetly visited your dorm through your window in the middle of the night to see if you were okay.

Falling in love wasn't on your agenda, and as much as you hate the cheerleading club, you weren’t looking for trouble, yet he was exactly one.

When the feelings were growing more than just sexual intimacy, the emotions took over. He kissed you passionately on the lips that it wasn't humanly possible for someone to show love through action alone, but this was Jay we’re talking about; he was able to make the impossible possible.

With that remark, you found yourself making love with him that night, and the boyfriend-girlfriend relationship between you two was kept under public scrutiny, even with your teammates and friends.

Or so you thought.

“I think I kinda know who Jay's mysterious girlfriend is.”

A chorus of hard coughing emitted from your throat when you choked on your drink, causing Gauel to look at you worryingly. The loud bass of the frat party almost swallowed her voice down.

“You okay, Y/N?”

You wave her off, closing your mouth to control the fits. “I’m— I’m fine. Who is it? I mean, who’s Jay’s girlfriend?” You nonchalantly ask, but the panic clawing in your chest starts to hurt.

She gave you a once-over before replying. “Yeonjin from the drama club. Apparently, she used to pin him for months now. The other cheerleaders kinda conspiracies that it might be her.”

Okay, you always hear gossip between your teammates, but why is this the first time you’ve heard it?

Yes, you both agreed it was a good charade to tell people— talking about your significant other like separate entities as if you weren’t dating each other. A reasonable excuse for many advances and open invitations that includes your friend’s antics.

However, you were starting to regret doing it because you have a feeling that your teammates aren’t the only people with a blabbermouth. If not, there wouldn’t be a hunt for Jay Park’s alleged girlfriend among the student body.

You sighed, moving deeper into the foyer to give way to the drunk students walking down the stairs. “We should stop snooping around like this. There’s a reason why he wants to keep his girlfriend a secret in the first place.”

You gave her a pointed look before continuing. “Such as from people like you.”

“Come on, Y/N!” Gaeul exasperated, leaning in to give you a lethal combo of puppy eyes and pouty lips that you know so well. “Aren’t you at least a teensy weensy curious about who she is?”

“No.” You deadpanned, using your index finger to poke at her forehead, successfully pushing her away from your personal space. “What I’m interested in is getting more alcohol so I won’t hear whatever nonsense you’re spouting next.”

Gauel frowned. “You suck.”

You snort, raising your red cup at her mockingly as you head towards the kitchen. It was a much less crowded area. You could spot slightly more sober students chatting away while mixing a concoction of mocktails to dare each other to chug. After pouring yourself a cup of soda to clear your head, you lean against the cabinet, deep in thought.

The sound of music and revelry blast through the kitchen when the door opens, followed by its absence when the person steps into the room.

You kept glancing at the new presence through your lashes. A sharp tanned jawline, slick back raven hair and clothes fitting him deliciously well that got you biting on your lower lip. When he looks around and catches your figure, his eyes glint in pleasure with a small smirk.

“Hey.” He greeted flirtatiously once he was close.

“I have a boyfriend.” You impassively respond against the cup's rim without sparing him a glance.

His chuckle was deep, almost tugging at your heartstrings. “Must be a stupid boyfriend for leaving his beautiful girlfriend alone.” He leaned against the cabinet adjacent to you, placing his red cup on the marbled surface.

“You have no idea,” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms around your chest. “He hasn’t taken me out on dates for weeks. Too preoccupied with the other love of his life.”

You baited back, accentuating the last few words to insinuate one particular sport he played. The grip on your cup tightens when he pushes himself off, moving close to tower over your height.

“Then what does he have to do to make it up to you?” He whispered curiously, peering down and boring his dark eyes with yours until you couldn’t break the trance he had on you.

When he places both hands on the surface behind you, caging you in only his addicting scent and his face so close that it becomes hard to breathe, you become overly conscious that the students in the room would notice the both of you.

The proximity of the sight would paint the whole picture perfectly.

“D-Don’t…..” You warned meekly, but your mouth went numb when he leaned so close that if he moved even an inch more, your lips would collide and erupt into flames from the dormant amber. The alcohol in your veins told you to kiss him, but your head was actively fighting to prevent that.

He raised an eyebrow. “Does he have to be on his knees?” Your eyes followed how he sensually wet his lower lip with his tongue. Your heart was beating against your ribcage at the sight, biting the inside of your cheeks.

He tilted his head to the side, his breath fanning the high points of your cheeks. “Looking up at you while his mouth works between those trembling legs?”

Shit, shit, shit—

“Jay, not here." You place a palm against his chest to retaliate, finding the strength to lower your face to the ground. "Please.” You added with a shaky voice, swallowing down the lump of saliva with your eyes closed.

There was a slight stillness and tension in the air before you heard the creaking noise of the cabinet above you.

“Relax, Y/N.” He reassures you softly. The weight of his proximity dissipates, and you finally breathe a breath of relief. He moves away to stand in front of you with a bottle of alcohol.

“Just getting something above you.” He winks and breaks into a grin when you give him an annoyed frown.

Of course, he’ll use every opportunity to tease the shit out of you, but the beating of your heart never ceases, even after his little farce riles you up. You were glad that the dimmed lights hid the flush on your cheeks.

“Asshole.” You muttered spitefully behind a hand.

He poured the liquid into his cup before filling up yours as well. He chose to ignore you cursing at him with a little smile.

“If you ever find yourself getting bored while waiting for your boyfriend tonight,” He says, slowly backing away while still facing you. “You’ll know where to find me.” He gave you a quick once over before trudging away into the party.

With him no longer here, you feel the emptiness you felt for the last two weeks without him sinking in.

You turned to the left and saw the group of students still preoccupied with their recreational stuff, the amount of alcohol making them more delirious and loud. Good, you thought before grabbing the drink to go and search for your friend— waiting for the time to pass until the whole party was intoxicated.

When the humidity of the place starts to smell like liquor and the students begin to lose themselves in the music in the dead of night, you carefully make your way up to the second floor. You’ve sneaked here many times before, knowing where each door leads.

You’ve made sure to control how much you drank but can’t help feeling tipsy with Gaeul constantly dragging you for shots of vodka. Opening the door to a familiar bedroom makes you feel more agitated and nervous.

Jay’s taste in decoration was the definition of suave; the room was polished and slick, much like its owner. You remember the first time he tangled you in his bed sheets or when you spent hours making out on his black leather sofa— the one he was sitting on right now.

“I take it that your boyfriend ditched you?” Jay calls out.

He sat casually spread on the seat with his jacket thrown over the channel back. The loose t-shirt he wore hung over his board body, and the same red cup in the kitchen was placed on the coffee table. Classic Jay— he was waiting for you to come to him.

“You should really stop with the act.” You replied, climbing to sit on his lap and straddling your legs on either side.

Jay’s face twists into content, welcoming you to him by circling his hands around your waist. “Makes me feel like I’m really cheating on you right now.” You pouted, letting your fingers trace his exposed neck to his visible collarbone.

His hands cup your face, bringing you down until your forehead touches. He smelled compulsively musky with a hint of pungent booze at the end.

“Sorry, love.” He whispered sweetly, but his eyes were filled with dark flickers. “I can’t help it when you look so damn cute when you’re flustered.” You wrap your hands around his neck.

“Fucking tease.” You whispered back. He smiled effortlessly.

“A tease only for you.”

You could feel the serotonin kicking the moment he captured your lips. He felt slightly warm, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. Your mouth dances with him in unison; the initial passion turns into obsession when the both of you realize how much you missed the taste of each other’s lips.

His hand creeps up past your shirt, groping the sensitive skin of your sides. It made you moan softly in his mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue into you. You dug deeper into his lap, fingers gripping the raven locks of his hair, feeling absolutely drunk in his arms.

The wet sound of saliva echoed throughout the room— two mouths continued to bite, suck, nibble and pant against one another. Your hips moved on their own, slowly rocking your clothed core on his bulge. The tight confinement of your bra came loose, falling to the floor before feeling his fingers pinching your hardened nipples.

It was getting hot, and you were breathless when he broke the wet kiss. He was staring at you with hooded eyes as he continued to grope your breast underneath your shirt.

“I fucking miss you so much.” He confessed, moving to attack your neck with wonton kisses. You hold him tighter by the hair, pulling your head back to give him more space. “You’re always on my mind. Your smile, your voice, your body. You’re driving me crazy every second, my love.”

You whimpered, feeling him growing harder as he professed his undying agony for the past two weeks. He moves down to place his hands on your ass, encouraging you to keep humping on his hard-on while he licks your lower jawline.

“Miss you too, baby.” You press your lips close to his ears, purposely moaning lewdly for only him to hear. “I’m always thinking about you, while I’m eating, while I’m in class, while I’m in my—“

You paused. “—while I’m in my bed at night.”

The sentence came out more sensually than you meant, causing Jay to pull away to look at you. He saw the bashfulness in your expression before he morphed into realization at the innuendo of your words.

“Did you touch yourself?”

When you didn’t answer him, he took that as confirmation. He inhales a sharp breath, and you can feel his fingers digging into your bare ass underneath your skirt, causing you to gasp and look at him. His jaw was slack, and his eyes were swimming with desire yet curious at the new revelation.

“Show me.”

It wasn’t a request but a demand— a demand you couldn't refuse when he looked at you like a starved man. So you move out of his lap, sitting on the coffee table while facing him, removing your shirt to let your boobs bounce out.

Fondling your breasts, you let out a whiny moan when you roll your puffy nipples with your thumb, the way you always do while you masturbate to the thought of him. It didn’t help that your mounds were already sore to the touch at his ministrations a second ago.

Jay was really enjoying the sight, removing his shirt while keeping his eyes on you.

His body was carved like a Greek god— beautiful taunt muscles at every region with a sun-kissed glow; watching his biceps flex as he loosened his belt and pulled his pants down.

“I know you touch yourself more than that.” He urged from his seat, palming himself through his briefs. “Show me how you play with that pretty pussy for me.”

His voice was like a spell— coaxing you to remove your skirt and peel your soaked panties off. Placing your feet on the table’s surface, you spread your legs to expose every inch of your pussy for only his eyes to feast. You can’t help but whimper at how he was eye fucking your entirety.

Pushing two fingers into your mouth, you coat your fingers with saliva before slipping them between your thighs. You were drenched— every slip of your fingers between your folds spilled more juices that puddled on the crack of your ass.

“That’s it, fuckin’ beautiful.” His muttered praises only made you moan louder, peeking through heavy eyelids as you watched him jerk his big cock to the rhythm of your fingers while the other rested at the back of his head.

You open your legs wider, pushing two fingers into your entrance, absolutely enamoured by the feeling of him watching you finger yourself that’s making your body burn into a pile of ashes. It was not easy on him either— watching you pleasure yourself got him lightheaded and head oozing with precum.

“Is that how you fuck that pretty pussy with your fingers, hmm? Stretching that perfect hole wide like how I would with my cock?”

“Jongseong.” You crooned desperately, falling to rest your back on the table. Your thumb found its place on your clit, rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves until your hips were bucking the air, inwardly screaming at the blinding pleasure.

“Fuck.” He cooed, wincing as he thumbed his sensitive head. “Look at you playing with your clit. So fucking sexy. That’s how you always feel, baby, so soft and sensitive on my fingers.”

Jay’s filthy words spurred you on, plunging your fingers until they reached the spongy spot deep within, your back arching at the pleasure of the simple movement. But it wasn’t enough; the knot in your stomach would not come undone— the only thing that could quell your thirst was him.

You craved his cock, needing it to split you open until you forgot your name.

“Jay, it's not enough.” You begged, sitting up with every strength you had. “I need you inside of me, please.”

He sensed your hunger, your anguish— your desperation, and didn’t spare a second to open his arms to you.

“Come here.”

You immediately jump to straddle his lap, trembling hands holding onto his shoulders for leverage as you grip the base of his cock to align it with your entrance. Jay hissed at your touch, hands found purchase on your sides to support your weight.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Jay gently whispered, noticing how you impatiently tried to nudge the tip of his cock into your hole with frustration. “Slow down, love. I’m not going anywhere.” He cradles your cheek with both hands to pull you closer to his face, smiling softly once you look back at him.

“Relax and don’t hurt yourself, okay? I can wait for you forever like this.” He pushed back your hair to mouth kisses just under your ear, causing your muscle to ease up at his touch, dissipating some of the eagerness that clouded your sanity.

Taking a deep breath, you probe his tip to your hole and slowly sink his length with your eyes closed.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.”

The way he purred, those words caused you to claw at his shoulders, his girth burning your walls so deliciously that you can’t help but clench around it. He massage your ass, letting you bottom down until you sit on his lap.

“Ah god, Jongseong, you feel so amazing.” You gritted out, moaning rapturously at how full you felt with his cock, feeling the size and length of it moulding your womb.

“My good girl, taking my cock so perfectly.” He thrusts up, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers curled into his messy locks to steady yourself, bouncing back to the movement of his hips.

Fuck, the way his cock dragged against your velvet walls, pressing on the deepest spot that brought you solace repeatedly— you were practically melting in his arms.

Jay’s groans vibrate against your neck, feeling you clench and unclench around his length erratically. You were throbbing endlessly until all he could fathom was your scent and your sweet moans that consumed him with the desire to fuck you senseless.

“You’re mine.” He breathed out, lunging a hard thrust that got you screaming. He slaps your ass, digging his teeth at the base of your neck, loving how you clung to him like he was your deity. He rutted into you, cock never slipping out, not even an inch.

The sound of skin slapping overthrew the music coming from the party downstairs.

He growled. “All fucking mine.”

“A-ah, I’m all yours.” You swallowed, pressing your lips against his ear, lapping at the outer shell with want. “My mind, my body, my pussy— I belong only to you.”

You have awakened the carnal urge he had suppressed for so long, making him stir into a frenzy, bringing you up and slamming you down on his cock so that all you could do was succumb to your orgasm.

You could feel the knot in your tummy come undone, bathing you in the familiar warmth you longed for. Jay kissed your lips deeply, grinding a few more times before he too came with a heavy grunt, filling you up raw with ropes of hot cum.

You were blinded with pleasure, your vision slowly giving out, and all you could feel was the force of each other’s release.

At that moment, you prayed to whoever above to promise you that heaven would feel as good as this.

Once the air starts to clear up and Jay finished riding you out of your orgasm, he pulls his cock out of your spent pussy, his release dripping down your inner thigh while you lay limp in his arm. You could hear the heavy panting from both sides; exhaustion finally computed in your mind.

He started to make motions to move you into a more comfortable position to clean you up. Your heart swelled with butterflies, reminding yourself why you had fallen for him in the first place.

You wrap your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his. “Later,” You persuade softly, inevitably stopping him from moving. “I want you to hold me closely.”

“Okay.” He sighed, staring deep into your eyes.

It was lethal to your heart— how you could see the entire galaxy shining in the specks of his gaze. He smooths your back with the palms of his hands, lovingly pecking at the corner of your mouth.

Your bodies fit into the compact confinements of the sofa, legs stretched out to tangle with each other. The side of your face rested on his arms, hugging him close until your bare skin touched. His other arm was draped around your waist, softly tracing the skin at the bottom of your spine.

You're not sure how long you were staring at each other before he opened his mouth to mutter something in the embrace.

“You’re beautiful.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “You’re more beautiful.”

He burst into a laugh, eyes forming breathtaking crescent shapes, the afterglow of sex making him glimmer like the sun. The laughter soon quiets down, the soft sound of the bass downstairs filling the room.

He looks at you once more, but the frown on his face catches you off guard.

“I’m sorry I can’t spend more time with you.” He said. You recognize the guilt in his voice, pulling him closer to your body. “Just that the pressure from the coach and with all the other members being on edge with the final tournament…..”

You kiss his chest, feeling him sigh with relish at your lips on his skin. “It’s fine Jay, the last thing I want you to worry about is me. Focus on playing your best, and I’ll be there cheering once you win.”

He pushes back a strand of hair behind your ear, chuckling at your words of confidence.

“I promised to make it up to you.” His ardent oath caused you to snuggle into his chest, feeling him reciprocate your hug by placing his chin on the crown of your head.

You mumbled close to his beating heart.

“Don't worry, I can wait for you forever like this.”

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catboyieejeno · 1 year

Note

your lazy morning drabble w donghyuck was super cute 🥹 could i request a slight angst/fluffy drabble with how jaehyun would spoil his partner when he realizes they are going through a hard time? thank you 🤍🤍

comfort; jung jaehyun

pairings: bf! jaehyun x gn! reader (mentions of reader having hair tied back, but no pronouns)

contents: cursing, established relationship, slight angst, jaehyun cheers reader up, ending is all fluff :,(

Your boyfriend prided himself in learning and knowing everything about you; he knew you better than anyone, and even you couldn’t deny that.

Jaehyun had memorized your endearing quirks and habits, learned to appease your unique sense of humor, mentally noted your list of pet peeves, watched warily for signs of your stressors. He knew these things about you practically better than he knew himself. He was observant, patient, a good listener. All of the qualities that made you so very sure that you were in love with him, and he with you, because who else would make the time and effort to know you so well, if they weren’t.

A few months into the relationship, Jaehyun noticed the slight mood changes you would go through, where for a month or so, you would feel fine, happy, whole. Then, out of nowhere and entirely unannounced, a wave of stress would hit you. You had a sensitive soul, one prone to be affected by the external factors that were out of your control, and when too many things went wrong all at once, you would break down.

His heart ached every time he realized that he couldn’t always make it better, but nonetheless, he never stopped trying.

Today was one of those days. Your really, really shitty days.

Earlier in the week, you and one of your long term friends had a fight and stopped talking. A mere two hours later, you got stuck in the middle of a rainstorm waiting for the train home. The rain caused you to get sick with migraines, nausea, and fever galore, which you had to endure every day of class for the remainder of the week. Your sleep schedule was suffering, since you were in a constant battle with your illness which wore you down. The medication you needed barely aided your symptoms, only serving to make you drowsy, and the countless stacks of notes you needed to study for today’s midterm were relentlessly packed with information. A midterm worth a considerable, significant amount of your grade, which you failed with a 47%.

The front door slammed behind you, bag crashing to the floor as you stepped inside your apartment. You kicked your shoes off to the side, disregarding where they may have landed, keys flying onto the couch. With your lip caught between your teeth, which you were convinced was the only thing keeping you from crying out of pure frustration, you shuffled down the hall and straight into your bedroom.

As you stepped inside, Jaehyun’s head snapped up, eyes momentarily lighting up at the sight of you until he took note of your expression.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he cooed, arms pushing himself off the mattress. He hurried over to you, ready to pull you into his arms, but your outstretched hand halted him and kept him at a distance.

With the most docile tone you could muster, you muttered out a single phrase, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Jaehyun gave you a curt nod and watched, frozen in his spot, as you stormed around the room, grabbing the clothes you would wear after your shower. His eyes followed you, seeing as you drop them on the corner of the bed. In one motion, you yanked the tie out of your hair and left it on your nightstand, fingers scratching at your scalp to soothe the soreness of having it tied back for so many hours.

Your gaze landed on the desk in the corner of the room, where all your study guides, notes, and cheat sheets laid sprawled out, mocking you. Maybe if you had studied harder, if you had stayed up later. Unable to look at them any longer, you ran over, piling each stack one on top of the other and slamming the papers face down against the wooden surface. You shut the textbook with a boom, and picked up the now useless notes you had made, crumbling them up within your fists, hoping you’d find some relief by crushing them into nothing.

It wasn’t until Jaehyun came up behind you, placing his hand ever so carefully on your shoulder and uttering a small “Babe?” that you noticed the hot, angry tears pooling at your eyes.

“What?” You snapped, turning around, “I’m not in the fucking mood, Jae. I already told you I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

His lips pursed, taking in your words. “Okay.” was all he managed to say.

You continued on your track without sparing him a second glance, grabbing your clothes and going straight into the bathroom.

You spun the shower handle to the highest degree and began to peel your clothes off your body, discarding them in the hamper. For the first few seconds that the hot water hit your skin, you felt relief, as if just for a moment, everything terrible that had happened this past week was not real, like it was not hurting you. You squeezed your eyes shut, basking in the blissful feeling, until your ears pick up the sound of your front door closing and your heart dropped.

Your hand flies to shut off the water, and you wait for a moment in silence, yearning, pleading with yourself that you had only imagined the click of the door.

Timidly, you call out, “Babe?”

There was no response.

“Jae?” Your second call is louder, although somehow weaker and tainted with guilt.

Jaehyun had stormed out, undoubtedly because of the way you spoke to him.

“Fuck,”

Finally, for the first time this week, your tears come spilling out as you switch the water back on. It muffled your sobs, but it no longer soothed the hurt in your chest.

You can’t remember how long you stood there, pouring out all your pent up emotions; you had no defined measure of time, but you were there long enough for the water to start going cold, leaving you no choice but to step out.

Your tears eventually stopped as you finished dressing yourself, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself in your blanket and go to sleep.

Truthfully, you wanted to be in your boyfriend’s arms, to feel held and loved by him as you rambled on about all the things that had upset you, knowing he would not only listen to you, but hear you.

The bathroom door opened and shut behind you, and as you turn to your bed, just about ready to collapse into it, your feet skid to a stop.

Sat on the edge of the bed was Jaehyun, a bouquet of the prettiest pink tulips in one hand, an iPad in the other. Organized on the bed was an assortment of your favorite snacks and comfort foods. You take a look around, mouth agape, as you notice the white sheet hung up on the wall opposite of the bed.

A projector illuminated the opening credits of your favorite movie, the one you had been begging him to watch with you for forever, onto the smooth surface. The room light had been dimmed, replaced by fairy lights that glowed a light shade of purple. The pillows and blankets had been propped up into the shape of a fort. Your nightstand was full of your favorite skin care masks and creams, along with a new and neatly folded silk pajama set and white slippers that matched the exact outfit Jaehyun was wearing.

“Are you insane-“

“I know you said you didn’t want to talk about what happened and I’m sorry for pushing it earlier, but I couldn’t just let you be-“ he cut you off, but you were quick to interrupt him, kneeling in front of him where he sat on the bed.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you, it was just misdirected anger and I know that’s not an excuse,” You rambled, bringing a hand up to cup his face, “Baby, you didn’t have to do all this,”

“I don’t care about earlier. You’ve been so upset all week, I couldn’t stand to see you like that anymore.” he explained. Jaehyun sets aside the two gifts in his hands, pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around you.

“I thought you stormed out,” you confessed, “I heard the door close and I thought-“

“I would never, love,” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips and gestured around, “I only went out to get all this,”

“I can see that,” you giggle, “You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

His fingers came up to brush your wet hair behind your ear and he kissed you again, moving his mouth smoothly against yours. The feeling of bliss returned, and you swore you could’ve melted right then and there in his arms. The comfort you felt in his hold was incomparable.

When you pulled away for a breath, you looked around once more, taking in the sight of the room and gifts.

“An iPad?” you raised a brow.

“I was tired of seeing you scribble in those notebooks every day.”

Your head tilts back in laughter as you hold him close, thanking him. He started going on about the matching PJ’s, urging you to put yours on so the two of you could match, and you sighed, just about ready to get off his lap and change. Admittedly, you were anticipating his reaction to the movie and the night ahead. Before you get up, however, you remind him of a simple fact.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

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lucyandthepen · 2 years

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gorgeous ii | lmh ( ft. ldh )

part i

ever since your shower tryst with mark, donghyuck has been feeling left out, and he’s been hinting at it. not so subtly. pretty damn explicitly, actually. after multiple failed attempts at reassuring him you’re all still a well-oiled machine of a team, you’re left with only one solution.

interestingly, it’s not an option anyone seems to be too averse to.

pairing: mark x reader x donghyuck rating: R genre: humor, smut warnings: once again sorta pwp, basically hints at a mild level of polyamory kind of idk man, a threesome?? is a threesome a warning idk, mild mommy!kink for reader, slightly more pronounced daddy!kink for mark, mild baby!kink for donghyuck, some kinda praise kink for pretty much everyone, anal/double penetration, super brief impregnation!kink that i wish i had done more of but felt like it would be overkill, cum…play sjdfgj,,, light choking nothing major, more dirty talk, just. Nastie stuff i guess. please be sure that you are 18+ to read! word count: 16.6k

author’s notes : i’m simply deeply impatient and needed to post this i apologize :^)

You really should have picked up all the signs a little sooner.

Donghyuck has never been good at acting, so he’s never been intensely successful at hiding his feelings; in fact, he’d once gotten a warning letter for looking so bored in class the teacher couldn’t overlook it any longer. In hindsight, it should have been obvious, given the way he’d been acting.

Then again, it was fairly easy to pass off his recent behavior as regular Donghyuck, only intensified. He had always liked hanging out with Mark, which meant he mostly enjoyed hanging around you, too. He’d once crashed in your room when Mark had been out for a weekend visit to Jeonju to see some distant relatives and Donghyuck had left his room key card in the electricity slot, much to the ire of your own roommate. He’d asked the both of you to come with him to the MMCA in Gangnam because he wanted someone to take proof photos of him (your job) and read the captions on the artworks before explaining them to him so he could write his reflection paper for his Art Studies class (Mark’s much more unfortunate job). And, of course, he’d bullied you and Mark into confessing your feelings for each other to each other, although you’ve grown to suspect, almost to the point of confirmation, that he had done it not so much in the spirit of support for young love but more in response to his own intense desire to cut down on the immense awkwardness in the atmosphere whenever the three of you hung out.

His expectation had clearly been that you two would kiss and make up before you took him out of campus for a dinner that he would wheedle you and Mark into splitting only two ways. Technically, that had all worked out in his favor, apart from the fact that in between the kissing and the making up, you had shared a steamy shower with Mark in the boys’ locker room that had ultimately ended with you scaring away the school janitor and had kept Donghyuck waiting outside in the rain (sort of) for the better part of an hour.

