#it just really sucks to me how his flop years have ruined his reputation for some people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jalapeno-princess · 4 years

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Chapter 2: Bump in the Road

(Yo man all these Mark pre debut pics got me feeling some type of way) (Why did nobody at my high school look like that idgi???)

Mark Tuan X Reader

Part of the Crazy Little Thing Called Love Series

Genre: Fluff, angst and awkward, experimental and extremely adorable smut

Word Count: 13.7K (Daaaaamn I really thought it was longer) (Still long as hell though)

Summary: Falling in love with Mark had to be one of the easiest things you have ever done in your entire life. However, the trials that came with loving him were all the more challenging and you didn’t know how much of it you could possibly take.

A/N: Okay so this one is all over the place (I say that about all my imagines recently) but seriously this one is kind of complicated but please bare with me. I also am not particularly a fan of how I ended this chapter but oh well. Happy reading! (The smut scene in here is actually more humorous and meant to be clumsy and inexperienced lol but honestly it sucks hahahahaha)

“Y/n! This is the mile run, not the mile walk! You have exactly twelve minutes to run four laps around the field. This is only your second lap and you’ve wasted seven minutes just dragging your feet through the dirt. Pick up the pace or else I’m failing you for not putting in effort!”

You released a frustrated grunt at your p.e. teacher’s words, but did as you were told. Back in elementary school, p.e. was one of your favorite subjects. You loved taking a break from your studies and getting to play all kinds of different sports; dodgeball, sham battle, volleyball, basketball and even doing all kinds of relay races—but middle school ruined the class for you entirely when you realized that you were no longer allowed to play around and have fun.

No. Middle school was serious business now. You were being graded on whether you changed out in to your uniform, how many jumping jacks you could do in one minute, how many times you could kick a soccer ball in to one of the field goals and today, you had to run one mile which you and the rest of your classmates have been preparing for every single day in the last two weeks. It wasn’t like you weren’t physically active enough to run all four laps; you joined cross country only two months after transferring over to Middle school from Elementary.

Running long distances were something you were used to. What you weren’t used to, was the fact that your boyfriend had p.e. during the same period you did. It’s as if fate wanted you to fail miserably. Over the last two years, Mark only grew more and more attractive and your mind always drifted back to when you first saw him going through physical changes when you were in the fourth grade. What you thought back then to be his beginning stages of puberty or so you’ve been taught in health was nothing compared to the change he was currently going through as of right now.

His features became even more prominent; his jaw was more defined, his eyebrows were sharper, his chubby cheeks were slimming down immensely and his lips have grown fuller. His voice that was once squeaky and high pitch was now deeper and more “manlier” in his words. He was even excited to tell you that he was slowly but surely growing facial hair.

It was hard for you to prevent yourself from laughing when he pulled you to the side one day at recess and showed you the two strands of hair on his chin—but it was also very cute. From the time he entered middle school, Mark would always complain about being scrawny and not masculine enough for someone in middle school. Although you were still too young to really understand what was expected to happen to both girls and boys while puberty transformed their bodies entirely, you had a feeling Mark was taking this whole “growing up” and “maturing” too seriously.

You were only two months away from moving on to the seventh grade which also meant that Mark was going to become a high school freshman. Nothing much has changed since you graduated from Elementary school and settled in to Middle school other than being able to see and spend more time with your boyfriend. From what the older boy would describe over and over to be some of the best years in school he has experienced so far—well, educationally.

All those years in elementary that he spent with you; learning more about you, getting to see that contagious smile of yours and being the main reason behind it, falling in love—or what he claimed his parents called “puppy love” with you, those had to be some of the best years of his life. Unlike you, Mark enjoyed school. He loved learning about all kinds of things. Right now, his favorite subject was social studies specifically because he and the rest of his classmates got to watch all these documentaries about some of the most important events to go down in history.

Since he had every intention on being with you as much as he possibly could, Mark brought up the suggestion that you’d joining an after school activity together. You had yet to tell anybody other than your older sister and a couple of your closest friends about your relationship in fear of your parents finding out and forcing you to break up with him. Your family was well aware of your friendship though and they genuinely really liked Mark.

For someone who was right about to turn fourteen-years-old, it was evident that he had a excellent head on his shoulders. You would always think back to the first time he introduced himself to you and how he told you his mom said he was a good boy in order to get you to trust him. He always had your best interest at heart—he did whatever it was for you in order to help you in any way possible, or just to make you happy.

Your happiness was Mark’s sole priority. Almost every single day, he would walk you back home before walking back to school for practice. On the days he had nothing scheduled for after school, he’d be over at your house playing video games with your older brothers or watching a movie with you out in the living room. It always made you smile seeing how well he got along with your family and although you had yet to really get to know his, Mark told you he was confident that they would love you just as much as he did.