He’d played it cool at first, so it seemed; he’d asked for details, which you refused to divulge in excess, and he’d promised to pester Mark about it later on when it was just the two of them, only he received the same — if not a firmer — kind of rejection from the latter. He’d even taken fairly kindly to the suggestion that he stay in Renjun’s room for a couple of nights in the week that followed so that you could, in his words, desecrate the living space with your love, which clearly implied that he’d expected the two of you to just be going at it in the middle of the common area.

Over time, though, he’s grown fairly more wary of the implications of the relationship. It seemed to have started when he’d come home from class to find you both in the kitchen, where you had apparently been “making out next to the honey butter chips” he’d been so “excited to eat, and now it’s just ruined,” and he’d refused to listen to the argument that it couldn’t possibly be a health hazard considering the bag was still sealed. Or, it might have started a little before that, when he had to desperately run to Renjun’s bathroom to pee because you had engaged Mark in a steamier and much more enthusiastic reenactment of your shower room scene and had locked the door (something that, at the time, was for Donghyuck’s benefit). The conversation that had followed when you’d come out to an out-of breath and clearly upset Donghyuck had been sheepish and fairly uncomfortable for all parties involved, and you’d taken great care to gloss over the fact that he’d heard you repeatedly and not at all abashedly egging Mark on with a few choice nicknames and phrases.

Possibly the biggest issue, though, was the one time you and Mark had gone out for a date. There aren’t a ton of options around the campus area that have good food at a college-student-acceptable price, so there are only two options: this one supposedly Italian restaurant owned by a man who constantly ends a rundown of the specials with the statement that you can leave without paying if you don’t like the food — which you’ve long since considered but Mark says it’s unethical (something you think is kind of characteristic but still wholly unfair for him to say) — and the place you often go to with the boys that serves breakfast for dinner. You’d been trying to wheedle Mark into finally getting free pasta with you by breaking his moral code, and he’d finally agreed (possibly because you’d literally backed him into a corner after football practice and begged, among other things, on your knees), but the place had been full up, and neither of you were willing to stick around for half an hour in line. The alternative you’d gone to had been fine; for the first time in your life, you’d gotten to order something other than pancakes and sausages with egg, and you’d found out that the place did actually make good food that wasn’t meant to be consumed at eight in the morning.

For the most part, it had been a great experience; the perks of being friends with Mark beforehand was that you had just skipped the awkward small talk phase altogether. In fact, it had been basically like a normal evening hang-out from before, except for the fact that Mark seemed less reserved than he had been when you were just friends. Also, you had never hung out with him as a friend with the knowledge that you had essentially strong-armed him into committing moral suicide at a snobby pasta joint by blowing him like half an hour prior. Even if you never actually got to eat said pasta. So there was all that.

It had been going well until Mark had asked you to pour him a glass of water. In the middle of filling up his glass, you’d heard a tap at the window to your left accompanied by a shadow that loomed over your table. You’d snapped your head to the side to see Lee fucking Donghyuck, pouting at the both of you and pointing accusingly at the half-eaten spaghetti and meatballs on the table. His breath had been fogging up the glass to the point that his entire face was blurry, and you couldn’t really understand anything he was saying, but it had sounded a little like pancakes and without me. You had gaped so much at him that you’d completely forgotten Mark’s glass was already full, and the water had spilled out all over the table and onto his lap. By the time the fog had cleared up, you were more concerned with the problem of your boyfriend looking like he’d just wet himself, and Donghyuck had skulked off into the darkness.

Since then, Donghyuck’s moods have ranged from teasing, to hesitant, to downright disgruntled. He’d constantly announce himself before coming into a room where the both of you were, which was kind of annoying when you were together in the library. Renjun had even once come to you during a lunch break, pleading that you and Mark take him back because he was tired of stepping on Donghyuck’s face every time he had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. You’d argued that there was a wall and a door separating Mark’s and Donghyuck’s bedrooms from each other, but he’d just fired back with the suggestion that you could chip in for some quality noise-canceling headphones. The worst was when Mark had told you — half-laughing, half-incredulous — that Donghyuck had canceled their shared Netflix subscription because he was worried all the rom-coms the two of you watch together while boning would appear on his suggested list. Mark had been more insulted by the thought of being associated with rom-coms more than anything else in that conversation.

You decided to more actively include Donghyuck into your activities at that time, and you and Mark made a pact to never act like a couple in front of him. It seemed clear that was what Donghyuck had wanted. Still, when you’d asked him out to study, it had felt kind of weird considering that you were a level higher than him and could only confer with each other, leaving Donghyuck to look sourly at you across the table like you were seducing each other instead of asking questions about the worksheet. There had even been an instance where you’d gone out for a morning jog together, but Donghyuck’s legs were much longer than the both of yours, and he ended up creating some distance between himself and the two of you, which had just led him to whine at the both of you to hurry up since you were probably lagging behind on purpose so you could find a way to slip away under the bleachers and bang one out before he’d made it around the track.

The pinnacle of tension arrives on a Thursday night, when you urged the both of them to keep Donghyuck’s favorite tradition and have breakfast for dinner. It seemed like a good idea, bringing back that one activity that represented your friendship, and even Donghyuck didn’t resist the suggestion. The problems only start when the three of you were seated in the exact same booth you’d been on during that date, a fact that Donghyuck seems to remember vividly as he stares at the table for a good, long, and wholly excruciating second before sliding in with an unreadably calm expression. You make desperate eye contact with Mark, who had been moving to sit next to you already, and he does this weird jerky reaction before he backtracks and moves to sit next to Donghyuck instead.

A silence falls over the three of you after your orders are placed, and Mark is playing with his glass, turning it around and around idly. Donghyuck, on the other hand, is staring directly at you, still kind of blank, his hands folded on the tabletop. You open your mouth, and his eyebrows go up, but you realize you have nothing to say and shut it again.

“So,” Donghyuck starts after a while. “Was the pasta here any good?”

“It was okay,” you reply after glancing at Mark, who seems unperturbed by everything else, a talent you wish you could possess. “A little rich, but mostly okay.”

“Have you guys gone to that pasta place across the student center?”

“No, but we wanted to.”

“On another date, you mean.”

You don’t miss the sadness in his voice; even Mark looks up at him, then at you, but offers nothing to say, for some absurd reason.

“Well… that’s still up in the air,” you wave the topic away, but Donghyuck presses on, possibly convinced that this is all part of the required conversation friends that hang out should have.

“You guys know that you can get free pasta there if you lie to the owner and say it wasn’t good, right?”

“Yeah, I… we heard,” you admit.

“We were actually thinking of going there,” Mark finally chimes in, although the timing is terrible and Donghyuck’s face darkens considerably. “But it was full up.”

“So you guys ended up here,” Donghyuck says, finally piecing together the bigger picture. “At our regular restaurant. That’s… cool.”

You frown at Mark, who doesn’t even look remotely remorseful; he just shrugs, a small jerk of the shoulders that Donghyuck misses.

That had been the longest silence you’d shared since… ever; you can’t even remember the last time that you’d hung out with Donghyuck and it had been this quiet. Mark was one thing, but Donghyuck, for the most part, liked to talk, and so did you. You distinctly remember the restaurant constantly filled with chatter, mostly from your table. What had you even talked about back then that had lasted for hours? You distinctly remember an argument about Iron Man’s fate in the last Avengers movie that had gone on until the waitress had told you to leave because she had to close down and go home to her kids. Now, you can’t even ask Donghyuck what he thinks about the weather.

The food that comes to your table is appropriate for the mood; it’s stale and a little bland, since nobody seems to like eating breakfast for dinner anymore, which just means reheated pancakes and microwaved hotdogs. Even with that topic up in the air, no one really says anything; at one point, you’re so bored that you check your phone to see that Mark has butt texted you a couple of times.

Donghyuck’s first tiny outburst happens midway through the meal. You desperately want to add some kind of flavor to your food, but you don’t know if you’re up to breaking the silence. The result is you coughing loudly — twice, because Mark doesn’t pay attention the first time — and eyeing the little pitcher of maple syrup by his elbow. He doesn’t grasp it fully and reaches out for the napkin stand instead, which just leads to you staring more intensely at the syrup, furrowing your eyebrows at it like it’s supposed to help. All he does is throw you a much more intense look of confusion.

Donghyuck, who appears to have been watching this depressing miscommunication between the two of you since the beginning, suddenly speaks up.

“Do you want me to leave, or something? You can just say so.”

“What?” You snap your gaze to him, shocked to the point that you can’t even acknowledge Mark’s intelligence belatedly returning to him as he passes you the maple syrup. “Of course not. Why would you think we want that?”

“I don’t know. This,” he points his fork at the two of you. A drop of maple syrup falls off of it and onto the table. “This weird eyefucking thing you two are doing.”

“We’re not eyefucking. I was asking for the maple syrup,” you clarify.

“Oh. Okay.” He doesn’t seem entirely convinced. “Couldn’t you have just asked?”

You have no response to this, and Mark throws you a patronizing yeah, you could have look that you pointedly ignore because you can only feel like it had been his fault for not understanding your blinks and squints anyway.

The second scene happens when you’re finished and waiting for the bill. At this point, the silence, which had only been interrupted by brief and insignificant comments from either you and Donghyuck, had become so unbearably stuffy that you feel close to tears. In your exasperation, you try to catch Mark’s attention, hoping to get him to pull his weight by saying something. Unfortunately, he’s busy going through his wallet and rearranging the notes from the 50,000’s down to the 1,000’s, and he doesn’t see anything. You move to an alternative plan, which is to kick his foot until he notices, but when your foot collides with something hard, it’s not him that reacts first.

“Ow!” Donghyuck yells, and you start, sitting up straighter and reaching out to him on impulse. “What the fuck was that for?”

“Sorry!” You half-stand, unsure of what to do; Donghyuck is looking up at you like a wounded dog, which is as much as you deserve. “Sorry, sorry! I wasn’t — I didn’t mean — I was going for Mark!”

“Why?” he demands, brow furrowing for a moment before they shoot up, and his expression morphs into one of disgust. “That’s nasty, noona!”

“What? No, I wasn’t — !” You throw your hands up, embarrassed and irritated all at once. “I was just trying to get his attention!”

“How?”

“I don’t know! He wasn’t looking, and it just felt weird, and I wanted him to say something!”

“Really? All of this kama sutra shit while I’m around? You guys are just shoving it into my face at this point.”

“Technically,” Mark says, now very unhelpfully and — more to the fact — uselessly. “We try to keep you out of the loop as much as possible.”

Donghyuck looks incensed, so this is clearly not the response he’d wanted. “How come I’m just supposed to sit here and watch you two make out without me and take it all in quietly? You could at least try to make me less of a third wheel when we’re together.”

“Donghyuck, we’re not trying to make you a third wheel,” you reason. “I know it feels that way, but nothing’s changed.”

“Technically—” Mark starts again, and you kick him, this time with more precision, into silence. He falls quiet without argument.

“It feels that way because it is that way. You guys are just living your best lives in love without me.” Donghyuck stands up, and you watch him do so with confusion and a ton of regret on your face. “Can we go back now? I have a presentation tomorrow and I want to make sure my PowerPoint doesn’t have any typos.”

You watch in helpless disappointment as Mark obediently slips out of the booth so Donghyuck can walk out as well; after a moment of dumbly staring at them fixing their coat collars, you step out and join them. The restaurant’s lights shut off when you exit, and the three of you walk quietly back home. You feel Mark’s hand bump into yours a couple of times by accident, but on the third time, his fingers lace into yours, and he gives them a tight, reassuring squeeze.

Donghyuck disappears into his room after announcing that he’s bought some new ear plugs from the pharmacy and had been planning on testing them out anyway, but the statement that you guys can do whatever you like seems half-hearted. To be safe, you and Mark take quick, separate showers before crawling into his bed. You keep the lights on because you’re fairly certain he’s going to fall asleep if he’s in the dark for more than ten minutes, and you want to make sure he stays up so that you can get some fairly substantial feedback when you unload the thoughts plaguing you since the restaurant experience.

Still, you’re silent for the first few moments, trying to collect yourself into articulating your feelings. Mark is on his side, an elbow propping his head up, and his palm is laying on your stomach, rubbing it in small, gentle circles. The moments tick by, and neither of you speak until he bends down to press a kiss to your shoulder.

“You gonna break up with me or something?” He chuckles softly after letting you have your long bout of silence. “I’m willing to beg if necessary.”

“Isn’t it just weird?” You finally begin, ignoring his stupidly absurd question completely. He doesn’t even flinch at the volume difference between your voice and his. “I thought he was okay with it.”

“Me too. He even told me he was going to tell you he heard me jerking off in the shower after we studied for the Traditional History midterm if I didn’t confess to you.”

“Yeah, and he — did you really do that?”

“Obviously.” He doesn’t even turn red, or anything; Mark, since that day, has defied your personal expectations and grown immensely immune to feeling embarrassment when talking about the erotic. “That was too specific for me to make up.”

“What a coincidence,” you laugh. “I masturbated after that review session too.”

“Really?”

“Your hair looked nice, plus you smelled super good.”

“I should go back to my old shampoo, if that’s what gets you running.”

“I don’t really think it’s the shampoo,” you turn over as well, mimicking his position. His hand stays on you, now resting on the dip of your waist. “But about Donghyuck — is it mean that I feel like he’s overreacting?”

“Not really, but only because it seems that way to me too. Like, now I have to pay for my own Netflix because he’s acting weird, which is just such a waste of money.” You think it’s a little bit funny that Mark’s still tied up on the Netflix issue, but you suppose that you’d be a little miffed if you had to redo your entire watchlist from scratch again too, so you opt not to say anything. “It’s really hard to overlook the fact that he thinks we’re doing everything in our power to stop being friends with him.”

“I know!” You say, louder than you should, and Mark’s finger flies to his lips as you both fall silent, listening for Donghyuck. You hear nothing, so you assume he hadn’t either. Still, you lower your voice to a much more acceptable decibel thereafter. “I know. It was like that time he spent playing annoying matchmaker had just flown out of the window.”

“But we can’t blame him either,” Mark sighs softly, fingers drumming against your side. “Being a third wheel sucks. We all know that. We’ve all been there.”

“We’re not trying to actually exclude him when we’re together, though.”

“But we do.” He shrugs. “I mean, even without doing anything, we do. It’s already inherently different for him because he knows he’s not actually part of the equation.”

“We can’t make him any more a part of this equation than we already have,” you frown.

“I know that. Look — maybe he just needs a little bit of time to adjust. I’m sure he’s just reacting badly to change more than he is to our actual relationship.”

“I guess,” you sigh again, heavily and more dramatically this time. “I just wish we could do something so he wouldn’t react badly at all.”

“We’ve tried. Maybe now just isn’t the right time.”

The both of you fall into a thoughtful silence; you can see Mark’s eyelids getting heavy, and even you’re stifling a few yawns here and there. It seems the conversation’s mostly died out unresolved, but you’re not sure it’s actually ended; neither is Mark, who’s still watching you like he’s waiting for you to say something else. When you don’t, he leans in, pressing a small, sweet kiss to your forehead.

The quiet is broken by Mark’s bedroom door flinging open. In the doorway stands Donghyuck, one earplug in his hand, the other wedged tightly into his ear. His bottom lip is jutting out already, which is a signal that he’s already prepared a full complaint report to file beforehand.

“You guys could at least try to keep the sex down. There’s only two of you. There’s no way you’re having that much fun to make this much noise.”

“We’re not even naked,” you respond in disbelief, twisting your torso to look at him. “We’re just talking.”

“Oh.”

Donghyuck rolls the earplug between his fingers, visibly embarrassed. You guess those things have been working well considering he hadn’t even heard you talking about anything before he’d burst in and make a small mental note to congratulate him on his great new investment. You watch him, waiting for him to say something — anything — about what’s bothering him and why he’s so intent on calling you out for the smallest things. Instead, he just gropes for the light switch on the wall next to him, pushing the button and plunging the three of you into darkness. He trudges away, closing the door behind himself while muttering something about energy conservation.

You feel Mark shift; he takes the darkness as a signal that it’s time to sleep, so he lays down carefully on his side, his hand reaching out to rub at your back. Dismayed, you right your position, facing away from him and lying down as well. A moment later, you feel the warmth of his body against your back, and his breath blows lightly against your cheek.

He dozes off five minutes in, and you know because his breathing becomes extremely deep and even. Even when you toy a little with his fingers, he doesn’t budge, and you lie there for what feels like hours trying to decode this weird situation. First the uncharacteristic silence and moodiness, followed by the weird experience in the restaurant. And now this, with him constantly expecting you to be ravaging each other, like his mind is just totally tunnel focusing on how everything you do is a byproduct of your being perpetually horny. It’s almost like he’s too weirdly interested in it, like he’s…

You reach backwards, smacking Mark in the shoulder. He grunts in response but still doesn’t move, so you do it again, calling out to him. His grip tightens on your waist as he mumbles a sleepy what now?

“Do you remember what Donghyuck said in the restaurant?”

“He hardly said anything.”

“I know. But he said something weird about us.”

“What — that he thought we were eyefucking, or that he thought you were giving me a footjob?” Mark pauses for a moment. “By the way, out of pure curiosity, if we ever make a list of things we’re into, is that something you’d put or, like — because knowing you, I feel like it wouldn’t hurt to ask once —”

“No. No, he said something kind of wack, like,” you scrunch up your nose. “How come he has to sit there and watch us make out without him?”

“Yeah?” You can tell Mark is already drifting off again, so you turn around in an attempt to force him into the same epiphany you’ve experienced. Only one of his eyes is open and the other one is giving up pretty quickly too. “So?”

“He was annoyed that we were making out,” you repeat. “Without him.”

Carefully, almost comically, Mark’s other eye starts to open, and his eyebrows are also rising. He lifts his head off the pillow, gaping at you in sleepy shock.

“It can’t be.”

“You said we were leaving him out of the sex, and he looked really ticked off.”

“Yeah, because who wants to talk about sex over shit quality pancakes?”

“There’s only two of you,” you mimic Donghyuck’s sleepy, irritated voice. “There’s no way you’re having that much fun to make this much noise.”

Mark looks stumped. He’s actually reminiscent of a goldfish, his mouth opening and closing as he struggles to find the words. The only thing he can think of is a repeat of “It can’t be.”

“Mark,” you say slowly. “What if we’ve been including Donghyuck in all the wrong things?”

Surprisingly, it isn’t hard to convince Mark to play along. Maybe it’s because he’s not doing a lot of the proverbial heavy-lifting, or maybe he just knows there’s not much point in attempting to talk you out of anything once you’re convinced that you’re going to do it. Either way, he falls asleep in the middle of dazedly agreeing to what you’re planning, and when you wake up, he’s stuck a note to your forehead saying he’ll see you during practice and reminding you to eat your breakfast. Even Donghyuck is gone for his first class of the day.

There’s a slightly new development when you go to practice after your classes, where the team captain, Sooyoung, instructs you all to go back to the locker room because the shipment of the new uniforms has finally arrived. You feel a slight twinge of resentment towards her, partly because the team had been waiting around under the heat of the afternoon sun for a good fifteen minutes before she’d arrived but also mostly because going back to the locker rooms means you can’t watch Mark do laps with the rest of the football team, a personal tradition you’ve always loved.

Still, you don’t have much of a choice, and you allow yourself to be trooped back into the locker room with the rest of your team to squeeze yourself into the uniforms. The fact that you’d already gotten a little sticky from being outside makes it almost impossible to get yourself dressed in top speed, and it didn’t help that Sooyoung came to tell you all to hurry up so that you could try the new routine in the new devil’s suit. You don’t necessarily miss the old uniform, but this one, despite being more elastic, also has thick stripes of glitter around the collar and hem as well as in regular intervals on the skirt pleats, so you have to stay far from each other when walking to avoid melting together into one, gross glitter bomb.

It pays off when you get back out, though, because the change is welcomed by the people on the field — mostly the players themselves — and it shows in small things, like how Jaehyun gets a face full of ball because he’s too busy checking his girlfriend out to pay attention to Jeno, who lobs the ball towards him with all his might, or like how Mark just stands by the ice box full of half-melted bottles of water with a blank, almost dazed expression until the coach calls him out by name.

Football practice ends half an hour before cheerleading practice does today, considering you’d wasted time wrestling with your uniforms, but Mark patiently waits on the bleachers after his shower while you finish up. You actually think that his presence helps cut Sooyoung’s twenty-minute after-practice talk down to ten minutes because she keeps looking at him, like she’s worried he’s going to tell her to shut up, even though all he’s doing is staring ahead politely. When she dismisses everyone, you walk over to him, and he hands you a water bottle. You don’t miss the once-over he gives you before he decides to fix his gaze on your face.

“Is this the new uniform?” He asks, as if he doesn’t know.

“Yeah. Is it nice?”

“For sure,” he agrees. “It’s good you guys busted that out today instead of during a game. It looks like we have to learn how to get used to it. Me, especially.”

“And Jaehyun.”

“And Jaehyun,” he laughs. “He’s still guilting Jeno into apologizing, even though we all know he wasn’t paying attention.”

“I’m going to take a shower, then we can go back together. Did you do what I asked?”

“Yeah. Oh — if you haven’t yet,” his fingers toy idly with a pleat on your skirt. “You should consider doing it in this.”

“The fact that you’re actually actively participating in this is seriously attractive.” You run your fingers through his hair; the water keeps it stuck in the messy way you push it into. “I like your hair like this.”

He chuckles, rejecting your hand and combing his hair forward into the neatness he’s so used to. You laugh when he smacks your hand away lightly as you try to muss it up again. “Go shower. I’ll wait out here.”

You take a quick shower, only slightly derailed by the fact that you have to dash out to grab your towel, which you’ve left on the bench near your locker. When you come out, Mark is waiting by the door instead of on the bleachers, playing games on his phone. On the way back to his room, he tells you about how he had to leave that area because he thought that he’d heard Jaehyun moaning from somewhere under the bleachers, a sound he was not emotionally prepared to hear, and the thought that he’d been eavesdropping on something highly private and easily escalatable had driven him from his seat.

When you get back to the room, though, you’re surprised that Donghyuck isn’t back yet, considering his classes had ended hours earlier. Mark theorizes that you’d scared him away, but you note that the food in the refrigerator is exactly as you’d seen it this morning when you’d grabbed breakfast, which heightens the likelihood that Donghyuck hasn’t come home at all. He doesn’t, actually, for another hour, during which you and Mark watch Blue Earth on Netflix simply because he doesn’t want the 10,000 won he pays every month to go down the drain. You’re halfway through the deep sea creatures episode when the door lock clicks and Donghyuck comes in, just as Mark is headed to his bedroom to take a call from his mom, who you distinctly hear asking about how well he’s treating you.

“Nice suit,” you comment, noticing that Donghyuck dressed up for his presentation; you know he only has, like, one actually nice suit that he saves for events that require him to look decent and formal, considering the fact that he usually goes to class in ripped jeans and worn cotton t-shirts. “How’d your presentation go?”

You don’t actually expect a proper response, and you don’t get one; he just glares at you as he toes off his shoes and drops his backpack on the floor by the door. It’s a half-minute staring contest, with your innocent, questioning expression and his more venomous one, which ends when he stops in front of you, towering over your head and effectively blocking the television.

“Where’s Mark hyung?”

“Talking to his mom about what a great girlfriend I am,” you reply. “Why?”

“I have a bone to pick with both of you.”

“So pick away,” you reply, leaning back on the couch. “We don’t have to wait for him. I’ll get him up to speed when he comes back.”

“Fine,” he fishes around for his phone, extracting it from his pocket before opening it, angrily tapping on the screen and scrolling. You can hear his nails hit the glass with the force of his taps. “Fine. Care to explain this?”

He shows you his phone, and you squint to read what he’s presented. It’s your Facebook chat with him, and on the top is the first thing you’d sent him this morning: a good luck on your presentation! message, with some very caring heart eyes and star emojis. Granted, you’d also accidentally pressed the middle finger emoji, but you’d quickly retracted that.

“It’s a message that represents my utmost support for all of your academic endeavors,” you raise your eyebrows at him. “That you’ve cruelly seen zoned, so thank you for that.”

“Not that — these,” he scrolls the chat further downwards for you.

There’s a set of pictures under your earlier message, dated after practice today, none of which expose your face. The first one is focused on your chest, and you’re carefully tightening your arms closer together to push your boobs together, a selfie that had been fairly difficult to take and that you’d actually taken great pride in when you’d done it. The one under it is from a similar angle, except you’ve taken advantage of the amazing elasticity of the top of your cheerleading uniform to pull down the collar, the cup of your bra going down with it. Your thumb and forefinger are lightly pinching your nipple, and you hadn’t noticed earlier when you’d taken the picture, but there’s a smattering of residual glitter from the uniform that makes your skin look kind of awesome and mystical.

The latter two had required a fair amount of logistic forethought as well as patience, since you had to wait for everyone else to leave before you could do it. You’re fairly pleased that they’d turned out pretty nicely; the third picture is a view of your ass, the uniform’s skirt pushed up over your hips to expose your underwear. Cheerleaders are technically required to wear cycling shorts under the skirt because, well, school rules, but you’d discarded them before taking the picture. You also usually favor function over fashion during practice, but since you’d prepared yourself for this moment, you’d decided to put your own preferences aside and worn something lacier and, consequently, a little more see-through. The last photo is a personal favorite, with you still in the same position, except you’ve pushed your underwear aside, revealing your pussy. As an added bonus, you’re also using your index and middle finger to spread your lips, which you thought was kind of hot at the time, except, by the look on Donghyuck’s face, it might have been overkill.

Under all of those photos, you’d written one short and sweet message: All for you, baby. No lame emojis this time, because it had seemed like a serious matter.