In his three years of middle school, he had built quite the reputation of being the campus’ all around student. Although he could be shy and introverted towards students he wasn’t all too familiar with, he was very kind and thoughtful to anyone who had entered his path. It was also known throughout the school that Mark had one of the highest g.p.a.s in his grade. There were a few occasions that his teachers would have him tutor other students for extra credit and being the polite person his mother made sure she raised him to be, he always said yes—even if he didn’t particularly want to.

He was also very involved in sports and extracurricular activities; soccer, football, baseball, water polo, cross-country, student council—you name it. Mark just really enjoyed making new friends and taking on new challenges. Since you were the only one out of your siblings that would return back home once school was over, your parents recommended that you’d look for some kind of activity that you would find interest in. It was actually your boyfriend’s idea to join cross country with him; it was pretty much the only sport that he knew you wouldn’t get hurt in and that helped keep his mind at ease.

The last thing he wanted was something bad to happen to his favorite girl under his supervision. On the first day of practice, you didn’t think it was all that bad. Your coach had the team run five laps around the tennis court before calling it a day. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same thing for the rest of that week when you found yourself running up and down an extremely steep hill ten times. By the end of it, you felt as if you were about to throw up your lungs—it was terrible and what was even worse was the mocking laughter that came from a few of your teammates since you were the last one to finish.

Mark tried to stifle back a laugh, but it wasn’t a laugh to insult you in any way. The word proud didn’t even describe half of what Mark felt watching you put in so much effort to finish your rounds, no matter how visibly exhausted you were. He found himself giggling because he thought you looked so adorable with your flustered, pink cheeks, hair sticking out all over the place and the fact that you flopped on to the grass without even worrying about getting dirty. He waited for your coach to inform you all what he had planned for the rest of the day and allowed you some well deserved rest before pulling you up. As soon as he noticed that everyone was out of sight, he all but gently yanked you against his chest and placed a reassuring kiss on your cheek.

“Hey, ignore them. You’ve tried your best y/n. You’re the only six grader here—everyone else, they’ve been running for years. You only joined a week ago. I’ve seen a lot of them having to stop in the middle of a race because they’d get side pains from eating right before a competition. Hell, some of them even walk when no ones watching. So don’t beat yourself up about it too much okay? You have me. I’m here. I’m always going to be here—nothing to worry about baby. Let’s go. If we have enough time, I’ll buy you some frozen yogurt before I take you home.”

You beamed up at him as your heart fluttered hearing his words. Sure, the idea of him treating you to your favorite dessert excited you—especially after all you had to suffer through, but hearing that you had nothing to worry about because Mark had your back was such an amazing feeling. Even after all these years, not once had he ever shown you otherwise. He was practically glued at your hip and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You placed a small peck on the corner of his mouth before intertwining your hands together and you grinned to yourself when you saw the blush rise upon his cheeks.

“Can I get extra toppings?” He playfully squeezed your hand before bringing it up to his lips and placing a sloppy kiss on the back of it.

“Of course you can babe. God—you’re so cute you know that?”

Although there were some days you felt as if you were still too young to be in love or to know what love actually was, you knew in your gut that what you felt for Mark was extremely intense. Hell, if what was going on between the two of you wasn’t love, you didn’t think you’d actually get to experience it because you had no intention on being with anybody else. You were overjoyed with what you had with Mark.

From what you’ve seen in movies and television shows, what you’d hear your sister go in to detail about over the phone with one of her friends and just witnessing your parents interacting with each other, you had an idea of what being in love was. You saw the way Mark would look at you; as if time stopped whenever the two of you were together and all he wanted to do was look at you in admiration—in awe of your beauty. It was in his actions; he made it a point to continue his overprotective habit he started in Elementary school—walking you home to make sure you got back safe and pushing you on the inside of the sidewalk to keep you away from the road. It was in the way he would leave his friends to go be with you.

Every single time you’d have a rough day, you would find a candy bar or a bag of skittles in your backpack as his attempt to cheer you up. He might have said it repeatedly on a daily basis—even if he didn’t understand just how powerful that four letter word was, but you’ve witnessed the love he harbored for you with his many sacrifices and sweet gestures. Nobody would do even half of what Mark does for you if they didn’t love you and honestly, Mark’s love and just Mark in general was all you could ever need.

Even if he were to be the only friend you’d have in your entire school career, he was the only friend that mattered. If the butterflies that would swarm in your tummy whenever you’d see him were any consolation, that breathtakingly beautiful boy was the rightful owner to your heart. You did whatever you could in order to even pretend that you were going to put more effort in to your movements, but you were too busy watching Mark swing his bat at the baseball.

Out of all the clothes he owned, why did he have to wear a muscle tank? You didn’t think biceps came with puberty but you weren’t complaining. Since all of your focus was on your boyfriend, you failed to notice the rock that was dead center on the track until you face planted right on the dirt. You heard a few people calling out for you; you assumed one of them had to be your teacher while the others were your classmates—but the voice that was quick to grab your attention belonged to none other than the person who was to blame for your accidental fall.

“Shit—y/n are you okay? You ate the ground pretty badly. Are you hurt? Does anything hurt?”

He brought his hand up to your face and squeezed both your cheeks. Immediately, your boyfriend began to scan your face for any cuts or bruises and his brows furrowed once his eyes landed on the huge gash in your arm. You were always so clumsy and sometimes you failed to pay attention to your surroundings—however, this was the first time you ended up practically face planting on to the floor. Before you could say or do anything, he was picking you up from right of the ground and briskly walked over to your teacher.

She was obviously worried for numerous reasons, but you had a feeling she saw that you were distracted. If so, you could only hope she didn’t know exactly why—but it didn’t matter. What now had your full attention was the throbbing pain in your right ankle. You were no doctor, but the pain was excruciating and it didn’t move when you tried to twist it a little bit.

“Would it be okay for me to take y/n to the health room?”

She had no choice but to say yes—not that she planned on saying otherwise. Mark had you pressed tightly against his chest as he carried you bridal style; your teacher wasn’t born yesterday. Anyone could see that Mark wasn’t only volunteering to help you out because he felt bad. Also, the way he was holding you; so tightly and protectively as if he were to lose you if he set you down led everyone to believe that the you both were well acquainted with one another. As the two of you began making your way to the office, Mark pressed a sweet kiss on your nose all the while giving you a concerned look.

“My clumsy girl—how did you even fall? I saw the custodians smoothing out the track yesterday. Were you not paying attention? Did your shoelaces get untied without you noticing—“

“Stupid muscle tank.”

You were currently hiding your face against his chest, so your sentence came out as a mumbled whisper. As much as you hated to admit that your boyfriend was the reason you were probably minutes away from heading to the hospital, it was the truth. You were surprised that only now you made a fool out of yourself and got in to an accident. It was currently three months in to the last semester and you found yourself ogling over Mark with every chance you got during p.e.

There was one time your class and his class had to share the basketball court and instead of teaming up with his classmates and playing games with them, he decided to teach you how to make a jump shot for that entire class period. You secretly thought it was his excuse to have his hands grip your waist, but you never said anything or questioned him about it—and you were quite a fan of his touch, so you weren’t really bothered knowing that he needed to always have his hands on you.

“I didn’t quite hear that, what did you say?”

You shook your head, hoping he would just drop the entire thing. Even if you were to lie and give him another excuse, Mark knew you like the back of his hand. You’d feel pathetic if he knew you lost your balance because your focus was directed on him and his ever-changing body. He could tell right off the bat when you weren’t being completely honest with him.

“I think my ankle is broken.”

He looked down at you and frowned. Mark has been playing sports long enough to know what a sprained ankle looked like. To his dismay, the area was bruised and swollen. Yeah—you definitely twisted your ankle. Good going y/n. You didn’t realize just how popular Mark was throughout the school until you heard almost all the staff currently in the office greet him. You were in a trance; completely mesmerized with how friendly and respectful the older boy was. It was one of the things you admired about him the most.

He had so much confidence in his personality and he had every right to—he was the actual sun in human form, radiating positive energy everywhere he went. The nurse smiled up at the two of you as soon as you both entered the room, but her smile was quickly replaced with a look of worry and concern when she saw the look of discomfort on your face.

“Hello Mark dear, what brings you two here today?” He gently placed you down on one of the beds and grazed your cheek with his thumb before turning back towards the elderly woman.

“Y/n tripped and fell in p.e. and she thinks she might have sprained her ankle. I also noticed a couple of cuts and bruises on her arms and her left knee.”

“Oh no—that’s not good, let me take a look.” She pulled a rolling chair over to where you were lying down and reached for your leg. “Do you mind if I take off your shoe?” You shook your head in disagreement and allowed her to examine your swollen foot. You looked up at Mark and gave him a sad smile when you saw that he was already looking at you.

If this was under different circumstances, your heart would’ve fluttered with the way he was looking at you, but the pain was unbearable. She had you prop your foot on a few pillows while she began inspecting just how much damaged your fall did to your leg. You couldn’t help but hiss at one particular lift of your leg—not once in your life would you have ever thought you’d twist your ankle—it was even harder to believe that your boyfriend was the reason.

Sure, you knew you were at fault; if you just did as you were told and completed your run, then there was a chance you wouldn’t be having to ice your ankle as you watched the nurse call your parents. However, you weren’t really all that upset and it was probably because deep down, you knew you’d do it again and again. All you ever wanted to do was take as much time as you could gazing at your boyfriend in adoration while mentally tracing out his charming features.

Whether or not he was there, you were sure that you’d get distracted by him one way or the other. Your mind would always drift off to him—sometimes even when you weren’t aware of it. Honestly, the hollow and empty feeling you would get when Mark wasn’t around and the indescribably warm and ardent feeling that built up in your chest as he held you in his arms was enough proof that he was your purpose; the reason why you’d wake up excited every single morning knowing that you’d get to see him later on that day.