You look back up at Donghyuck, who’s clearly close to bursting with words with how red his face is.

“We got a new cheerleading uniform today,” you explain, although you know it’s not really the reasoning he wants. “I was kind of proud of how nice it looked.”

“I can barely see the uniform — you know what? You’re totally missing the point.” He looks like he’s gnashing his teeth. “That’s not even all of it.”

He turns the phone back to himself, and you calmly wait as his taps grow increasingly aggressive. A minute later, he turns the phone back to you, showing you a different chat; Mark’s name is on top this time, and there’s only one picture. It’s actually kind of funny considering it’s a little blurry, but you greatly appreciate it nonetheless, considering it’s a photo of his dick, half-erect, while he’s standing in what appears to be the shower stall in the locker room. The exact same message you’d sent Donghyuck — the horny one, not the one about his presentation — is also under his single photo.

You make eye contact with Donghyuck again, still fairly stoic. “Is that all of it?”

He looks torn between being annoyed and nonplussed. “Is that all of it? You guys both wrong-sent me your couple nudes!”

“Do you not often get them, or something?”

“I was at dinner, noona,” he clutches his phone to his chest now, like he’s afraid you’re going to nab it and start taking more naked pictures. “I was out with Renjun when you sent me these!”

“So? You let Renjun look at your phone?”

“No, of course not, but I—” he splutters, clearly befuddled by how calm you are about everything. “I don’t want to be eating something then have to see your accidental nudes to each other!”

“They’re not,” you correct him.

“Not what? Nudes? These are, by every definition of a nude, nudes!”

“I meant that they’re not accidental.”

You’ve seen Donghyuck stumped before, but you’ve never seen him this lost for words; after a brief, perplexed pause, he’s started making all these weird, breathy, disbelieving sounds, like he’s just forgotten how to form sentences at all. His knuckles turn white as he grips his phone even tighter.

While he’s coming to terms with your statement, Mark quietly comes back in, having ended the call with his mother; you notice he’s watching Donghyuck carefully, but he says nothing as he sits down next to you. Donghyuck looks at him, like he’s expecting a sensible answer, or like a statement that this is all a joke, but Mark just sits there in the same kind of silence as you. You don’t even bother keeping him up to speed; it’s clear by his expression that he’s already aware of what’s going on.

Two long, heavy minutes pass, and it becomes clear that Donghyuck isn’t going to speak. He’s just looking at you now, this sort of distant, glassy gaze on his face, his mind clearly working overtime and frying out. You decide to break the silence, since you know Mark isn’t going to.

“Donghyuck,” you call out to him, and he apparently comes crashing back down to earth. “Do you want to have a seat?”

“What do you mean they’re not accidental?” He finally demands.

“Not accidental. Intentional? Deliberate.” You elaborate with a tone that suggests this should be obvious. "We sent them to you on purpose.”

“But Mark hyung sent me the — the — this!” He flips his phone around again, almost losing his hold on it, to show Mark the screen. The latter just looks at it with mild interest.

“And when does Mark message someone the wrong thing?”

“But you said! You said,” he turns the phone back to himself, eyes scanning the screen feverishly before showing it to you again, index finger jabbing at your message. “You said all for you, baby!”

“I don’t really call Mark ‘baby.’” You shrug. “I know you know that much now.”

Donghyuck’s eyebrows have practically disappeared into his bangs, and his mouth is opening and closing soundlessly. Mark takes the phone from his hand, exiting his chat and going to yours, scrolling up a little to look at your pictures.

“Nice,” he says appreciatively as he hands the phone back to Donghyuck, who takes it robotically.

“Thank you.” You squeeze his thigh. Donghyuck just watches this exchange, disbelief still written on his face. “Donghyuck — I really do think you should sit down, or something. You look like you’re going to faint.”

You watch him slowly go over to the tiny dining table in the kitchen, grabbing one of the monobloc chairs and dragging it back to his former position. He sinks down onto the seat, now looking at you with a renewed desire to speak.

“You need to explain.”

“Actually, I think you need to answer my question first.” You lean forward, and you see Donghyuck swallow. Hard. You also don’t miss the fact that his eyes flit nervously to your breasts, which have been pushed together slightly again as you rest your elbows on your knees. “Donghyuck, when you said you didn’t like being left out like a third wheel, what did you mean?”

He fixes a bemused look on you, rubbing the back of his neck. “What do you mean ‘what did I mean’? Have you ever heard someone say damn, I wish I could be the loser third wheel to my best friends for the rest of my life?”

“We’ve tried to do things with you, haven’t we? As far as we know, we’ve done most of the stuff we used to do with you before even until now, after Mark and I got together. We don’t do gross, couple-y stuff when you’re around. But we can tell that there’s still something bothering you. Isn’t there?”

“Well,” his eyes flit to Mark, who’s just carefully and politely watching the events unfold. “Well, yeah. I just… wanted to sort of be included in stuff. More stuff.”

“Like?”

He lets out a soft huff, but he doesn’t bother to say anything. Instead, you watch as his face grows redder, and he’s now refusing to make eye contact with either of you. Unfortunately, the only other thing in his immediate line of sight is your chest, which he has a spectacular view of from his seat, so he averts his eyes to the side, staring at the empty space beside you on the couch.

“I’m going to just go out on a limb here,” you shrug when it’s clear he’s lapsed into another stony, embarrassed silence again. “And you can just tell me if I’m right, and if I’m wrong, Mark and I will sincerely apologize for everything we’ve put you through today. You just have to be honest. Okay?”

You see him give the tiniest of nods towards the empty space on the couch.

“Donghyuck, were you upset because you wanted in on the sex?”

You’ve never seen Donghyuck this red; the reddest you’d seen him was during that Avengers argument, and even that look on him didn’t hold a candle to the state of his face now. He’s twisting his phone in his hands, agitated, and he keeps inexplicably glancing at you. After a while, he takes a shaky breath, once again keeping his gaze firmly away.

“I know it’s super fucked up.”

“Not the most fucked up thing in the world, I’m pretty sure.”

“Still sure it’s halfway up that list,” he sighs. “Look — at first, you know, it was… okay? I mean, technically, it still is, like, I’m not really mad that you guys are together, or whatever. But then, I don’t know — I got jealous, I guess? And it was kind of mixed in with how much I like you guys, and it was also this weird realization that, you know, maybe, maybe, I was kind of… attracted. To the both of you. I mean,” he flails his hands in an attempt to get the words to come out faster. “I mean, you’re both super hot.”

“Thank you,” your joking voice harmonizes with Mark’s weirdly more serious and immediate response.

“It was an extremely confusing period of time for me. So, I mean, obviously I got frustrated. Like, mentally, but also sexually. I shouldn’t have, but I guess I took it out on you guys.” His shoulders slump forward. “Sorry.”

“First of all, thank you for your honesty,” you lean back onto the couch, and you hear him breathe out a small sigh of relief as he sees a window of opportunity to look at you again. “Second — I hope you don’t think you’re not super hot yourself.”

“I mean,” he twiddles his thumbs; the shock and disbelief have left him, it seems, replaced by growing sheepishness. “I’m okay, I guess.”

“That’s crappy modesty.” For the first time since he’d stormed in, he lets out a soft laugh. “Look — we’re sorry too.”

“You guys don’t have to be.” He looks up, a little alarmed. “I mean… you’re a couple. No one really wants their friend to just dive in when they’re supposed to be a third wheel.”

“That’s the thing, though,” you shrug. “We don’t want you to be just a constant, unhappy third wheel.”

You stare at Donghyuck’s phone, and he notices, peeling it away from his chest and looking back down at your messages with his brow furrowed. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Mark raise a hand to his mouth, probably to cover up the fact that he’s close to bursting out into laughter at Donghyuck’s constantly morphing comical expressions. He poorly disguises one chuckle as a cough.

Donghyuck seems to be stuck on buffering mode again, just opening and minimizing each picture in the chat ceaselessly. You place a hand on his knee, giving it a small squeeze to get him to look at you again.

“What we’re asking — you don’t have to do it, or whatever. But if you want to — if you really want to — just say so.”

It’s a staring contest again, except there’s much less heat involved; Donghyuck seems to be mapping every plane of your face, trying to figure out if there’s any sign of insincerity. After a long moment, you see the corners of his mouth twitch, and his voice comes out soft.

“You know I want to.”

“Good,” you squeeze his thigh again. His eyes follow you as you stand, and he stays silent as you settle back down onto his lap, only sparing a glance at Mark like he wants some sort of confirmation. His gaze falls back on you as you comb his hair back with your fingers, a small smile playing on your lips. Donghyuck looks like he has a lot of questions, but he swallows them down as your fingers fall to his shoulders then to his chest, pushing aside the folds of his blazer. “If at any point, you feel like stopping — if it gets weird, or anything like that, just say so.”

“I’m not going to.”

“I was hoping you’d say as much,” you laugh softly, helping him out of the blazer. Donghyuck isn’t by far the most muscular person you’ve met, but he’s naturally more substantial than most, and the fact that his inner shirt is kind of tight on him just highlights that. You can feel him shivering slightly under your fingers, which gives you the brief impression that he’s nervous, but it doesn’t show all that much when you start unbuttoning his shirt and he moves to help you, from the bottom up.

His eyes keep shifting between you and Mark, like he can’t decide who to focus on more, but you catch his attention for a little while longer as you undo the knot on his tie, tugging it loose from his neck. The front folds of his shirt have fallen away from each other, hanging loose at his sides, and you can see now how quickly he’s breathing, his chest rising and falling erratically.

“You okay?” You whisper, hanging the tie over the back of your neck. You’re so close to him you actually hear him swallow slowly.

“Yeah, it’s just…” He licks his lips. Once. Twice. “This slow, sexy pace is coming at a bad time for me.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’ve been pretty hard since I left the restaurant. You guys couldn’t have picked a worse time to send those pictures.”

“We were assuming you’d just be home,” Mark’s voice is a welcome addition to the dialogue — low and a little gruff, a telltale sign of his arousal. “You usually are.”

“Yeah, well I…” Donghyuck’s voice trails off as he fixates on your fingers, which are moving around your neck. You observe his jaw going slack, little by little, as he takes in the fact that you’re using his tie as a makeshift choker, the ends forming a lopsided ribbon at the base of your throat. “I…”

“Go on. We’re listening.”

“I… am so…” He inhales deeply, closing his eyes for a second like he’s rebooting himself. “I am… unbelievably turned on.”

“You like this?” You finger the ends of the tie, your smile growing as he nods. “That’s a little kinky of you.”

“I’m kinky?” His laugh is part breathless, part incredulous. “I’m not even half the kinky you are, noona.”

You lean in closer, watching Donghyuck’s eyes instinctively flutter close; your lips land on the bridge of his nose first, then the tip, before falling onto his mouth, where he tilts his head up just enough to meet the kiss firmly. It’s brief but sweet, and when you pull back, his head follows on impulse, trying to chase yours. When you lean in again, your lips land on his jaw, trailing up the sharp angle all the way up to his earlobe. Your breath on his skin is either tickling him or revving him up, because he grips your waist tightly, blunt nails digging shallowly into your skin.

“I’ll accept that compliment,” you murmur, blowing more hot air into the shell of his ear. “But no one in this room isn’t at least a little bit kinky.”

“Even Mark hyung?”

“Even Mark,” you agree, trapping his earlobe between your teeth and tugging on it lightly. A soft gasp escapes him, but instead of pulling away, he only holds you tighter, pulling your hips closer to his. “But we don’t call him that right now, do we?”

Donghyuck’s shoulders freeze; it’s clear he’s holding his breath. For a moment, you’re worried you’ve scared him off, and you stay still too, until you feel him exhale shakily. He gives a minute shake of the head.

“That’s right. What do we call him?”

Not for the first time today, you wonder if what you’re doing is a little overboard for Donghyuck, especially since he’s being initiated into this weird situation where you’re essentially playing out some of your personal whims. You experience a slight wave of worry in the span of time it takes for you to ask that question and for Donghyuck to respond, but the wait pays off when he clears his throat a little and answers, voice barely above a whisper.

“Daddy.”

“What about you, Donghyuck?” You continue to whisper, only pausing to let you tongue slip out, the tip tracing the shell of his ear. “What do you think we should call you?”

His breathing hitches again, and you have to hold onto his shoulders while he shifts in his seat so you don’t topple off his lap. When he speaks, though, his voice is surprisingly clearer. You don’t know if he thinks there’s a right answer, but he says it nonetheless.

“Baby.”

“That’s good,” you squeeze his shoulders in assurance, and he returns the favor on your waist. “You’re already doing so well, baby. Are you looking at daddy?”

His earlobe bumps against your tongue as he nods again, and you trap it between your teeth again, tugging on it until he makes a soft whining sound.

“Can you tell me what he’s doing?”

“He’s…” Donghyuck clears his throat, losing a little bit of the nerve he’d had just a moment ago. That, or he’s distracted, and you can’t blame him given his answer. “He’s — he’s jerking himself off.”

“Is that so?” You pull away, unable to resist confirming for yourself. You’re not disappointed; Mark is still in his exact same spot on the couch, but he’s pushed down the front of his sweatpants, palming at his cock through his boxers. His eyes lift to meet yours when you turn, and a small smile lifts the corners of his lips. “Having fun on your own?”

“Just enjoying the view,” he chuckles softly. The bulge pushing against the fabric just keeps growing. “You can pretend I’m not here.”

“No way.” Your hands make their way back to Donghyuck’s chest, tracing spirals down his skin. He sucks in his stomach a little when your touch travels down to his abdomen, and he blows out the air against your cheek a moment later. “Audience participation is mandatory.”

“At least let me appreciate it for a little while longer.”

“Fair enough,” you turn back to Donghyuck, who snaps his head back up to your face like he’s been caught not paying attention. He really hasn’t though, having taken more of an interest in wondering how far down your hand is going to go and looking a little crestfallen that your index finger is just hovering above his navel. “What do you say, Donghyuck? Should we give daddy a little show?”

“What kind of show?”

“I was thinking something along the lines of my mouth around your cock, but I’m totally open to suggestions.”

Donghyuck doesn’t waste time deciding, nodding instantly before you even finish your sentence. “No suggestions. That’s the best suggestion. Please.”

Mark laughs softly along with you, but Donghyuck can’t afford to be amused when he looks so desperate to have something of any value happen. You oblige, fingers finally completing their journey as they find their way to his slacks, undoing the fastenings and carefully tugging down the zipper.

Donghyuck initiates the next kiss, his hands suddenly coming up to trap your face in between his palms and turning your head up so quickly you don’t even register what he wants before he’s already pressed his mouth against yours. There’s a greater level of want, if not need, in the way he mouths at your lips, like he’s finally realized this is really going somewhere and he doesn’t want to waste time anymore. His mouth is hungry, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and sucking on it so roughly it starts to go a little numb.

You almost forget you’re in the middle of something, but his hips give a little jerk as if to remind you, and you blindly get back to work, pushing down the front of his boxers and wrapping your fingers around his cock. He’s already hard, the tip slick with pre-cum, his cock twitching at your touch. Even if he’d been enthusiastic about your idea, he doesn’t free you from the kiss immediately; he deepens it, tongue finding its way into your mouth, curling up against the roof of your mouth and rubbing against your own. You give his cock a couple of slow pumps as a reminder, but he just moans into your mouth, fingers tangling into your hair.

It’s you that has to break contact first, coming back up for breath. Donghyuck just stares at you, dazed, his mouth still parted slightly. Before you say anything, he’s leaned in again, trapping your lips in another brief but wet kiss. And another. And another. And another. When you press your free hand against his chest to signal him to slow down, there’s a thin line of saliva traveling between your mouth and the corner of his lips. You laugh softly, wiping it away with your thumb. “You’re very eager.”

He holds your face again, giving you another firm kiss; his aim misses slightly this time, landing more on your upper lip. There’s a bit of wetness sticking to the bottom of your nose after. “Is that bad?”

“Of course not. It’s good.” You take his hands away from your face, bringing them up to your lips instead. You press a kiss to each of his knuckles affectionately. “You’re so good for me, baby.”

You land a final kiss against the tip of his nose before shifting backwards. His fingers are still clinging onto yours, and you’re holding hands even when you get onto your knees, easing yourself between his legs. You glance back at Mark; he hasn’t really moved, save for the fact that his cock is now fully exposed too, and he’s pumping it in that slow, almost torturous pace he loves starting with. You don’t see Mark touch himself often, especially since you usually form a party of two with him to get off anyway, but this is a rare sight you actually wouldn’t mind enjoying more often. His brow is slightly furrowed, dark eyes trained on the both of you, a thin sheen of sweat glowing across his forehead. When his eyes meet yours, you wink, way too salaciously for him to take seriously, and the laugh that leaves him is breathy.

Donghyuck gives your fingers a small squeeze when you turn back to him. From this angle, you’re more aware of how flushed his neck and how dangerously quick his Adam’s apple is bobbing, probably because he can’t stop swallowing in anticipation. When you inch your head closer to his cock, he grips your hands even tighter, until the tips of your digits actually turn white.

“Relax, baby,” you whisper, trying to curl your fingers — in vain, unfortunately, because he refuses to let go.

“I can’t,” he replies a little hoarsely. “I’m going to cum fast. I don’t want you guys to think I’m a quick shot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, twisting your dominant hand out of his iron grasp. Desperate to still have something to hang onto, his hand moves immediately to your head, gripping your hair in a haphazard half-ponytail. “I think it’s cute that you’re this excited.”

“Don’t tease me, noona.”

“I’m not teasing you,” you say calmly, but your index finger is enjoying its independence way too much, dragging down the side of his shaft lightly and drawing spirals against his skin as it travels back upwards. He lets out a short, sharp hiss. “I’m just telling it as it is. And if you want to cum, all you need to do is tell me where.”

“What?”

“Tell me where. Mark prefers the mouth, mostly.” He gapes down at you, shaking his head slowly like he’s not fully comprehending how workaday your tone is in comparison to what you’re saying. “Although you can obviously choose on your own.”

“Wh—” His question dies in his throat as his eyes fixate on your mouth, which is now wrapped around the head of his cock. You feel it twitch against your lips, and Donghyuck’s low, drawn-out moans are the rhythmic soundtrack to your endeavor. His grip on your hair tightens, and he starts a mantra of curses once your tongue begins rolling around the tip. “Oh my g— noona, you need to slow down, holy shit—”

Your giggle is muffled against his skin, but the vibrations just seem to spur him on; he clenches your hand like you’re dangling him off a cliff. His head is tilted back, and his chest is heaving dangerously. The hand in your hair jerks your head accidentally, but you power through it, moving your lips downward. His swearing only intensifies as you start to suck on his length, your mouth running up and down half of it.

Donghyuck can’t seem to come to a decision on how to proceed; on one hand, he frequently wheezes out a “no” in between sentences he never finishes, but on the other, he’s starting to place pressure on your head in an attempt to lead it further down. You end up deciding for him when he hisses out an almost angry “fuck, that feels so good,” pressing your tongue up against the underside of his shaft. His cock throbs noticeably in your mouth again; the timing perfectly aligns when you look up at him just to see his eyes roll back one quick moment before he squeezes them shut. His mouth is slightly agape, and he can’t even bring his lips together to swear properly at this point.

Another dangerous twitch of his cock signals that he’s close, and he confirms this when his head suddenly snaps down, eyes flying open.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” He shakes his head again, now looking panicked. “I want — can I cum on your tits?”

You think that’s kind of a complicated decision considering you’re the only one in the room still fully clothed, but you don’t want to deny him, especially not when he looks so desperate. You pull your mouth away quickly, a wet pop sounding between you, and he finally releases your now-numb hand, using it to stroke his cock in your absence. Leaning back, you wrestle your shirt off; you’re about to work on the clasp of your bra too, but a gentle hand gets there before you. Mark has shifted closer for a better view, now unhooking your bra with the hand that isn’t stroking himself.

“Show off.” You grin back at him. He laughs softly, but the sound is drowned out by a slightly louder moan from Donghyuck. His head is in its previous position, tilted back, his bangs matted to his forehead. He’s sucked in his stomach, like he’s holding his breath just to stop himself from cumming. You tap his moving hand to tell him to stop, but he moans out a throaty albeit much more insistent no. Slightly amazed, you watch him shift forward in his seat, half of his ass hanging off the edge, leading his cock closer to you.

It takes you a split second before you cotton on, and in that short interlude, his groans get exponentially louder, so you try not to waste any more time, leaning forward again so that his shaft can rest against your cleavage. It’s clear that your guess on what he wants is correct, because the fist around his cock loosens; instead, he presses his thumb down on his cock, making sure it stays flush against your skin as he starts to roll his hips upward haphazardly.

You’re so new to the sight of this that you don’t even move; you just watch him rut against you, wondering why you hadn’t at least set up a camera so you could have a souvenir when this was all over. Surprisingly, it’s Mark that takes the initiative again; sacrificing personal pleasure, both his palms slip under your arms, pressing against the sides of your breasts and pushing them closer to the center. The friction Donghyuck is creating intensifies when they press up against his cock, and his reaction is immediate; his hips jerk up sharply, cock barely missing your chin.

Donghyuck’s movements are more erratic now, and the flush on his neck has spread upwards to his cheeks. He’s so close, and the only thing you can do at this point is to egg him on.

“That’s so good, baby.” Your whisper is barely audible, but you know he can hear it, even with everything else he’s saying about how much he’s already losing his mind. “You’re doing so well. I bet you look so good when you cum, don’t you? Show mommy how much you want to cum all over me.”

His hips give one last sharp lurch before a drawn out groan rips from his chest; you feel a splash of heat against your neck first. Donghyuck has all but slid off his seat, but he manages to right himself, pulling away from you slightly so he can fist at his cock again to coax his climax to completion. You let out a soft, appreciative noise as you feel his cum hit your skin in quick bursts.

You smile up at him when he slouches back into the chair, breathing labored. Something like a disbelieving laugh escapes him when your gazes lock, and your grin just widens in response.

“Mommy?”

“Sorry. Heat of the moment, and all that,” you shrug. “Too weird?”

“Kind of hot, actually,” he admits. “I’m not mad about it.”

“I agree,” Mark’s voice sounds fresh in the situation considering how absent it had been for the better part of the blowjob. His hands are still against your breasts, now cupping them lightly instead of pushing them together. You lean back slightly, your head bumping into his shoulder.

“It was nice to have an active audience too, actually,” you sigh softly, feeling Mark’s torso shake weakly as he laughs again. “Very helpful at the right time.”

“I just took advantage of a sudden opportunity.” His fingers squeeze at your breasts gently. Donghyuck has caught his breath now, mostly, and he sits up a little straighter. His expression has gone back to looking a bit careful, which you’re disappointed about until he speaks up again.

“So… is that… really it?”

“Why?” You bite back a laugh. “Did you want more, or something?”

“Kind of.”

“That’s good, considering I wasn’t really planning on stopping just yet.” Your hands move up your sides, overlapping with Mark’s. “Looks like you need a break, though.”

“I really don’t,” Donghyuck answers quickly, almost talking over you.

“How quick is your recovery time?”

“I don’t usually have a stopwatch on me when I jack off twice in a row,” he frowns. “I usually don’t jack off twice in a row. Isn’t it bad for your heart, or something?”

“I don’t know. Naver it, if you’re curious,” you suggest.

“No, thanks. Kind of a mood killer.”

“True.” you shrug. “I guess we’ll just have to speed it up a little.”

Your fingers close around Mark’s hand, peeling it away from your breast slowly. He makes a small, disappointed sound but doesn’t resist, even when you let his hand go for a moment before taking his forefinger back into your grasp. Leading it back to your skin, you slide his finger over your nipple, Donghyuck’s release slowly gathering on his digit as you move it upwards. You hear Donghyuck inhale sharply as you bring Mark’s finger up to your mouth, your tongue coming out to meet it so you can lick off the residual cum.

“Is she usually this horny, or, like… what?” Donghyuck sounds both scandalized and amazed.

“This is definitely in the top ten list of horniest things she’s done,” Mark replies. You don’t miss the fact that his words are laced with a soft, affectionate tone. “Right up there with a morning blowjob and offering to eat my ass.”

“You didn’t take the offer?”

“We had a test the next day. Also, she was half-asleep when she offered.”

“I would have done it if you had woken me up after ten minutes like you were supposed to.” You drop your hold on Mark’s hand.

“I could tell you were tired. You needed rest, not another reason to rile me up into having sex four hours before a morning exam.”

You shrug as Donghyuck laughs incredulously. Mark, catching up to your intentions, starts using his thumb to wipe the rest of Donghyuck’s cum off your skin before lifting it back up to your mouth. “The offer still stands,” you say right before your lips wrap around his finger, suckling on it languidly. You’re excessively noisy about it, since that seems to interest Donghyuck.

“I’ll take it up on another day,” Mark promises.

“And the daddy thing,” Donghyuck presses on, even though his eyes are fixed on where your mouth meets Mark’s skin. “Whose idea was that?”

“Who else’s?”

“Noona,” Donghyuck shakes his head. “You’re a hazard to men, do you know that?”

You pull your mouth away, pouting. “That’s not the whole story. You’re telling it wrong.”

“But you did start it,” Mark replies simply, going back to the task of slowly wiping your chest clean.

“I said it as a joke, but it turned you on so much I just kept using it,” you elaborate.

“Fine. So that’s what happened,” he concedes. “But you still started it.”

“But you love it,” you fire back. He chuckles, his finger coming back up to trace the shape of your mouth. The movement of it laces the last of Donghyuck’s cum onto your lips.

“Of course.”

Donghyuck’s cock visibly twitches as he watches you trace your tongue over your lips, slowly licking the cum off of them. He just gapes for a moment, even when you’re finished and smiling up at him again, then gently pats the side of his face like he’s trying to get himself to wake up.

“I’m going to have a heart attack.”

“Story of my life,” Mark responds. You feel his heat leave your back for a moment as he moves to sit back onto the couch, but he reaches out for you again quickly, arms snaking around your waist so he can tug you onto his lap. You lean most of your weight back onto his chest, and his hands move down to unbutton your shorts, thumbs digging into the waistband in an attempt to push them down. “Help me out here, Donghyuck.”

The latter leans forward as instructed, tugging down your shorts by the hem and dragging your underwear along with them. You have to lift yourself to help them slide it off, and when you sit back down, you press back against Mark’s hips, feeling the shape of his cock push up flush against your bare ass. His knees slip between your legs, pushing them apart to give Donghyuck a fair view of your pussy. He takes in a deep breath, as though mentally preparing himself.

“We usually do this in front of a mirror,” Mark explains. “But I think it might turn her on more to know you’re watching.”

“Oh, I’m definitely watching,” Donghyuck promises. “I don’t even know if I have it in me to fucking blink.”

Mark laughs, but you don’t join him; what comes out of you is a slightly needy sound as you feel his fingers press up against your core. He slips one between your folds, tracing lines repeatedly along your slit, and your moans just grow louder with every time he brushes up against your clit. The sounds you’re making reach its first apex when two digits press down a little harder against the nub, rubbing with a fair amount of intensity.

In most other instances, Mark isn’t one for a lot of talk; he’ll play along when he has to, but he isn’t instinctively prone to mouthing off during sex unless you prompt some kind of dialogue. You’re not sure if it’s also because Donghyuck is watching, or because this is just one of the rare times he’s feeling up to it, but even in the haze of your growing pleasure, you feel mildly surprised when he suddenly speaks up.

“What’s going on, __________?” His voice is low, muffled against your shoulder as he speaks in between the kisses he’s pressing against your skin. “Tell me. What’s happening to you right now?”

“Oh my god,” you whimper, feeling him add more pressure against your core. “You’re… you’re rubbing my clit. Your fingers feel so good, fuck.”

He hums softly in approval. “What else?”

Your answer comes slightly delayed as you moan, a longer, slightly more tortured sound as his fingers leave your clit, moving down to toy at your entrance. “I’m getting so wet, holy shit.”

“Wet for who?”

“Fuck,” your voice comes out as an embarrassing, high-pitched whine. “For you, daddy. I’m getting so wet for you.”

“Who else?”

“For Donghyuck.”

You feel Mark’s lips brush against the curve of your neck as he speaks again. “Should we show him?”

You nod, unsure if you can still speak without everything just coming out as a mess, and Mark moves his hand back to your folds, his forefinger and middle finger spreading them. Your legs instinctively follow suit, shifting further apart, and Donghyuck’s mouth goes slack to the point that you can actually see a little bit of drool pooling near the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t even seem to be noticing the fact that he’s growing harder again as the seconds pass, too fixated on Mark’s hand, which has found its way back to your entrance. One digit dips into your core, and you tense around it. He starts to pump it into you, but the movement is too shallow, and your mind is honestly thinking about something else entirely. He knows this, you’re fairly sure, but Mark isn’t usually one to tease, so when he does, you let him get away with it.

Still, you instinctively let out a frustrated noise, and he catches it. His finger slows in you, and your nails bite into his forearms as a tiny form of revenge. He doesn’t even sound perturbed when he speaks again.

“What’s wrong?”

“I want…” You huff, hips moving in a bid for some kind of friction. “I want more.”

“More?”

“Cock,” You demand. “I want your cock, daddy.”

His other arm frees your waist, moving to press his palm against your back. You take it as a signal to lift yourself, and your thighs get an unexpected workout as you wait for him to align himself under you. The same hand leads you back down, and you let out what might be the lewdest moan you’ve made for the day so far, feeling the familiar girth of his cock stretch you in that subtle, delicious way you’ve come to love.

Mark doesn’t even wait for you to settle back down on his lap; you’re only halfway down before he lifts his hips to meet yours, burying himself into you completely. It knocks a little bit of wind out of you, but you won’t deny the fact that his eagerness is a peak turn on at this point. You’re glad that he’s firmly holding your waist, because you don’t know how much strain your legs can take anymore — partly because of practice, but mostly because Mark is funneling all of his energy into thrusting deep into you, which just renders you incapable of focusing on any other task requiring more than minimum effort.

There’s slight movement in front of you; Donghyuck’s hand has found its way back to his cock, and he’s stroking himself to hardness again, his expression half-pained, half-amazed. His eyes keep moving back and forth, once again unsure on what to focus on. For a while, his gaze is fixed on your breasts, which are bouncing slightly with the force of Mark’s thrusts, but for some reason, he ultimately decides to focus on your face. His fingers tighten around his shaft for a moment.

“Are you hard again, baby?” You ask the obvious, but he doesn’t seem to mind, considering the fact that he nods immediately. “Does it turn you on —watching daddy fuck me like this?”

“Jesus.” He runs a hand through his hair, locks sticking out at odd angles. “Jesus Christ.”

“His cock feels so good in me. He’s filling me up so well, baby. Can you see it?”

He nods again. “This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your head tilts back a little when Mark bucks his hips up a little more sharply than before, mouth falling slack to allow a groan to escape; you feel yourself tighten around him, legs twitching in response. You think you hear Donghyuck call out to a deity again. When your head lifts back up, you lock eyes with Donghyuck again, and he speaks before you can think of anything filthier to say.

“Can I fuck your mouth, noona?”

He’s already half-standing before you say yes, and Mark has to slow down for a moment as Donghyuck clambers up to line himself up to your mouth again. He doesn’t even need any prompting anymore, one hand immediately moving to tangle into your hair and keep your head still. He uses the other to guide his cock past your lips, and you notice that he feeds you more length than you had taken in earlier.

Seeing Mark resume his movements is what gives Donghyuck the cue to start, too; he uses his hold in your hair as some kind of leverage, hips rolling forward in slow, controlled thrusts. There’s very little you can do apart from suck with whatever strength you have left and moan intermittently when Mark shifts down a little so he can pump into you at a different, slightly deeper angle. One hand has also found its way back against your pussy, picking up where it left off and toying with your clit. You feel your legs shake slightly with the overstimulation, and it takes a lot of concentration for you to keep yourself from going limp.

In an attempt to stay preoccupied, you look up at Donghyuck. The sight of him feels almost criminal, with his tongue curled up against his upper lip and his brow furrowed with concentration. His thrusts are growing a little more confident, and with this newfound boldness, he pushes more of his cock past your lips. It doesn’t seem to be an accident, either; his hand leads your head forward a little every time, and if you had to guess, you had probably just about a quarter of his length left before you took it all in.

Suddenly, he pulls his hips away, and you gasp out a soft fuck when he frees your mouth, once again unable to focus on much else apart from Mark’s thrusting, which has also increased in pace and intensity. You’re practically praying in swear words, and Donghyuck has to call your name twice before you look back up at him.

“Noona, do you think you can—” He swallows hard, fingers falling away from your hair. “Can you relax for me?”

“I’m getting the dicking down of my life over here,” you rasp between moans. “I don’t think I can.”

“I meant here,” his hand falls down to your jaw before tracing a line down your throat. His forefinger hooks into the ersatz choker you’ve fashioned out of his tie. “I want to see if you can take all of me.”

You nod, not even bothering to tease him about how uncertain he’s acting even when he’s asking for a goddamn deepthroating, and he tugs on the tie, once again bringing your slackened mouth closer to his tip. You feel Mark’s fingers tighten around your hip, and his hips start lifting up harder; the slap of skin on skin is obscenely audible, almost like applause as Donghyuck slides himself past your teeth again.

He doesn’t bother with thrusting anymore; it’s one smooth motion until your mouth is back where it had been a moment ago. You remember he’d asked you to relax, so you try not to give into your instinct to moan over and over, letting your jaw go slack. You know he feels the tension go down because he starts pushing forward again. Your tongue is pressed up flush against his cock, but you can’t move it at all. The rest of Donghyuck’s fingers join the one wrapped around the tie, gripping it a little tighter as he tugs you forward to meet his hips, and you have the good sense to breathe in right before he slips the remaining length into your mouth.

The tip of his cock presses up against the back of your throat, and you feel the expected tears pool in your eyes and streak down your cheeks; you try to focus on Donghyuck’s expression, which is completely blissed out, but it’s a little hazy. When you start feeling lightheaded, you reach out to blindly swat at his thigh. He gets the signal, pulling away right before you can gag, but he doesn’t leave your mouth. Instead, he resumes thrusting, deciding to follow Mark’s quicker, rougher pace.

You’re pretty sure you would be moaning like crazy now, but you can’t even make noise properly. Without any warning, Donghyuck tugs at the tie again, and your throat instinctively loosens when you feel him pushing in deeper again. He stays there, buried in your mouth for what seems like forever, almost growling when he feels you trying to swallow around him.

On his second withdrawal, he pulls out all the way; a long, escalating groan leaves you, and you feel your legs buckle suddenly as your climax hits unexpectedly. Mark’s arms wind around your waist, trying to keep you steady, but his hips move relentlessly, hellbent on keeping you going until your high ends. You collapse against his chest when it does, breathing heavily, your eyes closing halfway. Donghyuck inches closer, though, still lining his cock up against your mouth, and your tongue comes out to greet it, running messily along its side.

“How was it?” Mark asks softly from under you, one hand gently rubbing your stomach.

“Fucking amazing,” Donghyuck replies, watching you mouth at the tip before you suck on it languidly. “You’ve never tried?”

“Not yet.”

“It’s out of this world, hyung.” Your heart swells at the praise, and your mouth becomes a little more enthusiastic. Donghyuck lets out a shaky exhale. “Pro level.”

Mark chuckles, the sound rumbling against your back. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“If you add that to the fact that she basically swears like a pirate, she could really make a career out of it.”

“That is something that’s never going to happen,” Mark squeezes your waist. “Like, over my dead body.”

“I’m just saying it as a hypothetical thing. You know. To drive the compliment home.” You try to interrupt them, but Donghyuck’s shaft is still pressed up against your lips, muffling the sound. He angles his hips away so you can speak. “Sorry. What was that, noona?”

“More,” you breathe out. Donghyuck’s eyebrows fly up as you repeat yourself. “More. Please.”

“Are you sure? You can take a break. Trust me, with what just happened, we’ll still be hard.”

You shake your head, carefully pushing yourself up off Mark’s lap; you’re still fairly wobbly, so he has to keep his hand on your back just to make sure you don’t reel backwards. He looks up at you, wide-eyed, wondering what you’re planning. You motion for him to scoot back near the armrest, and he does so, adjusting himself horizontally once he understands what you want. He reaches out a hand to help you back onto the couch, where you straddle his lap for a moment before you raise yourself, reaching between the two of you to hold onto the base of his shaft. His teeth come out to dig into his lip as you once again take in his cock, biting back a moan.

When you turn back, Donghyuck is still in the same position, watching you; he’s clearly wondering where he fits into this equation. You beckon for him to come closer, and he complies wordlessly. You need to twist your arm a little to reach out for his, leading his fingers to your mouth. Your tongue presses up against his digits, rolling around them slowly for a long, fairly intense minute before you let his wrist go.

He cottons on belatedly, after you’ve leaned back down to press your chest against Mark’s, pushing out your ass. Your fingers grip your cheeks, spreading them slightly, and Donghyuck lets out a strangled noise.

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” you murmur, pressing the side of your face against Mark’s shoulder.

“Are you — I’ve — hold on,” Donghyuck falls silent trying to form the best possible sentence, which is, apparently, “How are you this calm about this?”

“What do you want me to do?” You laugh breathily. “Cry about it?”

“Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” you admit. “So you better stretch me out, or we might have a problem.”

“Yeah, okay, no pressure.” You feel the couch dip a little as he inches forward, and in the next second, his hand finds its way to your ass, helping you push your cheeks apart. “Why hasn’t Mark hyung done this?”

“He’s too scared.”

“That you’ll get hurt?”

“That he’ll cum right away.”

Donghyuck barks out a laugh, and even Mark snorts a little. “What about me? I’m afraid of that too.”

“Yeah, but we already know you’re kind of a quick shot.”

Something cool presses up against your ass, and in the next moment, Donghyuck is sinking the first knuckle of his forefinger into you. You let out a slightly surprised moan that he talks over. “Am not.”

“We’ll see,” your words come out short as you hold your breath in anticipation. Nothing happens, though; his finger stays completely still. “Fuck. You’re really taking your sweet time.”

“You’d kill me if I just stuffed one finger in right away,” he complains. You clench around him unexpectedly, and he pulls his finger away. “Okay, can you not do that first? My finger is just going to get sucked in or something.”

“That was the idea. Hurry up.”

“Are you always this impatient?” More shifting happens behind you, and a moment later, you feel something softer and wetter press up against your entrance. You jerk forward in surprise, but Donghyuck’s hands are keeping your hips steady, allowing him to lap at the puckered flesh. You let out a breathy, incredulous laugh.

“He’s eating my ass,” you inform Mark, who grins up at you. “This is the kind of kinky shit I could have done for you instead of reading Homer.”

“You passed the exam, which is more important than my personal pleasure.”

“Agree to disagree.”

Mark doesn’t reply, allowing you the space to moan as Donghyuck’s tongue lubes you up. When he pulls away, you try to crane your head back in an attempt to catch a glimpse of his lips, which are shiny with saliva. His hand moves towards you again, and he eases his finger in slowly until it’s in entirely. You start to moan a little more loudly once he starts pumping his finger, and Mark slowly starts rolling his hips up again to add to the stimulation. You have to tuck your face into the crook of his neck to soften your groan as Donghyuck slowly pushes another finger in, spreading them out carefully before he resumes pumping.

You think you could pretty much get off like this, and you actually feel pleasure building in your stomach, but it’s a low-burning fire with how slowly they’re taking it. A couple of times, you try to push back against them, but Donghyuck in particular seems to be enjoying taking his sweet time. The third finger enters when the buzz of ecstasy has settled in your nerves, adding a bit of spark to the low thrum coursing through your body. Even Mark doesn’t see the necessity in speeding up yet. You’re breathing deep against his neck, inhaling his scent constantly and getting heady from it, and you don’t even register the fact that your mouth has been half-open for the last ten minutes, just letting low, weak moans pass through. At one point, you actually cum quietly again, even with that horribly slow pace, and no one says anything; Mark just turns his head, pressing a firm kiss against your forehead.

“Please,” your voice is barely audible. “Please. Give me your cock. I’m begging you. I want both of you in me already.”

Donghyuck doesn’t respond, but he does acknowledge your words, slowly tugging his fingers out of you. A moment later, something hard presses up against you, and your moan escalates exponentially once you feel it stretch you. You have to constantly tell yourself not to tense up, but with how desperate you are, you can’t help but feel a little tightly wound, and there’s a small bite of pain when the tip of Donghyuck’s cock makes it past the first ring of muscle.

Mark’s hands leave your waist, lacing into your fingers and squeezing them reassuringly. You’ve gone back to swearing again, your voice more guttural this time, as Donghyuck works his way further into you. His hands are back on your cheeks, trying to help himself in by spreading them slightly as he moves. It takes what feels like an eternity before he bottoms out, and you let out a long, heavy sigh of relief, belatedly realizing you’d been holding your breath this entire time.

Donghyuck’s breathing is pretty loud at this point; his hands are roaming across your back aimlessly. “You’re tight as hell. How does it feel?”

“Fucking incredible,” you whimper. “I feel so fucking full.”

You don’t know if they’d quietly agreed on something, but Mark and Donghyuck start moving at the same time, at the same pace. It’s difficult to decide which feeling to focus on, and you have to shut your eyes to block out anything else that might distract you from the pleasure. Your nails bite into the backs of Mark’s palms, but he doesn’t say anything against it; his breathing is coming out a little more labored too as he thrusts up into you.

Donghyuck loses his reluctance a lot more quickly than Mark, you’ve come to learn; once he’s realized you’re not complaining, he starts speeding up, trying to match Mark’s practiced intensity. You let go of Mark’s hands, letting them move back to their original position as you press your palms against the couch, lifting your torso up slightly. Donghyuck’s hands, on the other hand, find their way to your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“Harder,” you whisper, now fully adjusted to the situation. “Fuck me harder, please, please.”

No one objects at this point, each one of you ultimately more concerned with chasing your highs. Mark adjusts himself under you so that he has more mobility, and his thrusts become sharper in tandem with Donghyuck’s. The moans leaving you are shorter but more frequent, breathless and a little too loud, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. A small part of you is astonished at the idea that twenty-four hours ago, it had never crossed your mind that you’d be naked in between your boyfriend and his best friend, but that small part is ultimately shunted by the knowledge that, twenty-four hours later, you are, in fact, in haphazardly planned threesome with the aforementioned people.

You haven’t said anything for a while now, having lost your own ability to form anything coherent and replacing words with garbled moans. Your expression has probably been dazed for the last few minutes, and when you look down, Mark is staring intently at you. Without any prompt, you lean down, pressing your lips hard against his; his mouth moves against yours, engaging you in a messy and wet kiss that ends with his tongue in your mouth and you suckling on it. Donghyuck’s fingers are digging into your breasts, squeezing them tightly as he briefly interrupts his thrusting to grind his hips up against your ass. You groan in surprise, letting go of Mark’s tongue, and Donghyuck takes this opportunity to tug you up, holding you flush against his chest. His hands move in opposite directions, one hand snaking around your waist tightly, the other dragging up against your cleavage and landing at the base of your throat, tightening a little.

“Want to tell us what’s going on?” He seems to be taking a page out of Mark’s book. “Tell us what’s happening to you.”

The first thing that leaves you is a whimper; you’re pretty sure you’ve been speaking in tongues for the past five minutes or so, and your mind is blanking out. Donghyuck’s fingers squeeze a little more against your throat before loosening again.

“Come on, mommy,” he whispers into your ear, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a second, trying to keep yourself from imploding at that second. “Talk to me. What’s happening to you right now?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss out, feeling his fingers tighten and loosen again. “I’m getting fucked so good, holy shit—”

“Yeah? So good you’re going to cum for us again?”

“Yes, yes, oh my God,” your voice is thick, and it doesn’t help that Donghyuck’s hand squeezes around your throat in increasingly longer intervals. “I’m going to cum so hard. Please — don’t stop, don’t stop—”

You yelp as Mark’s hips jerk up sharply, stopping for a second before he continues; the result is him falling out of sync with Donghyuck, thrusting in just as Donghyuck pulls back. The new rhythm gives you very little pause, and you feel your arousal heightening much more quickly. You know that Mark, at least, is close; his eyes are shut, and he’s starting to moan lowly — usual tells you’ve noticed over time. The timing seems perfect, then, as Donghyuck presses his lips back to your ear.

“Where should we cum, noona?” He murmurs. “It’s your choice this time.”

You’re in no real state to make decisions, so you don’t answer right away. The only prompt you have to do so is Donghyuck’s hand once again closing around your throat, cutting off your air supply for a sweet second before letting you breathe again. You’re so close, you can’t care about logistics, and moving would just ruin everything.

“Cum in me, baby,” you reply hoarsely. “Fuck — please, cum in me.”

Donghyuck gives your throat one last squeeze, a slightly longer one, fingers flexing against your neck as he buries his cock into you with a throaty groan. You feel the heat almost immediately, and your vision whites out around the edges for a moment before he frees you. You use the air that fills your lungs almost immediately, moaning unrestrainedly as you climax once again, pulsing around both of their cocks. Mark moves his hips for your sake, hitting your sweet spot help you ride it out until you come back down. Donghyuck gently pulls his hands away, and your spine suddenly feels like jelly; you collapse into Mark with a soft thud.

A moment of stillness follows, filled only with heavy breathing and the occasionally whispered curse word. The three of you stay that way for five blissful minutes, until Donghyuck’s phone starts ringing obnoxiously from his bag near the door. The call drops and goes to voicemail because he takes his time pulling out, wasting a couple more seconds to watch a bit of his cum dribble out with an appreciative hum. When the phone rings again, you swat him away, and he sprints across the floor to dig it out of his bag. It’s Renjun, you learn when he answers the phone.

You and Mark watch him converse with Renjun naturally, like he hadn’t been deep up your ass a moment ago, talking about an assignment he had forgotten to do research on. When he says he’s going to go online so the two of them can discuss, he shoots the two of you a look, like he’s asking you for permission. Mark mouths for him to stop dawdling and get to work, and Donghyuck pulls a face as he picks his backpack and trudges into his room. You notice he peeks at the two of you surreptitiously just before he closes the door.

“Good job, mommy,” Mark murmurs when Donghyuck is finally out of earshot. He pushes your hair away from your face, tucking locks messily behind your ear to keep them from falling into his face and tickling his nose.

“I could really get used to that name, but I might miss the title he stole from me now and again.”

“I don’t mind either way,” he chuckles. “They both kind of suit you.”

“At least we worked that out,” you hum softly. “I kind of felt bad for him at the beginning.”

“He pouted and got to cum twice. Things work out.”

You stare down at him, confusion suddenly seeping into your expression. “Yeah. But you didn’t. At all.”

“I know. It’s not like I can cum like this,” he laughs. “You have to move off of me. Quick, too, because I’ve been holding it in forever.”

“Why?” You ask, perplexed.

“What do you mean, why? Because I can’t reach your mouth from down here.”

“You don’t have to,” you press a hand to his chest, stopping him from moving up. He meets your eye, now confused too. “I meant what I said. I want you to cum in me.”

Shock crosses his face. “But—”

“Didn’t you want to? The first time?” He nods, and you tilt your head questioningly. “Do you not want to now?”

“I do. I mean — it would be so hot, but I’m just — I mean, are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” You lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose. “It’s okay. I want to feel you.”

He looks up at you, unblinking, assessing your expression like he’s trying to figure out if you’re just pranking him. When he decides you aren’t, he nods, and you dip your head again to press your lips to his. His hands grip your waist once again, and you feel him start to thrust — slowly at first, his speed building gradually. Your hands are pressed to his jaw, thumbs running up against his cheek as you kiss him — adoringly, carefully.

His movements still for a moment, and you think he’s already climaxing, but you only feel your body shift in position; the next thing you know, you’re lying back against the couch, Mark hovering above you. He thrusts in deeper, sharper, and you whine, reaching out to press your hand to the back of his neck and bringing his head down. Your foreheads touch, and there’s very little gap between your lips and his, but you don’t close it. Instead, you keep your gaze locked on his, letting the breath that accompanies your moans wash over his lips as his hips start to move more intensely.

That same expression you know so well starts to form on his face again; his eyes, however, are still uncertain, searching yours, offering you room to back out. You shake your head, but his brow only furrows deeper.

“I’m okay,” you whisper, only loud enough for him to hear. “Please. I want it.”

“You’re sure?” He rasps out. His voice sounds a little broken, like he’s doing all he can to keep himself from tipping over the edge. “I can still… I can still pull out.”

“Don’t,” your voice comes out a little more sharply. “I want all of your cum. Please, daddy.”

“I—” You feel his cock twitch in you, and his eyes start to close again. “God, I’m—”

“Daddy, please,” you urge him, your fingers pressing hard against his sides. “I want it. I want your cum. I want your baby. Please. Fill me up.”

“Fuck—” His hips jerk, and he snaps them forward, burying himself inside you. You feel his release a moment later, and you mewl softly, tightening around him. He doesn’t move this time, and when his eyes open, they immediately shine with concern. You shake your head, tilting your head up to press a reassuring kiss to his lips.

Even with him slowly softening inside you, he doesn’t pull out; you stay in the same position for some time, exchanging light kisses. At one point, he leans in, pressing a kiss much firmer than the others, and when he pulls back, words that break the silence tumble out.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ve never… I’ve never wanted anyone but you. Ever.”

You lie there, stunned at the sudden confession. Mark doesn’t even look remotely abashed or regretful; he just stares down at you, and it doesn’t even look like he’s waiting for a response. You reach up, trapping his face between your palms and inching your head forward to press another deep kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” you murmur against his mouth. “I always will.”

At your words, he tugs you up with him, gathering you into his arms. His lips rest on your forehead, unmoving, hand rubbing your back lightly.

It would have ended an extremely heartfelt moment, if not for the soft cough that had caused you to look up and see Donghyuck standing by his door, now fully clothed and slightly amused.

“So you guys decide to act like a normal, loving, not-kinky couple now?”

#mark smut #haechan smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct smut #mark x you #mark x reader #haechan x you #haechan x reader #mark drabbles #mark imagines #mark scenarios #haechan drabbles #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #nct imagines #mark lee smut #nct drabbles #nct x you #nct scenarios

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ghouljams · 10 months

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Let’s meet Birdie!! The last Darling on our Cowboy!141 docket, our Gemini queen and Goose’s Best Friend.

Gaz looks over the post-it note list Goose handed him before he walked out the door this morning. Her chicken scratch is almost as bad as Soap's and the use of angry faces isn't helping. Is this supposed to say corn meal or worm meal? That is a very high stakes difference. He needs a second opinion.

You bounce a fussy baby on your hip, staring down the large bags if bird seed on the middle shelf. Your class feeder is out, and apparently nobody sells anything that isn’t in bulk. Which you already knew, so youre not sure why you're surprised. "What do you think, Bug?" You ask the kiddo, they very helpfully grab your necklace to chew on. You sigh, alright, fair enough. That's what it's for you suppose. Might as well find someone to help you grab a bag. "Unless you want to carry it," You wiggle kiddo's arm, as if those pudgy little sausages could lift anything.

"'Scuse me," Kiddo babbles excitedly, as you turn towards the voice. You are absolutely stopped by his eyes, deep and beautifully brown, and his smile. He could almost believe in love at first sight. "Could I ask you something?" You never considered yourself the sort of girl that's a sucker for accents but maybe you should rethink that.