Your mood for the entire day depended on whether or not you got to see or hear from him. If this was how you felt for the older boy as a pre-teen; still having yet to gain more knowledge about life and it’s many ups and downs, you were excited to see just how much better things would get for you and your boyfriend as the two of you got older. Mark motioned for you to sit up so that he could take his place behind you; he had you lay your head on top of his lap in the hopes of making you feel the least bit at ease. He began running his fingers gently through your hair; twirling some stands in between his fingers and smiled lovingly at you.

“Hey—I’m sure you don’t want to hear this right now, but can I be the first one to sign your cast? Ow—what? I’m being serious babe—with the amount of times you’ve hit me just now I find it hard to believe you’re in any pain at all. Fine, fine, fine. No jokes about your temporary disability. Although, I’m sure hopscotch would be all the more challenging now that you can only use one leg—you know what? I think it’s time for me to head back to class. It’s obvious that someone isn’t all that appreciative for carrying her all the way here—“

To his surprise, you made sure the nurse was still busy on the phone with your mom before you pulled at the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips all but innocently against his. However, right as he was about to deepen the kiss, you pulled your mouth away before things could escalate any further.

“I’m very thankful for all that you’ve done for me and continue to do for me. Not just today—for every day I’ve known you for. Thank you. I’m very grateful for you. You mean so much to me Mark, I don’t think I say it enough.”

You could tell your words visibly moved the older boy by the way he couldn’t stop the huge smile from occupying his entire face. While Mark was a boy of both words and actions, you didn’t think you were all that smart to actually form sentences to describe your feelings for him. Little did you know, on the rare occasions that you did express to Mark how happy you were being able to call him your boyfriend—each and every single word tug on his heartstrings.

God, he was so in love with you.

Just like how it always was when the two of you were together, you and Mark were too caught up in your own little worlds that you failed to hear what was going to happen to you. The nurse walked back over to you and your boyfriend from behind her desk and gave Mark a knowing look. You wouldn’t have been surprised if she caught you and Mark being affectionate—and honestly you were beginning to care less about your teachers and faculty members finding out that you and Mark were in a relationship.

If they weren’t too favorable towards the idea of middle school relationships, it wasn’t like they could really do anything about it anyway. Who were they—or anyone else for that matter able to tell you that your feelings were invalid because you were “still too young”? Love was valid for anyone and everyone of any age.

“Y/n, your mom is on her way to take you to the emergency room. I don’t want to scare you, but I think you might have to get surgery on your ankle or else that part of your foot will be permanently paralyzed. As for you Mr.Loverboy, I think your job here is done. Thank you for helping y/n out, but it’s time to head back to class.”

You quietly sighed to yourself at the thought of not having Mark with you while you went to the hospital. The thought of surgery didn’t worry you as much as it should have; needles, knives, blades and anything sharp never failed to make your skin crawl. However, you were too upset knowing that Mark wasn’t able to be there with you. You knew he’d be able to take away any feelings of anguish and despair just with his presence alone. He was quick to notice your sullen expression and brought his hand up to tenderly cup your cheek.

Other than your older brothers and hanging out with your boyfriend’s friends, Mark was the only boy you really got to learn about. You didn’t think teenage boys were capable of such compassion and tenderness, but Mark wasn’t a normal teenage boy. He put the feelings and well-being of others before himself. Sure, he loved playing video games, reading comic books and going to the park to practice his free throws, but none of that could compare to the sheer happiness you would bring him.

“You’re going to be just fine okay? It’ll be over before you know it. I’ll try my best to make it there to you, but if I can’t—please remind your mom to call me when it’s over? I hate the thought of you suffering. Forget froyo this time baby, I’ll buy you a whole gallon of ice cream. I’ll see you later, I love you.”

He felt extremely shy having to kiss you in front of any adult; even more so now that the nurse was aware of your relationship, but he wasn’t too sure when he was going to be able to see you next. Mark would lose all his sanity when it came to you. You just had that effect on him; but it was something he was very fond over.

He loved being in love with you.

“I—um—I’m sorry Mrs.Kim, do you think you could turn around?” His cheeks were red from having to ask such a question and he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. The older lady giggled softly at his request and nodded in agreement before giving you and Mark your privacy. While grazing his thumb over your forehead, he lowered himself so that his lips were barely touching yours and finally did both of you a favor by connecting your lips together. His lips were soft and his kisses were gentle; he kept his hands to himself because he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave if he were to touch you.

Not wanting to get either of you in any trouble, he stole a few more fleeting kisses from the corner of your mouth before wishing the kind woman a nice day. “That boy must really like you. I’ve never seen someone his age so starry-eyed over a girl before. I must admit, the two of you are very cute together. I’m just assuming by your age that your parents have no idea about your relationship so—I guess it’ll be our little secret.”

You gave her a tired smile before murmuring a quiet “thank you.” As kind as she was, you were grateful when she left the room to talk with one of the other staff members. It was nice having people around, but you do enjoy the moments you had to yourself, by yourself. The only person you didn’t think you could ever get tired of being around was Mark, but that was a given.

Even if on some days he could joke around during the times he was supposed to be serious, no matter how much he could get on your nerves, you could never stay mad at him for too long. Almost fifteen minutes later, your mom was frantically storming through the office asking around for you; but once one of the counselors led her to the health room and she saw that you were taking a nap, she immediately relaxed and the nurse began to inform her of what happened.

Although it was expected, you needed to get surgery to help with the swelling and the tension. This also meant that you had to stay out of school for the rest of the school year. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy getting to stay home and having your siblings wait on you hand and foot. The only thing that really upset you was not getting to experience all the festivities that came at the end of the year. Mark in more or less words was an absolute angel.

He came to visit you after school was finished almost every single day. There were days that he even asked his mom to call him out sick so that he could tend to you as much as he possibly could. Both the Tuan family and your family were understanding when it came to the older boy going over to your house in order to spend time with you. Your sister let out snarky remarks and a couple of eyebrow raises here and there since she had a feeling what went on between you and Mark behind closed doors, but it was all in good fun.

You weren’t going to lie; it was extremely frustrating not being able to move around as much, Mark did whatever he could to help uplift your spirits and take your mind off of your leg. Once you and your mom arrived home the day after your surgery, your brothers were quick to want to write on your cast as soon as they realized you had one, but you were adamant on having Mark be the first one in doing so—even if you playfully threw punches at him when he brought up the idea.

“I can’t believe you actually let me write on here. I hope you feel better soon princess.-Mark”

He told you he wanted to write something more romantic but he didn’t want your parents getting suspicious as to what your real relationship with Mark was. From what he’s told both your mom and your dad and what they witnessed, he was like an older brother to you—and because he got the chance to watch you grow from this tiny, adorable kindergartener who was a Picasso in the making to the upcoming seventh grader who only grew prettier and sassier as she got older, they understood why he was so protective and so fond over you.

Over the course of a month and a half, you continued to do your school work at home; you kept your leg elevated on a couple of pillows and hardly ever left your bed unless you really had to. You were upset at the idea of not being able to witness Mark’s graduation, but you were even more worried knowing that he was moving on to high school. It didn’t really occur to you that your boyfriend was going to be a high school freshman—nor did you think that things were going to change in your relationship.

Nothing happened when Mark transferred over from Elementary school to Middle school and honestly, the distance helped your relationship thrive. If he was willing to walk twenty minutes in order to visit you two years ago when you were just about to move on to the fifth grade, and how he was eager to ditch both school and practice to give you any assistance you needing during your healing process, then you were sure nothing was going to change—or so you could hope. Your parents surprised you with a pair of crutches and informed you that your doctor said it was okay to get up and start moving around if you were physically and mentally ready to do so.

As much as your family loved helping you out, you understood that they all had their own things to worry about and having to tend to you practically every fifteen minutes was a lot to handle. You decided to keep it a surprise from Mark that you were going to be there for his graduation; your mom already told him that she didn’t feel like it was a good idea seeing as how you weren’t really ready to be mobile and the look of disappointment on his face really made both your stomach and heart ache. You never wanted to see Mark anything but happy. All he ever did was put others before himself; and the happiness of the ones he loved—you especially was his main focus.

You remember hearing a conversation between your sister and her boyfriend and he told her she deserved the entire world. For the entirety of that day, you tried to think about what exactly that meant. Instead of asking your sister in fear of her getting mad at you for eavesdropping, you asked your mom out of curiosity. It means that person really adores you and wants nothing but the best for you. That’s exactly how you felt about your boyfriend. Mark Tuan deserved the entire world on a silver platter and you were going to take the time to learn what you had to do in order to give it to him.

You did particularly enjoy knowing that he wanted you there—you would be upset if your favorite person just so happened to get injured and wasn’t able to see you on one of the most important days in your educational career. But it proved to you how important you were in Mark’s life. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of how much Mark adored and thought the world of you. The older boy practically had it tattooed on his forehead. You just loved being reminded of the love you had for one another.

On the day of Mark’s graduation, you and your family picked up some gifts for him and planned on sitting a few rows back from the stage so he didn’t see you just yet. Hearing your principal describe Mark as such a hardworking, dedicated student who was so caring and quick to lend a hand to whoever needed it made you feel proud of him. Today was supposed to be a happy day for him, yet his smile didn’t completely reach his eyes and his shoulders were slumped. Your sister playfully nudged you knowing that you were the reason for his sullen demeanor.

Once the graduation ceremony was over, everyone made their way towards the football field in order to congratulate the graduates. It was hard to describe the feeling that built up in your chest when Mark’s eyes landed on you. Although his entire family came out to congratulate him, it was obvious he wasn’t all that happy and honestly, he looked as if he couldn’t wait till the entire thing was over. However, as soon as you came in to view, his jaw dropped and he wasted no time in running toward you and picked you up as if you were as light as a feather.