"Shoot," you tell him, bouncing Bug higher on your hip with a smile. He holds up a hot pink post-it. Probably a honey-do list. Dammit.

"Can you read any of this?" He asks, letting you take the list from between his fingers. You study it, the handwriting isn't that bad. At least for you, but you read a lot of very messy handwriting in your daily life.

"Looks like alphalfa, seed meal, de-wormer," you squint at the numbers, "you're not going to get any of this at these prices." He takes the list back from you and squints at it, before sighing.

"Dammit Goose."

"Goose?" You nod, that makes sense. If it's who you think it is then he'll be in trouble if he goes too far over budget.

"Alright, well, thanks for the heads up," he shakes his head and turns away.

"I could help," You say quickly, just to see him look at you again, "get you closer to budget, if you want. Me and Bug are pretty persuasive." You wave kiddo's hand and he smiles for you.

"Yeah, you are," he says, a little too soft before he clears his throat, "I mean, yeah, sure, yeah I'd appreciate it. If it's not a bother."

"No bother at all, I gotta find Murphy to grab a bag for me anyway."

"What do you need? I'll get it." He says, looking around you at the bags of birdseed. You point at the one you want and step back to make room for him as he grabs it. His biceps flex as he hauls the bag off the shelf, you wouldn't think it was heavy the way he holds it with one hand. You wonder how those hands would feel on you. "Good?" He asks and you nod quickly. Very good, he looks very good. You try to keep your eyes on his face and not his fitted tee.

Gaz watches you lean over the counter to haggle price, you don't even need to bat those pretty lashes before the man behind the counter is folding. You only needed one thing but you'd derailed your whole trip to help him. You must be some sort of angel. He's sure you have someone waiting on you, pretty thing like you. Plus the baby? Gaz looks down at the chubby little bugger you'd handed him, yep just as cute as you are, you're definitely taken.

He bounces the kid in his arms, showing them how to make hand signs with their stubby baby fingers. Each one makes the kid shriek and giggle, grabbing at his hand with full excitement. While Gaz doesn’t think it’s good practice to leave your kid with a stranger, he’s gotta admit this isn’t even the first baby he’s been handed today. The people in this town are friendly as hell. You’re friendly as hell. Although he hopes that’s because you like him, and not the southern charm.

You pat the counter with a grin, satisfied with the good will you've cashed in. You turn back to Gaz and give him a thumbs up as you walk over. "All good to go," you chirp, poking Bug's stomach to make them giggle. You're feeling pretty good about you haggling, you've still got it! It helps being a town favorite, all you had to do was mention your abysmal teaching salary and deals fell at your feet.

The way you smile at the baby in his arms makes Gaz feel some type of way. Too domestic. It sticks in his ribs when you direct that smile at him. Is he supposed to feel this many butterflies over just a smile? What is it with the Mrs’ in this town, all absolute stunners. "You're a lifesaver," he grins, handing the kiddo back to you.

"Anything for Goose's guy," you tell him, bouncing Bug on your hip to keep them from reaching to be back in Gaz's arms. He snorts, his shock and appall at your statement makes you a little embarrassed to have said anything.

"Goose is dating my mate,” He explains and you feel something squirm in your chest, hope maybe, “I’m single- Kyle.” He corrects himself quickly, “Kyle Garrick, I’m helping the Price’s out for the summer.” Your hands are full, so he shakes one of Bug’s grabby hands. You bite down a laugh.

“My friends call me Birdie,” You tell him, “Also single, if you were wondering.” His smile lights up the whole store, and you hide your smile behind Bug so you don’t look too taken by him.

“Can I help you out to your car?” Kyle asks, you nod and turn toward the exit, enjoying the way he rushes to follow you and smiles like he can’t stop.

#Cowboy!Gaz #Is Bug her kid? Haven't decided yet #they might be her sister's kid #Anyway hello Birdie hello Bug hello end of Gaz's single life #Hey did y'all know Gaz is like barely 6ft? I didn't #Was doing my standard profile research and was like damn king!#you're the short friend huh #he's not even short but still #he's surrounded by monsters #namely Ghost #x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader

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dragonflylady77 · 4 months

Text

This is my contribution to the Harringrove Relay Race! ✨

@harringrove-relay-race

Read it on Ao3

I took the 500 words minimum word limit and blew it out of the water, so... enjoy.

(unbeta'd)

***********

I wanna do everything with you

the coffee shop au x college au x enemies to lovers x there was only one bed fic you never knew you needed... (also, with basketball!)

***********

“Out of the way, pretty boy.”

Steve grits his teeth and presses himself closer to the coffee machine so Hargrove has room to walk past him. Why the guy decided to bring in another box of coffee grounds during rush hour when there are three full bags in the cupboard already, Steve has no idea.

The Californian import is probably doing it to mess around with Steve as usual. Steve sighs as he gets back to making the next drink on his list. As much as he has enjoyed working at The Dolphin Café over the summer, he can’t wait for fall to arrive and classes to start. He won’t have to see Hargrove again after that.

He isn’t sure why Hargrove has it in for him like that, he’s barely talked to the guy since he started. Not on purpose, but they usually have different shifts and the way Hargrove stares at him sometimes when they’re working together makes Steve uneasy. Makes him feel things he’d rather not think about.

Billy Hargrove is hot and he knows it and he seems to loooooove the attention from everyone, regardless of gender. Golden curls, a killer smile, a sculpted chest he keeps exposing by not buttoning up his shirt, no matter how many times their manager reminds him he should and jeans so tight they look painted on. Yeah, the guy is the full package.

Too bad the full package is also arrogant as fuck and determined to get on Steve’s last nerve every shift. So Steve takes deep breaths and smiles even when he wants to scream, and he focuses on filling orders and the end of summer.

He is counting the days until he can see Robin again, once she’s back from her trip to Germany. He’s really missed his best friend all summer and he knows there is no way his dad would have agreed to their deal without her.

Steve will always be grateful to Robin for helping him craft a proposition Richard Harrington agreed on. They’d even got a lawyer involved and his father had signed off on it, promising he’d pay Steve an allowance while he’s in college if he managed to get accepted and hold a job all summer beforehand.

Steve knows how lucky he is to have gotten in, even if it’s on a basketball scholarship. The look on his father’s face had been worth all the extra work he’d put in. The knowledge Richard Harrington has lost this particular battle against his only son, whom he deems a complete idiot, is the cherry on top.

Now Steve just needs to survive the last couple of weeks at the coffee shop, with Hargrove breathing down his neck at every opportunity. Then he’ll be free, and in college, and he can hang out with Robin again.

***

“Tell me more about this guy,” Robin asks the second she gets in his car, her bags filling the backseat and the trunk of the Beamer.

Steve instantly regrets offering her a ride to her dorm. It’s a long drive back to Chicago and his last shift is still fresh in his mind. Well, what happened when he’d clocked out for the last time anyway. Steve said goodbye to the manager who reminded him he could still come back for weekend shifts. Steve once again declined his offer and told him he was done with the Dolphin Café, as staff anyway. Hargrove was behind the counter and stared at him for the duration of that entire conversation, his eyes full of what looked like hurt. Steve glanced away and walked out without a word.

“You know as much as I do already, why must we spend more time on the subject?” Steve knows he’s whining but fuck, it’s not enough that he spent all summer working with the guy, now his best friend wants to talk about him as well? Steve is so fucking glad he never told her about the dreams. No one, EVER, needs to find out about those.

“Because, dingus,” Robin starts, cutting him that look of hers that means she knows something Steve doesn’t. It’s a look he’s really familiar with by now.

He sighs. “What? Spit it out, Rob. It’s a long drive and I’d rather talk about something else.”

Robin snorts and Steve glares.

“The dingus doth protest too much, methinks,” she says and Steve groans.

"Stop it."

“Oh come on, Steve. From everything you’ve told me about this guy, it’s clear to me you have a crush on him and I th—”

“What? What the fuck, Robin?” Steve swerves a bit from the surprise but manages to keep the car in the appropriate lane. “Leaving aside the fact that I am, you know, straight, how exactly did you get to that conclusion?”

“Really? Did you not hear yourself over the past three months? Hargrove this, and Hargrove that, you haven't stopped talking about him.”

“Because he’s been a pain in my ass since the day he started at work! He’s constantly in my face, calling me names and making a nuisance of himself.” Steve is getting worked up, because why can’t Robin see the problem? He takes a few calming breaths, and focuses on the road.

“He’s pulling your pigtails, dingus.”

“What? No! He hates me, and I didn’t even do anything.”

Robin shakes her head and Steve doesn’t need to sneak a glance her way to know she’s rolling her eyes.

“Steve…”

“No.” There is no way. Is there?

“Fine. Enjoy staying in Egypt, I heard it’s nice this time of year.”

“Whatever.”

Steve is glad that Robin drops it then and moves on to talking about the classes she is gonna be taking when college starts.

***

Billy is stacking the latest batch of lemon blueberry muffins on the display stand when he hears a familiar voice. He glances up to scan the sparse Sunday afternoon crowd and spots Harrington walking towards one of the booths in the back.

He’s chatting animatedly with a girl Billy hasn’t seen before. She’s got light brown hair and big eyes and talks with her hands a lot. Harrington must have said something stupid because the girl punches him in the shoulder and he laughs it off, while rubbing the spot she hit. Their behavior gives off a sibling vibe, which does nothing to quell the longing in Billy’s chest.

They sit on opposite sides and the girl looks up at the menu on the big boards behind the counter. Harrington sneaks a few glances around and Billy looks away before they make eye contact.

It’s a surprise to see Harrington again after he announced his departure a week ago. Billy is still getting over the feeling of betrayal upon finding out his secret crush was leaving, as he was walking out the door.

He thought he’d have more time to try to turn the stupid rivalry into some kind of friendship. But he always seems to rub Harrington the wrong way, no matter what he says. From the day Billy started at The Dolphin Café at the end of July, he’d tried to make friends but Harrington wanted no bar of it.

Billy finishes placing the last muffin on the stand and puts the dome cover on top in time for Harrington’s friend to come up to the counter to order.

“Hello, welcome to the Dolphin Café. What can I get you?” he smiles as he asks and the girl smiles back, her eyes dropping to his name tag for a second.

“Hey Billy. I’m Robin. The best friend. Can I get two of those delicious looking muffins please, a cappuccino and a mocha with four sugars and extra whipped cream.”

“Ah, yes, the Harrington special. Coming right up.”

The girl snorts and Billy chances a glance in Harrington’s way. He is reclining in his booth, glaring at them, and looks away the second Billy’s eyes meet his.

“Is that an actual item on the menu or a name you made up just for him?” she asks, leaning her elbows on the counter.

Billy feels his face warm up and he turns towards the coffee machine, praying Robin can’t tell he’s blushing. He busies himself making the drinks she ordered, mulling over his answer before things get too weird.

“Um…” He shrugs, sprinkling cinnamon on her cappuccino. “I mean, I did ask Hop to add it to the menu as a legacy item since Steve left, but he declined.”

“Aw, my poor dingus is not special enough to make the menu. He’ll be heartbroken.” The smirk on her face and the tone in her voice belie her words and it’s Billy’s turn to snort.

“Pretty sure he hated this place so…” Billy places the drinks on a tray, with the muffins Robin ordered. “You go sit down, I’ll bring them over.”

“Thanks, Billy.”

Billy follows Robin back to the booth and carefully unloads the contents of the tray on the table. He manages to not look at Harrington while he does but he can feel him watching his every move. It’s unsettling and rekindles the fire in Billy’s chest.

Fuck.

“Thanks.” The frosty clipped tone does things that it shouldn’t to Billy’s insides and he focuses on Robin instead.

“Enjoy. Sing out if you need anything else.”

“Thank Billy,” she says again with a grin.

With a nod, Billy leaves, stopping to clear a table and wipe it clean on his way back to the counter. He needs a smoke but it’s a while yet until his break. A loud group walks in and he is happy to be kept busy. He still notices when Harrington and Robin leave and wonders if that was the last time he’s ever gonna see him.

***

A week later, Billy walks into the gym for the first basketball practice. His advisor was surprised he’d picked a sport as an elective, he’s an English Lit major after all. Makes Billy want to cackle really. Seems people either think he’s a meathead and want him for his body, or they’re shocked to learn there’s more to books and case studies in his life.

He steps around the corner in the changing room and a familiar voice stops him in his tracks. Keeping his eyes on the locker numbers, he locates his and heads over, dumping his gym bag on the bench in front of his assigned locker.

“Hargrove?” Harrington’s voice reaches him, surprise and dismay thick in his tone. “What the fuck?”

Billy glances at him and nods once in acknowledgment before focusing on getting changed. He can hear Harrington muttering about him to the guy he’s standing with a few feet away but he manages to tune them out. Force of habit, really. Growing up with Neil Hargrove has taught him not to react and he has become really good at it.

The coach walks in and sends them into the gym to do some laps as a warm up. After some drills to see where they’re at, he splits them into two teams. Billy plays skins, and to his great delight, Harrington ends up on the opposing team.

They’re both point guards which means Billy can get up close to try and stop Harrington when he gets the ball. He is thrilled to discover that Harrington is as competitive as he is on the court, even if he seems to have trouble staying upright when Billy crashes into him to steal the ball.

Billy offers Harrington a hand, half surprised when the other guy takes it, and he leans down close, the pendant around his neck nearly touching Harrington’s chin.

“You were moving your feet. Plant them next time, draw a charge!” He lets go of Harrington’s hand, his fingers tingling from the contact and steps over him to go back to his side of the court as they reset the play. He feels Harrington’s eyes on his back as he walks away but forces himself to look straight ahead, trying to get his breathing under control.

Fuck, that was exhilarating. Billy knows he needs to be careful how close he gets to Harrington because basketball shorts don’t hide much and he doesn’t need the embarrassment or the rumors that would follow him like the plague.

Once training is over, he showers in a corner as fast as he can and gets out of there, glancing at Harrington on his way out. He nearly walks into the door jamb when he clocks the hair on the guy’s chest and manages to dress in record time, despite the semi he’s now sporting.

Tight jeans conceal anything, thank fuck for small mercies. He shoves his gym clothes in his bag and hightails it out of there like hellhounds are on his tracks.

Once in his car, he allows himself to breathe, closing his eyes and letting himself remember the literal fur covering Harrington’s fucking chest. He’d give pretty much anything to run his fingers through that.

Billy groans, pressing his palm on his crotch to relieve some of the pressure and turns the engine on. He’s got a shift at the Dolphin in ten minutes and he can’t afford to be late. Jerking off to the memories of Harrington naked in the shower will have to wait.

***

“One Harrington special!” Robin announces as she puts down Steve’s drink on the table, before flopping on the chair across from him.

“Shhhh, Robin, we’re in a library!” Steve whispers and Robin rolls her eyes.

“No one cares, dingus.”

Steve takes a sip of his coffee, watching Robin get her laptop out of her bag. He frowns. “What did you call my drink just now?”

“Oh, um, the Harrington special. That’s what Billy called it the other day when we were at the coffee shop.”

“I’m sorry. Billy?” Steve stares at her and she shrugs. “Robin, why are you on a first name basis with that guy?”

“Cos he’s nice? And funny? And, like, really really clever?”

“What. The. Fuck?” Steve has no words. He can’t comprehend the betrayal twisting in his gut right now.

Robin sighs. “He’s in my Romantic Poetry class and also my Literature of the Commonwealth class. He’s also in my Creative Writing Workshop class and we may or may not be working on a project together. Don’t be mad.”

“Robin. I… you… what?”

“See, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I know you’d be weird about it.”

“Only because you seem to have swapped me for my fucking nemesis.”

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking dramatic. You’ve been hating the guy for months for no reason.”

“Robin! I told you what he did. How he was with me. All summer when I worked at the Dolphin! If anything, he’s the one who hates me.”

Robin gives him that look that says he’s being a giant whiny baby (her words) and Steve sits back in his chair, sipping his coffee. He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Robin won’t listen or take him seriously anyway.

“Steve, let me ask you this,” Robin starts, and he can tell she’s trying to be patient with him. “Why would a guy who hates you name a drink after you?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t know, okay. I don’t know how his brain works, or why he called me pretty boy and sweetheart for three months straight. Makes no sense to me.”

“Really?”

Okay now she’s giving him the ‘oh can you so fucking dense’ look and Steve decides enough is enough.

“You know what, whatever. I’m gonna go.” He closes his laptop and starts gathering his notes. His statistics assignment can wait. He already got an extension anyway. “Need to pack for my trip. We’re leaving at the crack of dawn tomorrow and I need to go to bed early or I’ll miss the bus.”

“Ah yes, the basketball trip. Billy mentioned it at our study session last night.”

“Last night? That’s why you blew me off for movie night?” Steve is getting more pissed off by the minute. He closes his backpack and grabs his coffee, though he’s not sure he wants to drink it anymore.

“Did you miss the part where I said we are working on a group project for a class?” Robin asks, leaning forward on her elbows, one eyebrow raised. He hates that she can do the eyebrow thing and he can’t.

“He better keep his hands to himself or I will punch him.”

“Yeah well, you can relax with your macho bullshit, cos he knows about me not liking boys.”

“You told him?”

“It came up,” Robin replies, mysterious as ever.

“Fine. Whatever. You know what? Keep your little secret rendez-vous and your brainiacs study sessions that I will never understand. I’ll see you when I get back, unless Hargrove kills me while we’re away.”

He leaves the library in a huff, Robin’s cackle following him out the door.

The next morning, Steve gets to the bus with two minutes to spare. He shoves his bag in the luggage compartment before stepping onto the bus, running a hand through his hair to try and tame it. Of course he slept through his stupid alarm and now he owes Robin, again, because she called him to check he was awake.

He spots Hargrove at the back of the bus, with Tommy Hagan and Jason Carver, so he sits at the front and keeps his head turned towards the window.

They get to the school where they’re playing that afternoon and Coach gets them to run drills and warm-ups for a couple of hours. Steve manages to stay away from Hargrove as much as possible, though Hargrove seems to have dialed down the hostilities and only shoves him once.

Soon enough it’s time for the game and they get stuck into it, the instructions yelled by Coach taking precedence over everything else.

It’s a hard fought battle, the opposition is really good, but their team prevails at the last moment, thanks to Hargrove.

Finally, it’s over, Steve is exhausted but happy. He ends up next to Hargrove for the team huddle and for once he doesn’t mind being this close. They’re all riding the high of beating a good team and it’s a heady feeling.

After they’ve all showered and filed back onto the bus, they make their way to the motel. Once they park there, Coach announces that due to budget issues, they’ve had to reduce the number of rooms they could book and they’re all gonna have to bunk with each other.

A collective groan travels down the length of the bus at the revelation. Steve barely pays attention. He doesn’t care who he gets told to bunk with as long as it’s not Hargrove, and he’s pretty sure the other guy feels the same and will ask to stay with Tommy or Carver.

“Right, lads, me and Ms Ross decided that the easiest and most fair way was to lump you alphabetically.”

When Steve hears that, he knows he’s fucked. Because he knows the names of every guy on the team and he’ll either be bunking with Tommy, who he hasn’t talked to since ninth grade, or Hargrove.

Fuck.

Sure enough, a moment later, Coach says Hargrove’s name then his, and a room number. They get off the bus in pairs and grab their bags, with a reminder that they’re expected to be back on the bus at 8am the next morning.

In the lobby, most of the guys on the team arrange to meet at the diner across the road once they’ve dumped their bags in their rooms. Ignoring the noise, Steve gets the key from the front desk and heads down to room 7.

He gets into the room and stops in his tracks when he sees the bed. As in, singular.

One bed.

It’s a big bed, but it’s only one bed.

Fuck.

With a sigh, Steve drops his bag at his feet and he’s about to turn around to go back to the desk to demand a different room when he hears footsteps behind him. Clearly his day can get worse.

“Hey, Harrington,” Hargrove says as he enters the room, “what are you doing standing here in the dark?” He flicks the lights on and drops his bag on the desk to the side.

Steve watches as he takes in the large bed taking most of the space. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“It’s okay.” Hargrove shrugs then unzips his bag and starts looking through it for something.

Steve turns his head to look at him. “It’s okay? Nothing about this is okay.”

“Oh my god, dude. Don’t freak out because we need to share a bed. Jesus. We can put some pillows down the middle of the mattress if you’re that stressed about it.”

“I’m not stressed about it!” Steve is quick to say, earning himself a look of disbelief from Hargrove.

“Whatever. You going to the diner with the rest of the team?” Hargrove asks as he heads to the ensuite, holding some clothes and his toiletry bag.

“No, I… I’m not hungry.”

“Suit yourself.” The door shuts with a soft click and Steve closes his eyes. He needs to talk to Robin but he knows she is out on a date with some girl she met at work.

Once Hargrove has left the room to get dinner, Steve eats a protein bar he found in his bag then gets ready for bed.

He slips between the covers, ready to leave this day behind. He makes a point to not pile pillows between the two sides of the bed. No need to give Hargrove more ammunition.

***

Billy sighs and checks his watch again. He’s been staring at the ceiling for two hours and is no closer to falling asleep than he was when he got back to the room. Less, even. Because he was sleepy after dinner and not in a mood to get drunk with his teammates, on beer purchased for them by Carver’s boyfriend, the only one old enough to legally buy alcohol.

Billy was surprised to see no pillows separating the two sides of the bed when he walked in. Even more surprised to find Steve fast asleep.

He gives up and sits up, hazarding a glance at Steve. He’s lying on his side, the light coming from the crack in the curtains giving a golden shine to his hair. He looks peaceful and soft and Billy would love nothing more than to cuddle up to him and feel his arms around his back.

He runs through his conversation with Robin for the four hundredth time since it happened three days ago. He was surprised to see her in three of his classes but glad they got paired up for the Creative Writing assignment. From the interaction he had with her at the Dolphin last week, she seemed quick and witty and that hunch had proved right. She’d also clocked him as queer faster than anyone beside Heather ever had and her coming out to him had reassured him immensely.

He isn’t a hundred percent on board with her assessment of Steve’s feelings towards him though. That seems a bit hard to swallow considering the past three months, but she is Steve’s best friend, so Billy figures she might know what she’s talking about.

He’s about to turn the side lamp on and grab his book since he can’t fucking sleep when Steve lets out a whimper. Frozen on the spot, Billy listens, in case Steve is having some kind of nightmare he’ll need to wake him up from (Robin mentioned something about that).

But then the guy starts moaning, a low raspy sound, that causes Billy’s ears to heat up as his sweatpants get a bit tight in the crotch. Billy hears the rustling of the bedding, and Steve doing some kind of squirming that has Billy immediately on edge.

It only gets worse when Steve starts muttering. It’s not really words at first, and Billy rolls over so he’s closer, and can hear properly. He regrets it a minute later.

“P-please… Don’t stop, please,” Steve mutters and Billy bites his fist to stop from making a sound.

This is not happening…

Billy can’t believe he has to lie there silently while Steve is having a fucking sex dream. He moves away and sits on the edge of the bed, his back to Steve, hands balled into fists at his sides, willing his dick to go down because this is beyond pathetic. Yes, he has a crush on the guy, but getting off to his sex dream feels one step too far.

Yet, Steve keeps making goddamn sex noises, and apparently willing whoever he’s dreaming about to keep doing whatever they’re doing to him in his mind and Billy is two seconds away from having a cold shower at three in the morning when suddenly he hears his name.

“Billy… Billy, please…”

Oh fuck.

His fingers dig into his thighs with the effort it takes to not touch his dick and get some relief. He can’t breathe, there is no air in the room, only Steve’s moans and whimpers and his desperate pleas.

And Billy knows it doesn’t mean anything, okay? He knows that Steve can’t stand the sight of him, no matter what Robin said the other night. And there’s nothing he can do about it. Maybe he’s just bad at flirting with a guy he actually cares about. Maybe there’s just something about him that Steve just can’t stand and it’s not his fault. But that doesn’t stop his brain from sending images of what he could be doing to Steve with his fingers and his mouth and, fuck, he really needs to stop thinking about that or he’s gonna blow his load in his pants like a fucking twelve year old.

He doesn’t remember ever being so hard as he is in that moment, when Steve’s breath quickens and he keeps saying Billy’s name over and over and over.

Billy needs to do something, either pretend to sleep or lock himself in the bathroom, because there is no way Steve will react favorably once he’s awake. He’ll either pretend it didn’t happen or be angry at Billy for no reason, as usual.

Unable to listen any longer, he races to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and flicking the lock before he turns the shower on to cover any noise he’s about to make. Leaning against the counter with one hand, he reaches inside his pants and wraps his fingers around his cock, hissing at the contact.

He is barely aware of the movements of his hand, his mind still in the room, in that bed, imagining a hand that’s not his touching him instead. He knows he won’t last long because he’s too keyed up from listening to Steve. He squeezes the head of his cock, and groans at the feeling, his knuckles turning white on the counter.

Billy closes his eyes, pretending Steve is there with him. He can almost feel Steve’s lips on his neck, Steve’s body against his as he jerks him off… The visual is so clear, so much what he craves, and he’s so close now, he can almost taste his orgasm.

“Billy?”

Steve’s voice reaches him through the door and wraps around him and he comes with a grunt he can’t silence, making a mess in his underwear. Panting and trying to catch his breath before his legs give out, he washes his hands and wishes he’d have taken the time to get undressed and step into the shower.

Steve is knocking on the door now. “Are you done? Dude, I need to use the bathroom.”

“Gimme a minute!” Billy’s voice sounds wrecked even to his own ears and with the shower going. He shuts the water off and unlocks the door, steeling himself to face Steve before he opens the door.

Steve’s hair is a mess and Billy forces his eyes to a spot to the side of Steve’s shoulder as he pushes past him and into the room.

“Billy?” Steve’s voice stops him in his tracks and he turns around slowly, taking in Steve who’s standing in the doorway, illuminated from behind by the light in the bathroom. Billy doesn’t remember Steve using his actual name before tonight, he’s always called him Hargrove.

“Yeah?” Billy asks softly. He’s still feeling wired from the whole thing and doesn’t have it in him to maintain the usual bravado in front of Steve. He is not sure what to think when Steve steps closer until he’s standing a foot away. Billy makes sure to keep his eyes up, his gaze following the trail of beauty spots on Steve’s shoulder and up his neck.

He is not so out of it that he doesn’t notice Steve’s eyes tracking down then back up, snagging somewhere on Billy’s naked chest then his mouth before Steve locks eyes with him. The warm spot in Billy’s gut starts boiling.

“Um, Robin said… um Robin has this theory, and… and I think she might be right.”

Billy sighs. He just wants to clean up and get into bed but Steve has never looked at him that way before so his curiosity gets the better of him. “What theory?”

“About me and how I’m not actually, you know… straight.”

“Okay…” Bill isn’t sure what to say. He’s not exactly surprised, in light of the dream Steve was having not that long ago.

“She said something else too.”

“Oh?”

Steve moves forward and he’s so close now that Billy can feel the heat from his body. He doesn’t know where to look or what to think. He takes a deep breath to calm down, and realizes his mistake when all he can smell is Steve and it’s overwhelming.

“You don’t hate me, do you?” Steve asks, his tone sounding more assured now. “You know, Robin reckons you have a crush on me.”

Billy chokes back a moan and bites his lip. Steve’s eyes immediately zero in on that and Billy shudders.

“What are you doing, pretty boy?” Billy whispers, his heart in his throat.

“What feels right,” Steve whispers back, his face so close he’s all Billy can see. “Stop me if you don’t wa—”

Billy breaches the gap and slants his lips onto Steve’s, groaning when Steve tangles both of his in Billy’s curls to pull him closer. Steve’s lips are softer than Billy imagined and he grabs Steve by the waist, using Steve’s needy moan to slide his tongue in Steve’s mouth.

The kiss goes on, hands grabbing and pulling, as they stumble backwards towards the bathroom, bodies pressed close from shoulder to toe.

“Fuck meeee…” Billy whispers when they break to breathe, blinking to adjust to the light. He feels like he’s seen God and can’t get enough of Steve’s tongue in his mouth.

“Maybe later,” Steve replies with a grin, and Billy digs his fingers into Steve’s hips at the thought.

“Steve…”

“You know,” Steve starts, moving away to turn the shower on, his eyes never leaving Billy’s even when he takes his shirt off and drops it on the floor, “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say my name.”

“Yeah?” Billy stares as Steve walks back to where he’s standing by the countertop, his eyes straying to Steve’s waistband hanging low on his hips before moving back up.

“Yeah…” Steve stops in front of him. “I wonder how loud I can make you say it…”

Billy gasps then loses the ability to make words when Steve drops his pants. Then Steve hooks his fingers in the waistband of Billy’s sweatpants, a question in the tilt of his head. Billy nods in agreement, and Steve slides his hands around then down, over the curve of his ass, fingers splayed, before he pulls Billy’s pants and underwear down.

“Wanna shower with me?” Steve asks and that shakes Billy out of his trance.

He steps out of his clothes and slides his hands around Steve’s waist, pulling him up, and laughs happily when Steve curses even as he wraps his arms and legs around him.

“Baby, I wanna do everything with you.”

He steps under the warm spray with his precious cargo, pressing him into the wall and finding his mouth again.

*****

Please look forward to the lovely/wonderful/amazing work from the next contributor, @harringrovest.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #dragonflylady77 #harringrove relay race #coffee shop au #college au #enemies to lovers #there was only one bed #all of the tropes #because why not

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hxney-lemcn · 1 year

Text

Falling For U— Josuke Higashikata x gn! reader

summery: Seeing things that others didn't was a normal part of your day. Until you find a group of delinquents that end up seeing your own stand. Who knew that you'd end up falling for one in particular.

tw: mentions death (reader can see ghosts)

a/n: Guys please I need more Josuke fics. More ace spec reader Josuke fics too. I'm finding it harder to write right now, but I somehow managed to get this out. (So please excuse the shitty transitions).

wc: 5.1k

Master List

It was another regular day. Focusing on school work while trying to ignore the stares and whispering of the beings around me. I’ve been able to see these figures for as long as I can remember. I learned quickly to keep my mouth shut about them when I got in trouble for scaring not only my classmates when I was 6, but my parents as well. I also learned that these beings were ghosts, and I was somehow able to communicate with them.

A being that stood out seemed to come at will. They’d help me communicate with the ghosts when I couldn’t do it outright. The weird part being that they didn’t look like any of the other ghosts. It was a translucent misty blue being that was wearing a dark gray suit along with a white skull mask.

I tapped my pencil to my notebook to the tune that’s been playing in my head on repeat at the moment. My eyes drifted from the teacher to my old pet that laid next to my desk. There were some perks to my ability, and that was getting to see my pets that have passed away. It always felt bittersweet to see them still following me in their afterlife. If only I could still pet them…

My thoughts halted when the bell rang. I put my stuff in my bag as quickly as I could, ready to finally go home. I walked with my friends to the gate and we all shared our goodbyes, going our separate ways. Feeling hungry, I decided to stop at a cafe that was on my way home. Just a quick in and out, it’s not like I was going there to hang out. But entering the cafe, it held a nice atmosphere that made me want to just…rest there for a bit. Would it be weird for me to eat here alone?

I tensed as I noticed a group of students in the familiar uniform. Yeah never mind. I didn’t really know them, one of them was in my class and I knew they were friends. I mean I’ve heard rumors about them, how they’re delinquents, but everyone knew Koichi was a top notch student so I took all the information with a grain of salt.

After giving my order and paying, I took a seat next to the pick up counter. I stared out the window closest to me, waiting to hear my name called. Suddenly, that familiar blue mist appeared and I kept my gaze to where the window would be. I didn’t want people to think I was crazy. Something in my being told me that it’s name was GhostBuster, but I found the name too humorous to take seriously.

‘Someone wants to know if their child is okay,’ The figure signed in my line of sight. My grandma taught me sign language at a young age and I was fascinated with it. But no one else really knew how to speak in sign around me so I’d like to teach my friends small phrases if they were interested enough. GhostBuster, I suppose I will call the figure, also seemed to know sign, as they spoke to me with it first. It was a great way to communicate without seeming crazy since most of the signs could be done against a table.

‘Give me the information and I will look into them,’ I signed back against the table. Since I was able to see the dead, from a young age I was bombarded with pleas and wishes for me to pass on messages to their loved ones or to commit acts of revenge for them. I didn’t want to do either, as having a total stranger bring up their deceased loved one didn’t seem like a good decision. But if they wanted me to keep them updated about whatever, I didn’t mind going to the library and doing some research.

My name was called and I couldn’t help but feel eyes follow me. After I grabbed my bag of food, I ducked my head down and walked out.

After that day I couldn’t help but feel like I was being watched constantly, and this time it was by someone living. And I couldn’t help but notice that I’ve been seeing Koichi and his friends around more often. I ignored it though, I mean Koichi was in my class so I was obviously going to see that friend group a bit. But I noticed their eyes follow me and I didn’t like it one bit.

I always tried to keep to myself. A total wallflower if you will. I didn’t like standing out. I had my little group of friends I had at school and I stuck to my homework and hobbies after, well as long as I wasn’t working. It was easy to notice them, as no one really looks at me twice, and their stares made my skin prick with anxiety. Did I do something wrong? Do I look weird? Did I do something to upset them? Are they going to beat me up?

I shook the thought out of my head. Yeah I’ve heard rumors of them beating up kids without lifting a finger, but those stories were so far-fetched it was hard to believe. GhostBuster appeared once more during lunch, and those damned stares started to burn. I tried to look at them from the corner of my eye, but I could only catch one of them. Josuke, the most infamous one out of the group, but he wasn’t looking at me…he was looking at GhostBuster. The misty being disappeared as I tensed up. Could they see them? The being that’s been with me since forever? Was that what they were looking for everytime I passed by? Am I in danger now that they have seen it?

I shifted my focus back on my friends, trying to tune out the ringing in my ears. I’ve always thought I was alone, that I was the only one with strange abilities…did they have them too? Is that where all the crazy rumors have been coming from? It would make a bit more sense.

The bell ringing signaling the end of the day brought little relief. I just wanted to go home and destress from everything. Maybe play some video games or watch some t.v. I scurried out of class, head down and sticking to the walls. I didn’t even meet my friends, I was too on edge at the moment.

“Hey!” I glanced up, not sure if that was directed towards me. I froze when I saw Josuke, Koichi, and Okuyasu. I glanced behind me, just in case they were calling for someone else, but I knew that wasn’t the case due to their eyes boring holes into me.

“Wanna go to St. Gentleman’s with us?” Josuke asked, a nonchalant look on his face.

I felt confused, looking around once more just to double check before pointing to myself, “Me?”

“Yeah, who else?” Okuyasu asked with a condescending look (it wasn’t exactly mean, more confused than anything).

I shrugged, shoulders rising in tension, “I don’t know.” I was completely out of my element.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna,” Josuke shrugged, hands in his pockets.

I stared at the three for a second not sure what to say, but for some reason I found myself agreeing. Okuyasu and Josuke led while Koichi strayed behind, next to me.

“I hope we didn’t scare you,” The short boy spoke up. “We just haven’t had many good experiences with other stand users.”

My face scrunched in confusion and I turned to look at him, “Stand users?”

“Yeah,” Koichi nodded. “You know, that thing that was…talking to you during lunch.”

My gaze drifted towards the glassy eyes of the dead that turned to stare at our strange group in curiosity. I looked back at Koichi, “A lot of people try to talk to me. Well…people that others can’t see.”

It was Koichi’s turn to look at me confused, but before he could ask anything, we arrived at St. Gentlemens. We all put our orders in before sitting at a table for four. Koichi finally asked about these people but first had to catch the other two up in our previous conversation.

“Ghosts,” I clarified finally as they all stared at me intently. “I can see ghosts, can you see them too?” I glanced over Josuke’s shoulder, a woman in an old 50’s looking waitress uniform stood behind him, a tired smile worked its way on her face when we made eye contact.

“Nah,” Josuke shrugged, trying to seem chill, but he glanced over his shoulder and met my eyes shakily. “There’s one right behind him isn’t there?”

I smiled slightly, “She seems nice.” Suddenly, my supposed stand came out and listened as the woman whispered to it. It then approached me and signed what she said.

“What’s it doing?” Okuyasu asked. I forgot they were there. All their eyes fell onto my stand and I couldn’t help but feel flustered at what the old waitress was implying.

“Telling me what she said,” I replied, trying to casually glance out the window.

“What did she say?” Josuke joined, curiosity working into his expression.

I felt myself slightly fluster, looking towards the boy next to me with shining blue eyes and that unique pompadour. I opened my mouth but I hesitated, it was kinda embarrassing, “...she said…w-we’d make a cute couple.”

I can admit when someone was attractive, and Josuke fit that bill to a T, if the hordes of fangirls I had to pass in the hallways didn’t say anything. But I never talked to him before and I didn’t know him well enough to even think of him romantically.

Okuyasu let out an obnoxious laugh and Koichi even seemed like he couldn’t hold his chuckles in as Josuke burned bright red.

“What do your stands do?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. Okuyasu showed his off first, going on and on about its abilities and the many stories of how it saved him to mundane things it helped him with. Then Koichi showed his stand off. Well…all three of them that is. He also explained his own abilities, but kept it sweet and short.

Finally, Josuke had recovered and told me all about his stand. Showing it off and even demonstrating its powers on a cut I got earlier that morning from my pet. I stared in awe, the cut seemingly vanished in thin air.

After that, I seemed to have grown closer to the small group of friends. They invited me into group activities more often and both of our friend groups seemed to have joined together, at least for lunch.

Though I was growing close to one person in particular. Of course that person was going to be Josuke. It didn’t help that those words that the ghost said were ingrained in my head now. Josuke would hang out with me a bit more than the others and the first thought was ‘is he interested in me?’, but I would quickly shake the thought away. I was just looking into everything a bit too hard now. It didn’t help that when Josuke would pull me away to do something, the others would laugh behind us.

Not to mention that our conversations have been steering towards dating and romantic topics in general. I wish my heart didn’t beat faster when he watched me intently when I explained how I felt about relationships. How I would want to take it slow but I didn’t really have any experience so I wasn’t sure how all that stuff works anyways. My hopeless romantic side was showing greatly as I would make scenarios of what may happen that day, or what it would be like to hold him/be held.

He also told me how he was looking for the one, and didn’t really want any flings. I agreed with him and our values on romantic relationships seemed to be shared. Which only made me seem to fall further for him, as I didn’t expect someone to share the same beliefs. Yes you heard me correctly, I can’t deny it anymore, I’ve fully fallen for him. I wouldn’t say love, but I haven’t had a crush this strong before.

“Are you doing anything for Valentine's day?” My friend asked me as we stood outside before school.

“Nah,” I shook my head, shifting my bag on my shoulder to a comfier position.

“Really?” They asked skeptically. “Nothing with Josuke?”

I stared at them, feeling myself flustered, “What would I be doing with Josuke?”

They raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “Confessing to him.”

I tensed and my face felt like it was on fire, “No way. It’s not like he likes me like that anyways.”

Before my friend could retort, Josuke seemed to have entered the grounds. I couldn’t really see him, but the horde of fans told everything. I looked back to my friend and raised an eyebrow at the scenario.

“I also don’t want him to think of me as just another fan,” I huffed.

“I don’t think he’d group you with them,” My friend shrugged. “You two are close now, you’re on a level that his fans aren’t.”

I didn’t think about that. Yeah I was his friend, but I suppose that I was afraid that if I did confess, that his view of me would lower and he’d stop wanting to be friends. Which doesn’t sound like Josuke, I know, but the anxiety still lingered. But now I kinda did want to do something now. Not some grand gesture, just a small thing. Maybe make something small and a note. I could buy my friends some candy as well to use as a cover up in case he didn’t like me back…

The day came quicker than I liked. I trudged to school, my bag heavier than normal with the treats it carried. I started to second guess myself, I could always just eat it all myself. Not the candy I got for my friends…but the chocolate covered strawberries I made for Josuke. I could always just give some of the candy in my bag to him instead. Rip the note to shreds and throw it away.

No, I shook my head. I’ve gone this far, I can always fall onto my cover story just in case. I could pinpoint Josuke easily due to people swarming him like flies. Once again, that little voice of doubt flooded my mind. He’s already being bombarded, I don’t want to add to it.

“Oi, (y/n)!” A familiar voice shouted. “Over here!” I turned towards Okuyasu, Koichi waving at me from beside him. I joined the two surprised to not see Yukako or Koichi covered in gifts yet.

“Hey,” I greeted back as I approached them. “I got you guys something.”

Okuyasu’s eyes seemed to shine brightly as I rummaged through my bag and handed them each a little bag of candies. Josuke finally approached us and peered at us curiously, “What’cha guys got there?”

“Thank you so much (y/n)!” Okuyasu yelled, pulling me into a suffocating hug trying to hold back tears. “You’re the best!”

I patted his back and chuckled at his reaction, “I wanted to get you all something for being such great friends.”

Once Okuyasu let go, Josuke peaked his head into my view, “You got us all something?”

I drew in a deep breath, it was now or never I suppose. As the two others were preoccupied digging through their candy bags I quickly took out the small box with the note taped to the top. I thrust it into Josuke’s hands and brought my finger up to my lips in a ‘shh’ motion.

“Don’t tell the others but I got you something a little extra,” I joked lightly, hoping I came off as I normally do. I noticed he started to read the note and I quickly slapped my hand over it, drawing attention to us but I was too anxious to care. “Read that later!” I spluttered, feeling my heart race. I’d rather him read that when I’m far away and can’t see his reaction.

I glanced at my watch, noticing class was going to start soon. I waved goodbye to the group, not taking a second glance. If only I did, because I would’ve been met with Josuke staring at me in adoration, a rosy pink settling on his cheeks.

The day seemed to drag by and I tried to ignore that I totally confessed to Josuke that morning, even if it was indirectly in a note. It was the first question my friend asked and I begrudgingly told them about what I did. It was a nice distraction when Yukako showed up and poured a load of gifts on Koichi, giving him a short kiss on the cheek as a finale.

I felt a sort of jealousy setting in the pit of my stomach. That kind of relationship is what I longed for. I suppose not the stalking and kidnapping part…or the obsession… Okay so maybe their relationship wasn’t perfect at first, but they seemed to be working through it together.

I tried to ignore the glances Josuke would give me during lunch. He totally read the note. God, and he totally knew my intentions too. I shouldn’t have given it to him. I picked at my food as my friends swapped candies they liked. My best friend, knowing exactly what prediction I was in wiggled their eyebrows.

“Oh he totally got the message,” They grinned smugly. I groaned and hit my head on the table. “It’s not that bad. He can’t keep his eyes off of you even with all the people confessing to him.”

“Of course he’s going to be,” I frowned. “I’m his friend so he’s gonna feel different about rejecting me.”

“More like accepting you,” They nudged me.

I just rolled my eyes, not feeling hopeful. I just hope I didn’t ruin a great friendship. The second half of class went by faster as I focused on school work. Bell rang and I was the second student to turn their paper in to the teacher and leave. Once again I was going to run out and hopefully not run into the person I was dreading to see. But of course life had a way of squashing my plans.

A pink and baby blue figure stood in front of me, arms crossed and a stoic gaze rested on me. I quickly snapped my head back to a normal angle, I hate being able to see things that others can’t sometimes, I hope no one saw and thought I was weird. I slowly turned my head around as Josuke pushed past other students, charmingly excusing himself.

“(Y/n),” Josuke panted slightly, waving at me. “Hold up!”

I stood in place as he finally approached me, “It’s not like I had much of a choice.”

Josuke grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, “Well I know you have a tendency to run off and I wanted to make sure I caught up to you this time.”

I wanted to shrink, am I that predictable? Did he really notice that? Does that mean he pays attention to me? I shrugged, not sure why he wanted to catch me so badly after school…okay maybe he does have a reason but I’d rather forget I did anything.

“Is it cool if I walk you home?” Josuke asked breezily, a charming smile resting on his lips.

Damn him, damn him for stirring up all these fluttery, confusing, warm feelings. I hated it. I hated but loved it. I just wanted to throw the damn feelings away, not wanting to waste time on one-sided pining, but on the other hand I wanted to bask in the warmth these feelings brought. To indulge myself in something I wasn’t sure I was able to have.

“Sure,” I shrugged again. Just pretend like nothing has changed. That’ll fix everything…totally. Josuke’s grin somehow widened and he nodded.

I hated that white day was a month after Valentine’s day. Josuke was being much more affectionate towards me lately and his fans didn’t seem too happy. Not that I really cared about them but still, it was uncomfortable. I mean the gestures Josuke did could still be viewed as platonic. It was mostly hugs, resting his arm on my head/shoulder, and on the rareish occasion he’d hold my hand.

It would make my heart flutter every time. He didn’t bring up the gift I gave him, and I thought that’s what I wanted, but slowly I realized I wanted closure. I’d rather be straight out rejected than this weird little dance we shared of not speaking our feelings. It was giving me hope, something I didn’t like in a situation I felt so uncertain in.

It was a constant thought in the back of my mind, but it slowly faded as school and work once more took priority. I nearly forgot about the whole ordeal when white day came around. Josuke being more affectionate being a new norm that people just didn’t comment on anymore. And without my friends pointing it out, it became something I grew accustomed to. The flutter in my stomach never left, but I grew used to the feeling.

“Oh!” I said in shock as Okuyasu handed me a small teddy bear and a small box of chocolates. “Y-you didn’t have to get me this.”

Okuyasu grinned sheepishly, a small blush on his tanned cheeks, “I never got a gift on Valentines day, even just from a friend. So I wanted to return the favor!”

A giant smile spread across my face, “Well thank you, Oku. It means a lot.”

Koichi handed me a small baggie of candy, similar to the ones I gave him, “I know it’s not as much as the other two got you…”

My eyebrows furrowed as Josuke hadn't given me anything, but decided to brush it off, “It’s alright, I wasn’t expecting anything in return. Besides, I’d rather not get on Yukako’s bad side.” The three of us shivered at the thought.

The small (okay maybe it grew a lot) glimmer of hope I had that Josuke would reciprocate my confession slowly dissipated throughout the day. It felt like a knife in my heart when I realized I wasn’t the only one waiting for something from Josuke. I truly was just like his fans. I felt cold as I zoned out the teacher’s lecture. Once again, I just wanted to go home and avoid people. I really was predictable.

I packed my bags slowly as the bell rang. Everyone shuffling around me. This time, I’ll try to wait out Josuke if he was planning on catching me again. I made my way to the band room. My friends would hang out there for a bit after school so I thought I might as well join them.

“So, how’d it go?” My friend asked, a giant grin on their face.

I simply looked away with a frown, “How’d what go?”

Their grin fell, “Well Josuke’s an idiot. He can’t just lead you on and do nothing!” I shrugged, my other friends tuning into our conversation.

“Yeah, don’t get hung up on a guy that isn’t taking your feelings seriously,” My other friend chimed in.

My heart felt a little lighter at the support of my friends and I smiled bitterly, “Well, Okuyasu got me a cute teddy.” I pulled out the small plushie and the others pointed out how it wasn’t all bad today. I decided to try and focus on the good of today. I got a few things today, I got to hang out with my friends, I got a good score on that one test. Though that small pang was still there.

The door slid open and Josuke popped into the room, looking a bit frazzled. His eyes scanned the room and when they fell on me they lit up. But my friends weren’t really having it. Their stares held a bit of hostility, but they didn’t do anything more. I, myself, didn’t have the most pleased look.

“Hey,” He greeted, fully coming into the room, either ignoring the tense atmosphere or not even realizing there was one. “I was wondering where you were. I, uh, was wondering if you’d wanna come to Trattoria Trussardi with me.”

“That one Italian restaurant?” I asked, feeling my heart skip a beat. I hated how he had such an influence on my emotions. My friend elbowed my side and I glared at them. “I suppose I have nothing better to do,” I shrugged, suddenly feeling a bit shy.

“Great!” Josuke shouted, before flushing red and seeming to correct himself. “I-I mean cool, cool.”

His grin shined through still along with his fading blush. Taking a hand out of his pocket, he held it out towards me and I grabbed it without much thought. I grabbed my bag and glared at my friends as they snickered at us.

Somehow, with all these feelings bubbling inside of me, Josuke and I managed to slide into a comfortable conversation. He seemed a bit more bashful than usual, stuttering over himself. I showed him the teddy that Okuyasu gifted me when I told him about my day.

His face contorted into a frown, “So he has enough extra money to buy you something, but when I ask to borrow some he magically doesn’t have any.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up, teasing him I replied, “I guess I’m his favorite now.”

Josuke’s frown turned into a pout, “Is he your favorite?”

When I met those diamond like eyes of his, my heart stuttered. My instinct was to deny it, but maybe I should tease him a bit more for dragging this all out today.

“Maybe,” I replied, looking away to conceal the smile that was nearly splitting at the seams.

“(Y/nnnn),” Josuke drew out the last syllables of my name. He draped himself over my back, arms sliding over my shoulders and tucking his head in the crook of my neck. I felt myself tense, but forced my shoulders back down into a relaxed position so Josuke didn't pull back. I don’t want him to think I hate his affection, I’m just not used to such actions. “That note you wrote was for me, wasn’t it?” I could feel the smile form on his lips before he pulled away, standing taller than before with newfound confidence. Smug bastard.

I crossed my arms, not wanting to feed into his ego but not being to deny it either, “I think I might retract it.”

Before he could protest, we finally came into view. I went to open the door, but Josuke raced me and opened it for me instead. I gave him a weird look but didn’t say anything. Luckily, a table was open and Josuke once again rushed to pull out the seat for me. He seemed a lot more jumpy now, the situation finally sinking in.

I looked around the restaurant, not sure what to do. There wasn’t any menu, but I’ve only heard good things about this place. People being cured of aches, acne, fatigue, and so much more. It quickly grew into popularity, so I was extra surprised when we got in without a hitch.

“He’s a stand user,” Josuke spoke up, speaking about the owner of the place.

“Wow,” My eyes widened. “There’s more stand users here than I thought there would be.”

Josuke nodded, tapping his fingers on the table before changing the subject, “Thank you, for the note and the strawberries.”

“That feels like ages ago,” I waved him off with a forced laugh. “No need to thank me. You’re my friend, of course I was gonna get you something.”

Josuke seemed to falter, but I pretended like I didn’t notice, “Seemed like a bit more than what just a friend would say.”

I tapped against the table now. I wanted to talk about it, but now I wanted to go back to ignoring it. I glanced at Josuke, his eyes seeming to search for something in my expression. The waiter, I learned named Tonio, put two plates of food in front of the two of us. He smiled at us, wishing us a good meal before leaving. I turned my attention to my food. I wasn’t completely sure what it was, but it smelled good.

No wonder I always found myself single. I’m acting like a child. But ignoring my feelings has always been easier than bearing my heart. I shoved food in my mouth while I internally berated myself. Wow, this was really good food!

“I like holding you,” Josuke said quietly. I tensed as he referenced the stupidly cheesy part of my note where I admitted to enjoying affection. “Your hands seem to fit perfectly in mine, your smile takes my breath away, and everytime you laugh at one of my stupid jokes I feel like I’m on top of the world.” I felt my cheeks warm at his confession and I slowly raised my head up to meet his gaze. It was intense, fiery passion clear in his unwavering crystal gaze.