Neither of you even seemed to care about your crutches falling to the ground; he was just feeling so many different emotions in that moment to even bother about anything or anyone. Mark was extremely grateful that his grandparents flew all the way from Taiwan to come and see their grandson shift over to high school—graduation of any sorts was a huge milestone in their family—but he was most excited for your appearance. He didn’t even give himself time to think before smashing his lips against yours out of pure happiness.

“You came—I can’t believe it, you don’t know how much this means to me—God, you’re so amazing. I love you so much—“ If you didn’t hear the cough that you assumed came from your mom, you would’ve continued to kiss him; but it was in that moment that you realized you and Mark weren’t alone and he just gave away your relationship.

“Oh—I—um—I—I’m in love with your daughter. I hope you’re not mad.”

You didn’t even want to look at either of your parents; you were sure they either had looks of anger or disappointment on their faces and the last thing you ever wanted to do was go against their wishes. However—your relationship with Mark was the only thing you had no problem breaking your parent’s trust for. He whispered a mumbled apology in your ear and was right about to say something else, but your mom was quick to respond to his sudden outburst of love for you and her next few words shocked you.

“I know. I’ve actually known for a while now. You’re not particularly as discreet as the two of you probably think you are. I wanted y/n to be honest with me instead of forcing it out of her. You’re a good kid Mark. Although I still feel as if you both are too young to be dating, I see how much you care for my daughter and as a mother, that’s all I could ever want for her. You make y/n extremely happy. Thank you for taking care of her. With that being said, there will be some ground rules for your relationship—but we’ll talk about it another time. Congratulations again sweetheart.”

Your family stuck around for a couple more minutes—allowing you enough time to celebrate Mark’s big accomplishment. When your parents did decide it was time to go, you said your goodbyes to Mark and his family before leaving a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Congratulations again baby.”

You got an earful in the car while the six of you made your way back home, but you were just so content that you no longer had to hide your relationship with Mark from your parents any longer. It took one more month for your ankle to completely heal and for the rest of that summer, you and Mark found yourselves going anywhere and pretty much everywhere your hearts desired—well, anywhere your parents allowed you to go. One of their rules was that you had to be under adult supervision, but it was expected.

Your sister and oldest brother got a kick out of having to take you to the arcade or to the movies. The love you held for Mark continued to grow the more time you spent together. You learned something new about him every single day. His favorite color was blue—specifically navy. He loves ketchup but hates tomatoes and his favorite tv show was Full House. Sure, any time spent with your boyfriend never failed to send you over the moon, even if the two of you were doing nothing at all.

You’d rather do nothing with him than to do something so exciting with anyone else. But it was in the moments where he’d tell you his dreams and worries for the future that you savored the most. Knowing how introverted Mark could be, it must’ve took him a lot of courage to tell you about his fears and doubts and to trust you with his deepest secrets. Your seventh and eighth grade years went by in the blink of an eye. If you were being honest, you didn’t particularly care of any of it.

There wasn’t much excitement that came with middle school and you couldn’t wait to move on to the next chapter of your education. Mark raved about how exciting high school was. He claimed it was the most fun he’s had in his eleven years of being in school. There was more freedom for High school students; they could eat lunch wherever they wanted, they no longer had to wear uniforms, there were more sports that Mark wanted to get involved in and there were a lot more places on campus that he could study at other than the library.

To your dismay, your fears of growing distant with Mark came true as soon as he started high school. Being the adventurous and athletic guy he has always been, it was only natural for him to join practically ever single sport his school had to offer. High school sports were a lot more different than middle school. The athletes were expected to give all their time and effort in to the sport that they played; this meant more of Mark’s time spent on the field and in the gym and less time with you.

You only really got to see him on the weekends and you tried your best to show that it didn’t bother you—but you did worry that he would one day forget about you completely. There was a point where you wondered if you and Mark should take a break; you were at that age where you understood how to manage someone’s priorities and what needed to come first. It took a while to accept it, but you were no longer Mark’s main priority and it did hurt you—but there was no way you’d allow yourself to interfere with that part of Mark’s life.

What really made you sad was that Mark didn’t think anything was wrong—but why would he? He was too busy experiencing the dream life; he became captain of the baseball team only a month after he joined. He was the first freshman to ever be captain and you were elated that he was having a good experience so far. However, you couldn’t stop the tiny voice in your head telling you that Mark was better off without you. It was something that began to plague you more and more each day.

The last thing you ever wanted to do was be a burden to your boyfriend. On the days you did get to hang out with him, all your worries seemed to disappear. Mark was extremely apologetic with not being able to see you as often and he did remind you that he hated not getting to spend time with you. That’s the reason why you allowed yourself to stay with him. With time, you knew things would get better.

It wasn’t like he was purposely ignoring you—when he did have free time, he always called you and sent you text messages to see how you were doing. The effort he put in, no matter how tired he probably was never failed to tug on your heartstrings. You loved Mark and you knew he loved you. That’s all you really needed. After what felt like forever, you finally completed middle school and made your way in to High school. Mark was more than happy to welcome you with open arms and to show you around the campus.

On your first day of school, he barely even gave you two seconds to take in your surroundings before introducing you to his group of friends. They all seemed to be very friendly and outgoing; they were quick to offer you help if ever you needed it. Your boyfriend was extremely excited now that he was going to see you more; and he began planning out so many things with you. He was quite the gentleman; seeing as how he got his license back in his sophomore year, he would pick you up from school every morning and if he had the time, he would drop you back home.

He would walk you to class and even waited outside so that he could go with you to lunch or to your next class. His friends would tease him about it, but he would even feed you out of habit. You were able to attend some of his practices and even a couple of his games and it didn’t take you long to understand why Mark enjoyed being in High school so much. There was just a lot to get involved in and be excited for. At least once a month, there were pep rallies held and it was always so much fun.

Your High school was also very supportive and involved when it came to sports. The seats would always fill up at a lot of Mark’s tournaments and you knew seeing all those people in the crowd gave him the motivation to do his best. His friend Jackson joked around about you wearing his jersey so that girls would know he was in a relationship and back off. You didn’t know that your boyfriend had girls chasing after him, but you weren’t surprised.

He was a sight to behold; plus, he was so gentle and sweet. He was soft spoken and just so happened to be the MVP for both the basketball and football teams. Every time you attended one of his games, your cheeks would get sore from how many times you would smile hearing all these people cheer him on. He was quite the popular guy, but he always was. Mark stood out from the crowd whereas you believed you blended in, but not in a good way.

It wasn’t until Jackson made that comment did you find yourself observing the way that other girls would look at him or interact with him. A lot of these girls were very pretty—prettier than you thought you were and you soon grew very insecure about being the lucky person who Mark was in love with. You felt as if you needed to change your look to impress him—you didn’t think skinny jeans, band tees and converse shoes were going to cut it anymore.

Most of these girls wore dresses, curled their hair and put on makeup. It was only a matter of time that Mark would come to the realization that he wanted someone more mature who actually took care of themselves. You were too focused on having to worry about other girls that you failed to notice Mark never batted an eye at any girl that would approach him. His heart has been yours since the day he approached you over ten years ago.

You were the most beautiful girl in his eyes and you’ve captivated him in ways that he never thought he was capable of experiencing. Mark believed he was one of the lucky ones. It’s rare to hear about couples who started dating when they were really young that were still together. Mark knew even at seven years old that you were going to be someone very special in his life.

Actually, he was growing irritated every time a girl would come up to him because he made it very clear with how he would always hold your hand or wrap his arm around your shoulder that he was in a relationship. At first, he did like the attention he was receiving for his athletic talents—but when it came to romantic feelings, you were the only person he wanted to receive attention from. He did feel bad letting girls down, but he was more afraid of you growing insecure if you were to see just how many girls had a crush on him.

There was nothing you had to be insecure about—nobody held a candle to you. There’s a saying, “nobody’s perfect”—Mark believed it was complete and utter bullshit. You were nothing less than perfect in his eyes. As soon as he received a team jacket with his last name and number on the back, he gave it to you and asked you to wear it so that everybody in school knew that he was yours and that you were his. You never gave him any reason to be jealous—you only made three friends and even then, they weren’t ones that you’d spend time with other than when you had class with them.

You were always with Mark and his friends and you’ve grown very close to them in a matter of days. Your freshman year was a great start to your high school experience and as excited as you were to become a sophomore, you weren’t excited knowing that this was Mark’s last year in High school. He never told you his exact plans once he were to graduate, but you did hear his mom talking on the phone with his grandmother one day when you were at his house and you heard her mention that he was looking at a University in Massachusetts that specialized in engineering. You asked him about it a few times; out of sheer curiosity but he always seemed to redirect the question as if he didn’t want to answer it.

A part of you felt as if you deserved to know—it was just as much your future as it was his, but you didn’t want him to get annoyed with your continuous pestering. In your first semester, health was your first class and to your delight, BamBam and Yugyeom had it during the same period. It was nice seeing familiar faces and Mark’s friends always make you feel so safe. However, you were soon regretting your excitement when your teacher began covering sex. You and Mark had yet to get intimate and honestly, sex wasn’t something you were all that interested in just yet.

In fact, from what you’ve learned in class so far, you were terrified. BamBam and Yugyeom always made dirty comments about you and Mark—they even had the audacity to ask if you guys did it yet. You ignored them because it wasn’t any of their business, but you couldn’t help to wonder if they asked Mark and what he said about it. Did he want to have sex? He had to at least thought about it once or twice; you learned in health that boys desire sex earlier than girls do.

There were a few instances where your make out sessions would get a little too heated and Mark would excuse himself to go use the bathroom. It didn’t make sense to you why he always seemed to have to pee whenever the two of you would kiss, but after taking health, you realized that he wasn’t in the bathroom for the reason you thought he was. The more you learned about sex, the more curiosity ate at your conscience. Was it as amazing as people claimed it out to be? Did it hurt as much as you felt it would? What happens after the first time a girl has sex? It didn’t take too long for your curiosity to get the best of you and you wanted to know your boyfriend’s outlook on it.