“You’re always so kind to us all, you give more than you take,” He continued, his eyes softening. At that moment, it felt like the world came to a halt. I suddenly felt seen, heard, cared about. Josuke took my hand into his own on top of the table, “I found myself falling for you faster than I could process. So when you handed me that small box and note, I was overwhelmed. I still have the note, I don’t think I could ever throw it away because I knew that you were bearing your heart to me, and trusted me with your feelings.”

I squeezed his hand lightly, not sure how to process this information. It was like a dream come true. I wasn’t sure if I could handle much more of his praises though, as I started feeling a bit light headed…or was that the food’s doing?

“A-ah, I’m rambling,” Josuke chuckled awkwardly, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “I guess what I’m trying to get at is that I like you too, (y/n). And it would make my world if you’d agree to be my partner.”

Suddenly, the world grew fuzzy and I squinted my eyes. I could barely make out Josuke’s blurry face before the world snapped back into focus, much clearer than before. I looked around in awe, finally meeting the piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold me in place.

“I would love to,” I agreed, smiling sheepishly.

That damn waitress is going to rub it in next time we go to St. Gentlemens.

#jjba x reader #josuke higashikata x reader #jojo x reader #josuke x reader #jjba #x reader #diamond is unbreakable #diu #diu x reader #jjba part 4 #josuke higashikata

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belladonnadawn · 15 days

Text

Afterglow

“Why'd I have to break what I love so much? It's on your face, don't walk away.”

Kayson x Reader

Part two of “I Don’t Smoke”

Four days, you counted. Four days without reading his messages, listening to his voice, and having his affection. With those days, every part of you yearns for him.

You understood why you haven’t talked after what happened. Whenever you look back, you were faced with guilt and shame for inflicting pain on him. His face, his voice, and his expression filled with ache continues to haunt you. You wish you could take the words back and speak to him kindly instead, but what is done is done; all you can do is face the music.

Breezing through your to-do lists and reviewing the topics, you were able to finish

everything with plenty of time to spare. It wasn’t a surprise, knowing how studious and perfectionist you are. But now that you have time to take a break, you don't have the guts to relax; especially when you pushed away the person that you wanted to spend time with.

During those, you tried to plan your apology. Writing it on a paper, practicing on the mirror, and reciting it alone; you were desperate to say the least. You already broke his heart by pouring your frustrations at him, the last thing that you wanted was fucking things up further by giving him a half-assed apology. After what happened, Kayson deserves better, so you’ll do anything to be that.

Monday came and so is your opportunity to patch things up. Having a schedule with Mr. Taylor as his student assistant the same day he has practice gives you a chance to talk to him. You weren't confident on how things may unfold, but you held on to that hope that the probability will be in your favor.

Sitting on the bleachers, you watched them on the sideline as the team practiced. You wanted to admire how they improved, but all you could focus on was Kayson– who hasn't glanced at you since you came. Your heart broke a little but you expected it. The tension between you two was still palpable, you were anxious if it’s all in your head or he could feel it too. Your eyes fixated at him, filled with longing and guilt

“[name], I need you to run some papers for the student development office. Tell them that they need to sign the copy of approval and give me a soft and hard copy.” Mr. Taylor, handed you an envelope. You immediately nodded, though upset you won’t be able to watch Kayson's practice and wait for him, you just assured yourself that you’ll be quick.

With all your might, you ran back towards the court. After long lines at the office due to their preparations for the finals, you took more time than expected. As you finally reached the court, you were disappointed as you were met with silence. The place was now empty, absent of players and their belongings.

A sigh escaped your lips as you dragged yourself towards Mr. Taylor’s office. “Sir, this is the hard copy, they said that they’ll just email you the other one.” He accepted the envelope with a nod. You looked around his office, “I can see that the court was empty, Sir.” You commented, wondering where they’ve been– where Kayson has been under the guise of small talk.

“Well, we went for a few rounds and I dismissed them. Don’t want them to just focus on volleyball while finals are coming up. Also, thank you for helping me with the paper. I know everyone’s busy and offices are bombarded, but you still managed to do it. Get some rest, you deserve it.” Mr. Taylor smiled at you. You nodded, muttering a small ‘thank you’ before leaving his office.

You were disappointed that you’re not able to reach him, but at the same time you promised yourself to not let this moment pass. So with shaky hands, you messaged him: "Hey, can we meet after class? At the court?" Pressing send, you wished for his response– and you wished it was a ‘yes’.

As you’re walking to your class, your notification rang; it was from him. You were scared to open it– scared of his rejection. So taking a deep breath, you read his message: “Sure, I’ll see you.” Finally, a sigh of relief escaped your lips. You head down to your class with a smile, at least, for now, there’s hope.

You sat at the bleachers patiently, waiting for his arrival. Millions of thoughts running through your mind: ‘Is he still angry?’ ‘What if there’s no other chance?’ ‘Will he forgive me?’ Taking deep breaths, you tried to calm yourself down from those thoughts. The reminder that his emotions, or yours, was not truly what the person is. Standing up, you paced back and forth, trying to ground yourself.

“[name]?” You stopped your tracks and turned to him, your heart felt as if it’s beating out of its cage as you faced him.

“Hey,” A small smile plastered on your face as he finally arrived. It’s been days since you last heard him, and listening to him just now seemed surreal.

The court was empty with just the two of you as you both sat down beside each other, still keeping a small distance. Awkward silence filled the room as both of you did not dare to speak.

“How have you been?” Kayson broke the silence.

“Just the same.” You answered. You didn’t want to lie. After what happened, you went back to the same old you– the workaholic, perfectionist, overworking you. Schoolworks has been your way to drown all the negative thoughts from your parents and yourself, it was a way for you to take a break from your problems. It was unhealthy, but at least it gets the job done.

“You?”

“You know, doing the same old me.” Kayson answered, giving you a small smile.

You tapped your fingers on the bench, a nervous habit of yours that won't go away anytime soon. "So... uh." You cleared your throat, trying to fill the awkward silence that was becoming too painful to your liking. There's this guilt in your heart facing the man that you struck down when all he wanted was for you to soar. He was your cheerleader– your number one supporter, yet you had treated him with such anger.

"About what happened..." He looked at you and your heart almost leaped out of your chest. May it be out of admiration or nervousness, but one thing's for sure: you truly missed it.

“I’d like to apologize for what I did to you and for what happened. That night I was too frustrated at my work and myself that I took it out on you. It was unprovoked and unnecessary, especially when all you want is for me to take a break. And you’re right–” This was the part you never accounted for. Before this, you have prepared everything, from your stance to tone; but you never anticipated that you’d break in front of him. For someone who prides themselves for being put together, you sure are a mess when it comes to Kayson.

Looking away, you cleared your throat as you tried to compose yourself. . “I just think there's no excuse for what I did to you.” Your voice cracked as tears began to fall slowly.

You didn’t dare to look at him once more, fearing that it would break your heart further. For someone who prides themselves for being put together, you sure are a mess in front of him. You can't help it, he brings out a different kind of vulnerability that can only come out around him. God knows what power he has over you.

You looked up at the ceiling, trying to stop tears from coming. Then you finally looked him in the eyes again, “I’m so sorry, Kayson. It’s my fault. I understand if you’re leaving me after this, but please don’t.” All your efforts concealing your emotions was futile as you completely broke down in front of him.

Kayson’s eyes were filled with concern as he pulled you close, “Hey, shh…” He gently rubbed your back, his touch was soft and caring, “I won’t leave you, please don’t cry. It hurts me to see you cry.” You nodded, wiping your tears away and pulling from him so you could look at his face.

“I get it, okay? You were stressed and I kept pushing. I was just in the right place at the wrong time.” He gently wiped your tears.

“Still! I shouldn’t have done it. I could’ve been polite, but I wasn’t. I made you cry.” You insisted.

“I-I didn’t cry. I mean– I did, but just almost… you know.” Kayson’s cheeks turn red at the mention of his reaction.

You nodded at his excuse, finally having the courage, you held his hand. “I’m really sorry, Kayson. I promise to be better.” Kayson squeezed your hand in an assuring manner, you smiled gently at his gesture.

“It’s okay. I just worry about you too much sometimes you know.”

You pulled him in for a hug, nuzzling on his shoulder as you drowned in him. Kayson’s grip on you was tight, burying his face on your shoulder. The days that you longed for each other was dreadful, and the fact that both of you could share a moment like this felt like a dream came true.

“I missed you.” Kayson spoke gently, voice filled with yearning and love.

“I missed you too.” You gently caressed his cheek.

“May I… kiss you?” You nodded. He pulled you close, sighing as your lips touched. Hands wrapped around his neck, while his was on your waist. It was passionate, yet tender. The way he felt against your lips was like heaven. Your breath quickened as he pulled you closer, lips moving in a sensual manner.

Kayson gave your lips a small peck before pulling away. “You really missed me, huh?” He teased.

“I did, I really did.” The heavy weight from your chest faded, it was now filled with warmth knowing that you still have him by your side. No word could describe how much you cherished and appreciated him, but you’ll do anything to convey it. A soft smile was on your face as you held his hand once again, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Pattern banner from Cafekitsune.

#zsakuva #sakuverse #kayson #Spotify

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tennessoui · 3 months

Note

Number 19 for the prompt thing. The parents meeting because of their kids. I’m kinda imagining Korkie being like a tutor/school reading buddy for the twins or something but you can just ignore that if it doesn’t match your thoughts on it.

hello!! i thought back as much as i could, and i don't think i actually did this prompt the first time around a couple of years ago, so there's nothing to link to save for the prompt list!

i stuck with korkie as obi-wan's kid and the twins as anakin's, but made the kids the same age and then took...a few more liberties with the prompt haha

(19. parents meeting while taking their kids to class) (sort of)

(2.8k)

“Leia, baby, why do you always decide to get into fights at school when it’s my week with you?” Anakin asks the steering wheel as he buckles himself in and turns over the engine. “They’re going to start thinking I’m raising a truant. Then they’re going to start asking about your home life, then they’re going to bring in experts to ask me more questions, then Padmé’s parents are going to throw their considerable legal weight around and get my partial custody revoked and then where will we be? Is that what you want? To only see me on your birthday and Christmas?”

Anakin pauses and reconsiders. Knowing his daughter, she may very well only want to see him for birthdays and Christmases. It would mean double the presents.

Thankfully the silence of the car doesn’t offer much in the way of constructive critique.

At a red light, he puts his head down on the steering wheel for a long enough moment that the car behind him honks when the light changes to green.

“They’re going to stop letting me leave work to come get you,” Anakin mutters a few minutes later as he turns the car into the school’s parking lot. “I have a partner meeting in thirty minutes that I really can’t miss, baby. Can’t you at least schedule your schoolyard fights around my calendar?”

It’s all rather pointless, but it feels good to grumble and bitch in the time it takes him to leave his office and arrive at the school, before he has to put on his adult face and demeanor to sit through another round of We’re Worried Your Five Year Old Is Too Violent As She Seems To View The Monkey Bars As Sacrificial Zones.

“Maybe she’d like hockey,” he says under his breath as he grabs his jacket from the other seat and swings it over his suit. It’s fucking freezing already, not even December. It’s indecent, that’s what it is. Surely a place as cold as this has a peewee hockey team in need of another angry little girl.

“Thank you,” he says when a woman holds the door open for him on her way out the building.

He’s stil sort of freaked out that the elementary school his children are going to is fancy enough to have an entrance hallway with a chandelier hanging from the ceilingk, but it’s not him that’s paying for their private school education that doesn’t offer discounts for all the collective hours they’ll spend napping on the floors.

To the immediate left of the door is the receptionist’s desk—behind her, the nurse’s room. He’s quite familiar with both. Mrs. Whitsdale even waves when she sees him, which means, unfortunately, she’s just made the shortlist of people Anakin needs to make Christmas cookies for. She joins the ranks of everyone else that’s been made to deal with his son and daughter in the tumultuous year after the divorce.

“Hi, ma’am,” he says dutifully, sticking his head into the receptionist area. “Do I need to sign in or can I just go up?”

She waves him away. “I’ve already got you, sweetheart. You’re late anyway, they’re waiting for you upstairs.”

“You’re a miracle amongst men,” he calls out as he turns instead to the right of the door and up the old staircase that leads to the principal’s office. This is also a route he is incredibly familiar with.

How can he be late? He practically flew here on light feet and broken speed limits. It’s enough to take his mood from bad to worse, which isn’t optimal for a meeting with the principal of the school when it’s his kid who caused the fight. Anakin’s role is to nonconfrontational, contrite to the point of groveling—because he knows his daughter won’t.

That’s already hard enough when he’s feeling normal. It’s practically impossible when he’s feeling foul.

But Padmé did always say Leia got her stubbornness and temper from Anakin.

Anakin’s always said Leia never really had a chance considering who her parents are.

After all, someone threw a hairdryer at the hotel mirror before they got divorced and it wasn’t Anakin. But he’s not stupid enough to even think that when Padmé’s around.

The big oak door at the end of the hallway on the second floor is elaborate, looks heavy, and stays closed. He knows that this is the headmaster’s office, but he’s never seen the guy around. He doesn’t even know what the guy does. What’s a headmaster of an elementary school doing every day?

It’s an elementary school.

But, again. Anakin’s not paying for all this pomp and circumstance.

He takes another right instead, down the corridor in the opposite direction to the principal’s office. The door’s left ajar, and Anakin knocks politely before entering at the call to.

A couple of things bring him up short as soon as he steps into the room. For one thing, it’s not Principal Cinoff behind the desk, but a stranger who has the remnants of a three-piece suit on, jacket hanging neatly on a coat rack in the corner of the room. His vest is a deep red that should do nothing but drain his complexion—all pasty white skin, freckled and sun-starved, paired with his reddish hair and beard. It doesn’t, which is unfair to the point of duplicity. Or–something.

The way he’s sitting at the desk, hands spread wide on the wood and shoulders back, leaves no doubt in Anakin’s mind that the stranger is in a position of power here at the school. And probably in, like. Life. He looks like the kind of guy who gets his groceries on discount even without providing a loyalty card. He also looks like the kind of guy the system bends to accommodate. As a lawyer, Anakin is offended and deeply disturbed. That’s why his stomach does two or three flips in quick succession when they make eye contact.

The stranger’s eyes are cool and focused as they run over Anakin, and he gives him a perfunctory incline of his head. At least his eyes are warmer when they fall to the kids in front of him.

And that’s the other thing that shocks him.

The amount of children in front of the desk. One pouting ginger kid off to the side, arms crossed and staring down at his light-up sneakers.

And then two very familiar heads of hair on the other side.

“Luke?” He asks before he can stop himself, surprise dripping from his tone. “What are you doing here?”

At this rate, he’s going to give his daughter a complex, he knows it.

But Luke has never been in trouble before. Sure, they’re only five, and it’s only been three months of school, but in that time, Anakin’s been called down here six times to deal with Leia-related emergencies. He’s always imagined that meanwhile, Luke was in his classroom, chewing on crayons or diligently helping the teacher pass out homework assignments.

The stand-in principal coughs slightly and rises. “Ah, Mr. Skywalker-Amidala. Thank you for being able to join us today.”

Anakin scowls automatically before schooling his face into something far more diplomatic and pleasant when his children whirl around in their seats to look at him. The last thing he needs is for his children to think they can sneer at authority figures, given that he’s one of their main authority figures.

Luke leaves his chair to hug onto his leg, pressing his small face into the fabric of his pants, presumably seeking comfort and also to wipe his face dry of tears and snot.

Anakin puts a hand on his head and strokes through his hair, darting a curious glance at Leia, who has turned around to glare forward again, arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s just Skywalker, actually,” he tells the stranger. “Amidala is their mother.”

The man’s eyebrow goes up and he picks up a pen to make a note on the papers before him. An actual note. Regarding Anakin’s divorce. “Ah, apologies then,” he says. “Our contact list notes you as the father, Skywalker-Amidala, and their mother as Amidala-Organa.”

Anakin squints, trying to decide if the stranger is just trying to correct a clerical error in the school’s records or fishing for gossip. He gives him the benefit of the doubt. “Amidala is their mother, recently remarried to Organa. Organas. And she’s always been better at remembering to file paperwork than I am.”

The stranger keeps his face admirably placid. “Ah,” he says. “Well, Mr. Skywalker. Should we begin?”

“Uh,” he says. “What about the other parent?”

The stranger blinks at him, both eyebrows raised. “I’m a widower.”

“Uh,” he says. “I meant…” he gestures at the other child, the surly looking ginger kid.

“I’m afraid it will just be us, Mr. Skywalker,” the stranger says. “Please, sit.”

Anakin sits, and Luke is quick to scramble up into his lap with a very plaintative, “I didn’t really mean to.”

“So at recess today, the children were playing on the swings,” the stranger who must be the principal for the day says. “And—”

“Sorry,” Anakin interrupts. “Can I get your name please? I was expecting Principal Cinoff.”

The man pauses. “Sheri has been put on sudden maternity-leave a few months early,” he says. “For the next couple of weeks, I’ll be dual-hatting as both principal and headmaster while we continue to search for a temporary replacement.” He raises an eyebrow at Anakin. Anakin really doesn’t appreciate that. “This was in an email the school sent out to all the parents recently.”

“Yes, well,” Anakin says. “I get a lot of emails.”

The man looks unimpressed. “I encourage you to prioritize the communications from your children’s learning institute.”

Anakin bristles. What a dick. Who the fuck says learning institute?

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” he asks in his best unimpressed voice.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the man’s unimpressed voice is ten times more chilling than Anakin’s, which is also not fair. “Please, call me Dr. Kenobi.” Anakin scowls. “I appreciate the fact that you feel as though you can cover the extremely busy roles of both headmaster and principal of an elementary school, but I would really rather wait until the other parent gets here so we can most productively discuss the altercation, Mr. Kenobi.”

“Please, Mr. Skywalker,” Kenobi says. “Leave the litigation to the court rooms, we—”

“It’s Esquire, actually.”

Kenobi’s face grows very pinched around the mouth and eyebrows. Anakin feels a vicious thrill course through him even as his stomach flips again.

“I suppose I should have made it clearer at the beginning of this session,” Kenobi says, tone dripping in you idiot. “This is my son, Korkie.”

Anakin’s mouth falls open. His immediate thought is, of course, Korkie Kenobi? And he thought Luke and Leia were too cutesy for twin names.

“Korkie is a family name,” Kenobi adds rather dryly. “My late wife’s grandfather’s.”

Anakin doubts that’s even true. He bets it’s not actually, that Kenobi just plays the dead wife card to get out of judgemental questions about his naming abilities.

But then another, worse thought occurs to Anakin. “Wait a second, you can’t be the parent and the principal!”

“I assure you, I am impartial.”

“Like hel—heck you are!” Anakin straightens in his seat and Luke lets out a grumble, clinging tightly to his front. “I demand a different authority.” “No,” Kenobi says firmly, as if the matter is at rest. This, of course, is absolutely infuriating.

“It’s unfair bias and I will not see either of my children punished in a tyrannical and self-serving institution—”

Kenobi pinches at the bridge of his nose. “Mr. Skywalker, unless you would like to have me call Mrs. Cinoff away from her pre-mature baby, I am the best option this school has. Please. Settle down.”

“Dad,” Leia says, “I don’t want to miss reading time.”

Anakin breathes out in disgust. Shitty, overpriced private school. This sort of thing would never happen at a publicly funded school.

“The fact of the matter is that Luke pushed Korkie off the swings,” Kenobi says with a stern look at both Luke and Anakin. He holds up his hand when Anakin opens his mouth. “An incident that many were witness to. And before you make an accusation, there were many witnesses who were not on the school’s payroll, Mr. Skywalker.”

Anakin closes his mouth sullenly.

“Korkie could have been very hurt, Luke,” Kenobi says, clasping his hands in front of him and looking down at Anakin’s son. “He was swinging pretty fast when you pushed him, and he could have broken his ankle in the fall.”

Luke’s bottom lip trembles. “I didn’t want to hurt him,” he mumbles, turning his face back into Anakin’s sleeve. “He was being mean. I just wanted him to stop.” “I wasn’t!” Korkie cries, sitting straight in his chair for the first time since Anakin’s arrived. “I wasn’t being mean, dad!” “You said Leia’s hair looks like cinnamon buns on her head!” Luke shouts back, pushing away from Anakin’s arms to glare at the other boy.

Anakin winces. When it’s Padmé’s turn with the kids, Leia always turns up to school with elaborately braided hair, twisted on top of her head in elegant formations that look effortlessly pretty. He knows that’s not Padmé’s work, but he also can’t figure out if Breha or Bail is responsible. It’s not something he wants to ask.

The fanciest Anakin can do, after all, is two buns on either side of Leia’s head.

That do, truth be told, look rather like cinnamon rolls.

“Ah,” Kenobi says. “I believe I understand the miscommunication here. Korkie, would you like to tell the Skywalkers what you meant when you told Luke that Leia’s hair looked like cinnamon buns?”

If possible, the kid turns even more red, blushing furiously. “I really like cinnamon buns,” he mutters, crossing his arms tighter. “They’re my favorite.”

“He’s started asking for them for breakfast several times a week,” Kenobi tells Anakin with a smile lingering around his lips. “I’ve been wondering why.”

Anakin isn’t sure he likes the explanation. Sure, Korkie can have whatever sort of crush on his daughter that he wants to have, but likening her hair to cinnamon buns isn’t very kind, and he’s pretty sure that if someone else was the judge in this trial, they wouldn’t be so quick to justify the other boy’s words.

Luke seems to agree with him. “Your hair looks like carrots,” he snaps, crossing his arms.

Because Anakin is an intelligent adult who understands that making enemies with the headmaster’s son isn’t the best move, he adds on the Skywalker family’s behalf, “Luke loves carrots.”

Luke, in fact, hates carrots.

“There is still the matter of Luke pushing Korkie off the swing,” Kenobi says, eyebrows raised like he understands exactly what’s going unsaid here. “We do not encourage physical violence of any sort here, and it was dangerous. Korkie could have been hurt much more badly than a scraped knee.”

The words are very serious and grave, and Luke wilts under the headmaster-principal-father’s disappointed stare. Anakin bristles.

“Well, it’s his first infraction,” he says. “And he was sticking up for his sister. I think that’s fair. He won’t do it again.”

“Hm,” Kenobi says, pushing papers aside and pulling out a glossy leaflet. “Now, I cannot force you to consider this, but I noticed that neither Luke nor Leia are currently enrolled in any of our extracurriculars.”

“They’re five.”

“We have many on offer at Jedi Prepatory School,” Kenobi continues as if Anakin hasn’t said anything. “And I wanted to highlight our peewee hockey league. I think both Leia and Luke would enjoy the rigorous schedule, and they may…benefit from the…structure it offers. And team activity.”

Anakin glowers. He can read between the lines. Kenobi’s just called his parenting style structureless and lazy. It makes him want to grab the pamphlet and rip it to shreds in front of him. “I would have to talk about it with their mother,” he says stiffly instead.

“Of course,” Kenobi says cheerfully. “When you do, please give Bail and Breha my well-wishes as well. It’s been far too long since I’ve had the time to see them, given how exhastingly busy it is to be the headmaster and principal of an elementary school.”

“Right,” Anakin grits out. “Yeah. I’ll let my ex-wife’s new partners know.”

Kenobi’s smile is all teeth. “I look forward to seeing you in the rink, Mr. Skywalker Esquire. My son plays on the team.”

Anakin wonders if there’s another peewee hockey team he can have his kids join. Just so they can beat Jedi Prepatory school and then laugh in Korkie and Dr. Kenobi’s faces.

Yeah. That sounds really nice.

He’ll look when he gets back to work.

This takes priority.

#asks #prompt fill #obikin #i actually love writing aus where they're assholes to each other from the start and also insane about the other #anakin definitely finds a different peewee (baby hockey) team for teh twins #and makes sure he can make it to their every game #especially those against jedi prep #so he can spend the entire time sniping at kenobi #this time with gloves off because their kids can't hear them from the ice #rude and mean and barbed enough that all the other parents throw kenobi startled looks #and given them a wide berth #they hate each other they're flirting like mad they sneak away from the school cupcake sale to fuck in the computer lab #anakin has never been more involved in his twins' kindergarten education #neither has dr kenobi

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raffe156 · 1 year

Text

Breakaway State part 5

Pairing - Price X Female OC “Tank”

Summary - McKinley still has serious control issues, Kyle and Tank are the cutest in a small bed, Price and Ghost kick off in a small room, Helen has some big news, mission plans, first names and its definitely classed as kissing if you drink from the same cup.

A/N - Thank you for your patience, life got a bit in the way of this one again!

As always, please comment and let me know what you think. It means the world to me when you do x

Warnings -17+ Angst. Language, Age gap Price (39) Tank (25), Violence, abuse, abuse of power, controlling behaviour, injury

Tags: @shuttlelauncher81 @mildlyhopeless @mentallynot-here @deadbranch @soapyghost @fluffysmiko @bangirl134 @mortallyscrumptiousmilkshake @boomtowngirl @fanficandartgal @merakiaes @tapioca-marzipan @boniscute @chb-7 @adicthao @a-littlebirdie @mostannoyingbillioner @brewed-pangolin @littlezarp @dreadbangin @goodsoup03

If I've missed anyone, please let me know

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank, Luke, Dredd and Mckinley

Master list link here

The words "dismissal or death" had been circling your head for hours as you lay awake in your cot. Even if you just slept for an hour or two, every time McKinley moved over in the cot above you, your body instantly jerked you awake. Your eyes stung searching the pitch black for any sign of him.

You heard movement from above, you looked at the alarm clock on the small metal dresser 4:00am. McKinley was waking up, you heard him stretch, then watched as his legs dangled off the edge before he jumped down. He flicked the small desk lamp on an stood with his back to you in just his boxers, his back and body littered in scars, the soft glow from the light causing them to shine, some looked like burns some clearly from bullets and shrapnel. He turned just as you shut your eyes, too late to roll over an face the wall.

You felt his eyes on you, you tried to breathe deep acting as if you were asleep, he knew you weren’t. You tried to stay calm when you felt his hand brush a piece of hair from your face. It took everything in you not to flinch, you didn’t dare open your eyes, instead you just waited for him to leave you in peace….if you could call it that.

“You look so serene, almost had me believing you were actually asleep..” you felt him step back but you kept your eyes shut.

He scoffed.

“Fair enough, if that’s how you want to be…I’ll leave you to it.” Mckinley walked away from the beds, he dressed quickly.

You hoped he wouldn’t be much longer and then you felt the bottom of your cot dip he was lacing up his boots.

“You’ll learn to like me kiddo, you know me an you could make a good team…like I said to Price you need some tough love but we’ll get there…” he patted your thigh before he stood up.

His touch made your skin crawl.

“Oh by the way don’t be spending all day in bed, the Doc wants to see you later, physio check in for your shoulder, meet me over at the med bay at 10am…don’t make me come looking for you…” the last part came out as a threat, your heart sunk as he closed the door behind him. Your eyes remained closed for a further 5 minutes just in case he came back.

Dr O’Brian was one of the last people you wanted to see, an a physio check? That daft cow had spent more time grilling you that helping you with your shoulder, what did she care if you could move it or not? She would of been over the moon with an amputation. Either way you had to go, you didn’t fancy being hunted down by McKinley.

You pulled the quilt up over your face closing your tired eyes, Prices face flashed in your mind, it was that drunken look he had given you that first night in his kitchen his eyes lidded, his smile crooked so close, but just as quickly as it appeared it was gone replaced with the gut wrenching look from the night you two had argued…the night he told you it wouldn’t work between you. ENOUGH!

You threw the quilt off and on to the floor, just then a knock came at the door, it wasn’t McKinley he would have just walked in…

“You awake….I’ve just seen mckunty…Tank?” The door creaked open slightly, Kyles hand waving from the gap.

“Yeh I’m awake..come in” you reached down for the quilt pulling it back over yourself. Kyle snuck in shutting the door behind him. He gave you a sympathetic smile. He was still in his joggers, you patted the bed for him to get in, he didn’t need telling twice as he clambered in next to you the warmth from his body, made you almost drowsy. It was a snug fit but you made it work, it was something you two use to do often when at base especially when the heating was nonexistent or when Kyle was homesick. You both lay in silence for a moment, both just happy to be close again. You almost nodded off, but something was bothering him you could tell.

“You ok? I know yesterday was a lot…but Price he means well..hey if I was a Captain I’d of done the same for you…fuck I wanted to smash his face in…” he could feel his jaw tensing.

He meant it, and the thoughts made him smirk. He pictured McKinley alone in a room with them all Ghost, Soap, him and Price. Kyle had witnessed how far Price could go. Before his mind could wander off he felt your eyes on him.

“I’m ok…I know he means well…I just wish he didn’t go that far…” you thought about just telling him, how it was only going to get worse for you now, but when you looked into his eyes you saw the worry and you hated yourself for making him feel like this. So you gave him your best smile and the worry in his eyes seemed to go away if only for a moment. You linked his arm with yours resting your head on his shoulder.

“Anyway let’s just enjoy this while we can eh?” You looked up at him.

He smiled back.

“Yeh…miss this”

“Me too”

You both lay there close, in the safety of your cot like two children hiding from a looming storm.

**********

Price glared at himself in the mirror a slight mark from where his forehead had connected with McKinley’s nose just starting to fade. He gripped the sink with his hands the porcelain threatening to give way. He needed to take a deep breath or else he was going to lose it all over again he didn’t think he could explain two broken bedside tables, but he couldn’t get your face out of his mind, how you had looked at him with disappointed in your eyes. He had done that for you, he would have done more, gone further if Ghost hadn’t stepped in. He needed to take a deep breath. McKinley was definitely going to get him back in some way. Price hoped it didn’t involve you, but he knew better. He knew McKinley. He hated to think of what he was doing to you, it made his blood boil. Why did you go? Why did he let you go? Did he let you go? He hadn’t even known, if he thought for one second that once you got into that transporter you weren’t coming back to him and he wasn’t going to be your captain he would of chased it down, dragged you back an popped your shoulder back in himself like Ghost had so kindly offered. Price let go off the sink the colour returning to his knuckles. He heard a knock at his door. He wanted to shout fuck off but it could only be one of two people at this hour Ghost or you. His hopes dashed when he shouted come in and Ghost’s large frame entered the room, them both being in there made the room almost shrink, the atmosphere suffocating them both pressing down on them. They both knew the reasons behind it, it danced around them. It crackled in the air.

“What?” Price snapped.

“…Sent Gaz to Tanks room to check on her…McKinley is over at the other base watched him leave myself…listen as shit as it is we have to do this the proper way, I hate it too seeing her like that but that yesterday…it’s my fault I let it go too far I shouldn’t of let you get at him.” Ghost sighed he had only just noticed the smashed bedside table.

“I’m sorry what? Let me? You didn’t let me do anything….I’ve done worse for less…believe me lad” Price was seething.

Ghost looked his Captain in the eyes, he was beyond reason.

“What? You think sparking him out…a fellow captain is the answer? I stopped you from committing career suicide! I let you get that first shot in an you fumbled it! You’re just lucky he got cocky” Ghost was starting to lose it a little bit now.

“Haha don’t flatter yourself, you didn’t let me doing anything…an fumbled? I’d put you on your arse any day of the week…remember that” Price was getting closer now, squaring up, in the small room they were nearly chest to chest. The two men stared each other down, neither wanting to back down first, there it was again the unspoken reason they fought, the real reason tensions ran high with them. You.

Ghost had a feeling all this was down to Price and his relationship with the Doc. You obviously had some history with him, how much he didn’t know but it has effected you in someway and to Ghost this was all Prices fault. He deserved to feel like this, helpless and angry. But you didn’t deserve the beatings. It was such a fucking shame you had chosen squad 8. Ghost backed down…Price hated himself more than anyone right now and Ghost didn’t need to add to that they had to work together and figure out how to get you back to the 141. Once that was done then the rest could be figured out…

“…this isn’t gettin us anywhere we need to get her back on side…she needs to file a complaint or a grievance against him…anything, she got transferred over quick enough maybe it can be reversed just as quick…” Ghost leant against the wall his arms folded. Price sighed as he sat on the edge of his bed.

“It’s not that easy….also even if she was to file a complaint..who said she’d want to come back to the 141?” Price ran his hand over his beard the thought made his jaw tense.

“An why wouldn’t she want to come back?” Ghost was probing now, he wanted answers, but from the look on Prices face he didn’t want to give them.

“Price why wouldn’t she want to come back to us?”

Price looked at the ground his eyes fixed. He signed.

“Ever seen a big red button that says do not press? Well I rested my hand on it…didn’t press… but that was enough….” Price shook his head.

Ghost got the jist, but all he could think was how he would of just pushed the button and never took his hand off it.

******************

You waited outside the med bay for O’Brain to call you in…you were 15mins early but no sign of McKinley, you hoped he hadn’t gone looking for you.

“Wanna come in Tank…” O’Brain called you in without even looking at you. You couldn’t help roll your eyes as you got up. As you entered the room your stomach dropped McKinley was sat in the chair next to the bed. Did he really have to be in here, you thought he was just making sure you came to the appointment, not actually being present. You tried to not let your face give you away.

“Good, 15mins early see your learning I would have hated to have to come looking for you…” his smile didn’t meet his eyes. Your face was giving you away.

“Take a seat on the bed please Tank we don’t have all day” O’Brian already sounded like she’d had enough of you. You looked her up and down, who did she think she was talking to? You didn’t even want to be here.

“Hey if you don’t have the time I’m sure we can reschedule..” As you spoke your eyes met McKinley’s, they narrowed in on you, his tongue clicked in disapproval. Shit. Helen looked over her shoulder at you, the small smirk just visible.

“The Doc’s doing you…no she’s doing me a favour Tank in checking you over…an you have the nerve to be arsey?” He tilted his head, his eyes still narrowed.

“Told you, got away with murder this one with John…literally” Helen nodded in your direction. She really was a bitch. You felt your skin starting to prickle with anger.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You stepped closer to her. You didn’t realise you had square yourself up, she was a good foot taller , but you looked her dead in the eyes. She smirked again, oh you were about to wipe it off her face.

“You know exactly what I mean…you need a firm hand Tank, John was too soft on you…but by the looks of you face it seems you have been given a firm hand…good..” She scoffed, nope that was it, but as you lunged, McKinley was already on you.

He had you restrained and pushed face down into the bed within seconds, your bad shoulder twisted round and pressed into your back, it made you cry out in pain, but the more you thrashed around the more of his weight he placed on top of you and the tighter his grip became.

“Do I need to put you on a short leash? Because I will trust me” Mckinley was right next to your face his breath cool on your burning skin.

O’Brian stood back, she was in shock at how fast he had pounced on you, how rough he was…she almost believed him when he mentioned putting you on a short leash. This man meant every word he said, they weren’t threats they were promises.

“DO I NEED TO PUT YOU ON A LEASH TANK?!” His voice boomed in the med bay.

“NO!” You spat through gritted teeth.

“No what?” Mckinley gave your arm a quick jolt upwards, you should know better.

“Ahhh NO CAPTAIN!” Your shoulder was on fire now, the muscles fighting to hold together and not pop.

“Good…” He relaxed his grip, slowly letting you correct it into place yourself. How generous of him. As you sat up you clocked Helen’s face, she looked mortified. You almost let out a laugh.

“Sorry about that Doc…give her the once over an we will be out of your hair” Mckinley spoke as if he hadn’t just wresleted you down on to the bed in front of her. She looked at him her mouth slightly open. She was speechless for once. You almost pitied her.

“It’s been fine, it only aches when its cold or when I over work it” You tried to fill the awkward silence. It worked Helen stuttered back to life.

“Ok…sounds like you need to do the physio exercises more often. I bet you’ve stop doing them…I know John has..I don’t even think he went to one session” She gave you a soft smile and for a moment you saw what Price saw in her. If you stepped back and tilted your head she was rather pretty. You glanced down at her hands, long, elegant, steady…you almost returned the smile but a single perfect solitaire diamond ring caught your eye as it flashed under the florescent lights. You felt as if your core was folding in on itself like a black hole. The bile rising in your chest you looked her in the eyes, she quickly glanced down a the ring, as if forgetting she was wearing it, her eyes darting back up to meet yours. Your face was giving you away again. Her mouth creeped up into a viciously sly smile, she knew that had cut you deep, a slow puncture that would fester. When had that happened?

“He did…he went to two, we had a row over him missing the last three on the drive down back to his for the weekend…” You blinked at her, your face now void of all emotion, blank. You watched as her top lip twitched.

“Did you now…he didn’t mention it…in fact he hasn’t really mentioned you…since you left…” She tilted her head, pretending to think of a an example. Her eyes creasing up like little pins.

You knew she was just trying to cut you, but it didn’t make the idea sting any less. You had left for her…no you had left so he would be happy, so that ring could be on her finger…it was a good choice…tacky and gaudy, just like her…you wanted to hurt her back with your words…but you would only be hurting Price.

Mckinley cleared his throat, you had almost forgotten he was in the room.

“Speaking of old Pricey, you and him got anything planned for when your next on leave?”

O’Brians face lit up, as if she had been hoping the topic of her and Price would be brought up. You glared at the ground willing it to open up to the fiery pits of hell where you would happily sink surrounded by other dammed souls.

“Well nothing crazy, but he’s mentioned he wants to redecorate some of the spare rooms in his house and I’ve only gone an stitched myself up and said ill help!” She rolled her eyes, a horsed laughed echoing off the bed pan. If Price didn’t have tinnitus already he would after listening to that none stop. McKinley rolled his eyes back at her, he shook his head.

“What are you like…hope its not the room Tank stayed in when she was last there?” He faked a frown. You could feel his eyes on you. He was stirring things up.

“Erm…oh I think it, the back room with the en-suite, the one with the view of the lake? Yeh I mentioned it would make a lovely nursery…all that natural light…” She wrinkled her nose. You looked down into your lap, just to double check she hadn’t gutted you open, because that’s how those words had felt. They had sliced at your flesh, worked their way into you into your system. A nursery? The thoughts exploded inside your mind. The tiny hand holding his finger, the little arms and legs being wrapped up in a blanket, soft curls kissed, and chubby cheeks ticked by his moustache…the high chair at the dining table just like you had mentioned…but the tiny hand, little legs and soft curls didn’t belong to your baby…it was a strangers baby…no it was Helens…its strawberry blonde curls and green eyes…nothing resembling John…you felt sick…you should of been happy for him…he was getting what he wanted…just not with you…

“Wow…a nursery? Thats exciting…but hey lets hope Price learns to dish out a bit of tough love…don’t want it turning out like this one do we!” Mckinley laughed, he shot you a look. You focused on the clock behind him.

“Hahaha…oh Bruce haha…Oh actually I meant to ask you Tank…does Luke have a sister? Tall, blonde, absolute stunner?” There was that fake confused look. She knew Luke only had brothers, she really was trying to maim you.

“No…he only has brothers…might of been one of there girlfriends…Ill ask him when I see him next…” You tried your hardest to smile back, it came out as mostly teeth. Mckinley was keeping that bit of information for later.

“Yah know, Price never crossed me as a family man…wonder what changed his mind…he’s got to be close to 45 by now?” Mckinley scoffed.

“39..”

Mckinley raised his eyebrow at you.

“What?”

“He’s 39…40 this year…I’d bought him a new lighter last year…don’t know if he still has it…” you sighed.

Helen knew exactly where that lighter was…close to his chest nestled next to his signature cigars. He was never without it, but she needed to turn the topic back to her and Price.

“Yeh hes the big four - oh this year…going to throw him a big surprise party at his house, invite his close friends and family. Perfect garden for a party, might take him away, hes mentioned he thinking of taking up golf…so maybe a golf resort?” She looked at you as if she was asking you for your option, your input. You kept your mouth shut…Price once said if he ever mentioned taking up golf to shoot him in the back of the knee cap…He thought Golf was for the old and bored and how fishing kept the mind young and focused…O’Brian was still talking.You tried to tune her out, go to your happy place, but your happy place had gone and gotten engaged…

********************

Ghost sat slouched in his seat, his legs spread wide arms folded. He was getting impatient now…the briefing was meant to have started 25 minutes ago. He had Rookies to be tormenting.

“Who we waiting on Price?” He sat up, leaning forward. His fist landing heavy on the table. Price knitted his brow, a headache starting to form.

“Waiting on Squad 8…” Just as he spoke, in piled the Squad led by Mckinley. His face a storm cloud. They had been sent to the wrong conference room…no doubt on purpose.

“Right! get seated you lot, lets get this over with shall we?” Mckinley snapped his fingers as the team fell into place all seated, all except one…Price looked around the room, had you took a seat right at the back in the dark? He couldn’t see with the protector on. Mckinley noticed him looking and knew who he was looking for.

“Dredd where is Tank?…she was right behind me…” His face screwed up. Dredd looked around the room then at Price as if for help.

“I don’t know, Sir…want me to go find her?” Dredd went to stand up, but McKinley stopped her.

“Ill find her…already warned her about wandering off…guess the short leash is needed.” He mumbled the last bit under his breath, but Price caught it. It set his blood to boil. As Mckinley crossed the room, Kyle stood up in front of him, his arm out stoppping Mckinley in his tracks.

“Ill go…don’t worry…” Kyle was already making his way for the door. Rather him find you than Mckinley, but just as he was a foot from the door, you walked in confused why they entire room was looking at you.

“Get sat down Tank…” Mckinley turned to stand at the front of the room. He watched as you found a seat in between Ghost and Kyle. He had a mind to tell you to get sat with your Squad, but the briefing had already run over, not to worry he would remind you later where you were meant to sit. Price smiled at your, hoping you would return it, you did but it didn’t reach your eyes.

***************

The brief was like any other brief - plans, updates, missions, a few HR complaints. Price watched as Kyle whispered something in your ear causing a faint smile to show. He smiled himself, he didn’t however appreciate Ghost resting his hand on your leg, they had just gone over this in the HR complaints, but then at the end just as Price was wrapping up Mckinley raised his hand.

“Sorry John, I completely forgot I have some good news…well good news for some…tomorrow at thirteen hundred hours Sqaud 8 will be shipping out of his shit hole…we will be setting up base in Moldova and then from there a small team of us will be going undercover in Transnistria…its a unrecognised breakaway state currently occupied by the Russian army, we are not there for them instead we will be looking for intel on a small terrorist cell known as the UNP.” Mckinley clapped his hands together he was excited, he wanted to see how far he could push the squad, he wanted results and he had a new toy.

Ghost noticed you shifting in your seat, a small part of you was glad about leaving sooner, you couldn’t bare to listen to any wedding talk or how the nursery was coming along. You wanted to get as much distance between you and this base as possible. You could finally let him be, he was clearly moving on…you would do the same…with Luke? You didn’t know…you looked down at the skeleton gloved hand that rested on your knee, maybe the Dr was right maybe you did belong with a “Monster” like Simon Riley. If he was a monster so were you. You could feel a set of eyes on you, you looked up at Ghost, his eyebrow cocked. A silent what as he shook his head at you. You could just make out the outline of a grin. You thought about how you would pay good money to see his smile for real. Very good money indeed.

The room started to pack up, eyes blurry, backs stretched and legs shook back to life.

“Captain?” You raised your hand. Price turned first. Mckinley arched his eyebrow.

“What’s up Tank?”

Your eyes shot from his to McKinley’s. Price realised you weren’t talking to him, he was still a captain, he just wasn’t yours.

*****************

“Tank can I see you for a moment…” Price caught you just as you were leaving the conference room. You looked around for Mckinley, why? Like you needed permission? Did you need his permission?

“Erm, yeh of course have to make it quick you know me always the last to pack…” the little inside joke stung you both. You both waited in silence for the room to clear.

You couldnt help thinking he was going to tell you about his engagement and the nursery…Helen had probably told him you had seen the ring. Maybe he had wanted to tell you himself first? You didnt want to know. You didnt want to hear it.

“Tank…I want to say sorry…”

Here it comes you thought…it was the drunk argument all over again. You stared at the ground. Eyes locked onto a stain on the carpet.

“Im sorry for yesterday…I went too far and I’m going to be apologising to Mckinley before you guys leave…I know your fuming with me but can we please talk? One on one…Just me and you? Not Captain and Sergeant, not even Tank and Price…just us…John and…Sasha?” He stepped closer, his hands up in surrender. He had savoured how your name, your given name had sounded in his mouth. It had been a very long time since he had used it. The name caused your head to spin. You remembered the first time you two had met he had called you that, Kyle had corrected him, but you had liked how it sounded. Captain John Price was saying your name, you were in complete awe of him. Now stood in front of you he was still the legendary Captain Price, but now he was also just another man that had let you down.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Im good” You avoided his gaze. So he moved closer.

“Are you really?”

“Yeh”

“Really?”

“YES”

“You sure?”

“YES!!” You snapped up at him. He knew how to push you. You weren’t ok, not even for a second, but you weren’t his problem anymore or at least that what you told yourself. To Price you would always be his problem, his priority, his purpose. The tester of his patience.

“Anyway…Me and Mckinley are the least of your worries…Congratulations by the way!” There was a tinge of sarcasm to your voice. Price looked puzzled? Congratulations?

“What are you on about least of my worries? As long as your with that nutter I’m going to be worried? Why congratulations?” He lowered his hands, he was close you could feel the heat coming off him. You missed that warmth. Focus.

“Really? That not why you have me in here? Wanted to break the news to me? Im sure Kyle is over the moon!” You rolled your eyes, but the look on his face suggested he really was clueless. He shrugged his shoulders to confirm.

“The engagement? I saw the ring on her finger…I’m happy for you…I’m really am. Maybe get the honeymoon over with before you change my…the back room into a nursery though…” You tried to smile but it came out wrong.

Price stood in silence for a moment, he needed to process a few things…engagement? Honey moon and a nursery? Had you hit your head?

“Whose finger? I’m honestly completely lost…an why would I change your room into a nursery?” Price folded his arms and tilted his head as he searched your face for an answer.

“Helen’s finger for Christ sake! The big fucking rock on her finger John! She was waving it in my face, talking about how your thinking of redecorating the back room, turning it into a nursery!” You titled your head back at him. The clueless look on his face turned to shock.

“Helen? I don’t know anything about a ring? An engagement ring? I haven’t asked her to marry me…we aren’t seeing each other anymore…I haven’t a clue what she’s on about and the “redecorating” was when she first came to visit…and said the room would make a nice nursery…I’d only just plastered the walls…well before it became your room kid…” Price put his hand on your shoulder, the heat from it sinking into your skin and deep to the bone. You looked up at him.

“I know we both said things that night…and it’s probably for the best…you have Luke…I have…well I don’t have anyone…but for one minute can we just pretend that none of that happened…please just for a minute…” He stroked your shoulder with his thumb.

“For one minute?”

“For one minute”

“Ok…”

“Ok”

Price pulled you into a hug, it took you by surprise, but you wrapped your arms around him as if by instinct, your hands finding their place on his back. You pushed your face into his chest, his chest hair poking you through his T-shirt. The smell of his aftershave and cigar smoke flooded your lungs, you didnt care you would happily drown and go willingly into the blue fo his eyes.

He gently kissed the top of your head. He wanted the world to stop. He wanted a lot of things.

“Where did we go wrong…” The words were out before he could even register saying them. Instant regret filled him, He knew dam well where it had gone wrong…You shot back, looking up at him , your lip curled up.

“Where did we go wrong? Really? Do you need reminding?”

“No…I meant…”

“Where we went wrong was this right here this was a mistake…I can’t do this…I have Luke…you have what ever you have with Helen…I have Squad 8…I have a new Captain…your not my Captain anymore…Im not your problem anymore…minutes up…” You fought back tears as you untangled yourself from his arms. His face shattered. As your tried to step back you felt a tug at your hip, you looked down expecting Price to have a hold of your belt…but it was your lanyard, it had tangle with his.

“Great…” you tried to untangle them, but you were just making it worse. Fat tears falling from your eyes, dampening your T-shirt.

“Here…stop your making it more tangled…” Price took over, they snapped back in the mechanisms. You were free to go. You turned and made you way for the door. This was stupid. The tears caught in your throat, making it hard to swallow.

“Sasha…”

Price called after you, but you ignored him, your hand on the door.

“SASHA!…please…I don’t want this…”

You opened the door, but just as you stepped out of the room you turned, your eyes welling up again.

“Well we don’t always get what we want do we John…”

As you walked away Price watched as your head dipped down low to avoid any on lookers. He bounded over to the door slamming it shut.

“FUCK!!!!” He threw his fists onto the table. That didnt go as planned…he had fuck up again. He ran his fingers through his hair, He would let you cool off…

He had till tomorrow afternoon to get this set right.

***********************

04:00am

You sat waiting for the transport shuttle to the air base. Mckinley had changed the leave time. Said it was on a need to know basis. You had text Kyle letting him now about the last minute change, he probably wouldn’t even be awake, but you had told him goodbye and you would see each other when you got back. It was better this way, you hated goodbyes.

Dredd nudged you with her elbow, when you looked at her she simply nodded to the right. You followed her eyes. Ghost. Well maybe one goodbye wouldn’t be so bad. You made your way over, Mckinley watched you like a hawk. He didnt mind, he was taking your away for a while.

“Not like you to be up this early kid…Mckinley stealing you away into the night?” He stood closer. You smiled. His mask was up over his nose, you could see his lips and the large scar that ran through them and up his face.

“Something like that…better this way I guess…least your here to wave me off or was you just making yourself a brew” you nodded to the mug, he held it out to you to take a sip, you took it gladly. Your face grimaced, it was straight black, two teabags you looked down at the mug, he definitely hadn’t noticed which one he had picked up.

“Bit too strong for you?” He chuckled.

“Are you?” You smiled.

“What?”

“Useless in bed?” You turned the mug round to face him, a little grin on your face. It had been a secret Santa gift for Kyle.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” He smiled. You had finally seen it in the flesh. His answer made you blush. You handed him back the mug. You brain fizzed.

“Well we’ve practically kissed now…haha” you could slap yourself. Why? Why had you said that?

“I guess we have…best not tell Price, he’ll have me hanged for treason…” Ghost took a sip from the mug.

“Well I wouldn’t want that…” You folded your arms, Price was a sore subject.

“Would be worth it…” He handed you the mug back, you took another swig, it was far too hot and far too strong but you drank it anyway.

“Looks like your rides here, listen stay safe in Moldova, be careful who you trust sergeant, people you know can hurt you the most” He looked over your head at Mckinley. You placed the mug back in his hand, resting your other on his chest.

“I will LT, thanks for the brew…” you gave him your best smile an he returned it. Ghost felt his heart double in size. When he had clocked you all packing up, he had thought about telling the others you were leaving early but decided to keep it to himself, keep you to himself.

He watched as you walked out to the transporter, loading your gear onto the the back. You wave as you boarded. He gave you a nod. Just as the transporter pulled away, Ghost clocked Kyle running out from the barracks…Price right behind. He threw his hands on his head, he looked gutted. Price looked worse. Kyle looked over at him.

“How long you been there LT?”

“Not long, had just enough time to share a brew with Tank before she shipped out..” He held the mug up to show them.

Price looked livid.

“She text me late last night but my phone was off…aww for fuck sake…” Kyle pulled his hood over his head pulling the strings tight.

Price knew the ins and outs of your new mission, he had spent all night looking over the plans and intel, it was dangerous, risky just how McKinley worked. It was an infiltration mission.

You weren’t coming back anytime soon.

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