One night, you were sleeping over the Tuan’s residence in order to keep your boyfriend company. His family went to Taiwan for his cousin’s wedding but because he had a tournament, he wasn’t able to go. At first, your parents were hesitant to let you stay over because they didn’t like the thought of you and Mark being alone—but they trusted you and they trusted your boyfriend. Sometimes more than they trusted you.

The two of you were cuddling up on his bed, watching a movie; his thumb was gently grazing your thigh and you didn’t think much of it. Skin ship was something normal in your relationship and this wasn’t the first time he had his hand on your leg. However, there was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never experienced before. You felt as though you wanted him to bring his fingers higher up to where there was now a warm and tingling sensation. Neither of you expected it, but a sex scene came on out of no where and it felt awkward watching the two characters naked and pressed up against one another.

You could tell it was also affecting Mark with the way he sat up and pulled his hand away from you. You decided that you would use this time to ask him the question that’s been on your mind the day your class was learning how to put a condom on a wooden penis.

“Hey Mark?”

He paused the movie before turning towards you—giving you his full attention. You quickly picked up on how red his ears were and it was something you’ve discovered would happen when he was either embarrassed or flustered. He hummed in curiosity before bringing his hand up to your cheek.

“Do you—have you ever—do you want to have sex?”

The fit of coughs that fell from his throat made you feel like a child; stupid BamBam and Yugyeom for telling you that sex was a natural way of life and that Mark told them that the two of you already had sex on multiple occasions. You’ve been with Mark long enough to know he wouldn’t do such a thing. Whatever went on with you and Mark stayed between the two of you. He was just as defensive when it came to his privacy. He looked at you in shock before taking his hand off of your cheek and bringing it up in to his hair.

“Wait—what? Sex? Are you asking me—I mean—right now? Wait—sex? You want to have sex—please correct me if I’m wrong babe—are you insinuating that you want to have sex or—where is this coming from—“

It was always a sight to see whenever Mark would get shy or flustered if you were the cause behind it. He was eighteen years old now and it made you laugh that even as an adult, he still had his childlike qualities to him. You could only hope he’d continue to be a child at heart because you’ve grown to learn that sometimes life isn’t all that kind to us and we tend to lose track of ourselves if we become too serious. Mark looked as if he was on the verge of a mental breakdown; so you crawled over to him and did the unthinkable—you sat on his lap and wrapped your legs about his back while you brought your hands around his neck.

You were well aware that you were stepping in to new territory. This was the closest you’ve ever been to your boyfriend and it was a closeness you were quickly growing to enjoy.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean for it to sound like I’m asking you straight out to fuck right now—“

“Woah, language missy—“

You playfully rolled your eyes before thumping his forehead for interrupting your confession. “I was just curious if you wanted to have sex—theoretically. We’re learning about sexual intercourse in class right now and I just—I don’t know. I’m sure you have your needs and desires or carnal urges as my teacher refers it to—you’ll be going off to college soon so I was just wondering if it ever crossed your mind that you wanted to have sex—and if you’d want to do it with me.”

Your last words caused him to look at you as if you grew another head. He couldn’t process the idea that you felt he would want to have sex with anyone else other than you. Once he finally decided to take a look at you and saw you biting your lip in anticipation of his response, he all but gently gripped at your chin and pulled you in to a searing kiss. He playfully licked a few stripes against your bottom lip and nibbled on the top teasingly before pulling away.

“Look at me.”

This all felt like deja vu. You were reminded of the day back in elementary when you confessed your feelings for Mark and refused to look up at him. You could feel your heart racing because of the proximity and because you knew he was probably going to be upset with the fact that you were questioning his future plans.

“Babe, you’re crazy to think there’s ever going to be anyone else in my life for me to do anything with other than you. I’ve loved you and I’ve been in love with you for over ten years now. You’re stuck with me y/n. I plan on loving you for the rest of my life. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. You silly girl—why would you even think I’d want to do something so important with anyone else? You’re my person baby—my soulmate. Yes, I’ve been thinking about sex a lot these days—especially because I can never seem to take my hands or eyes off of you. You only get more and more beautiful as you get older and it’s getting harder for me to resist wanting to finally relish in our love together in that way. I just wanted to wait for when you were ready. I’m sure the idea of losing your virginity is scarier as a girl than it is for a guy—but just know that when that time comes, I’m going to take such good care of you okay? Wait—BamBam and Yugyeom didn’t set you up to this did they?”

It was your turn to look at him in confusion and he giggled softly at your expression. You wouldn’t have been surprised if they did talk to him about what they’ve been bugging you about for the last three weeks. They were all guys; you were sure they were all excited talking about their sexual lives amongst each other. It was something you assumed all guys did.

“Those assholes weren’t bothering you too much about were they? I’ll kick their asses if they ever made you feel uncomfortable. They told me they had class with you and then they began asking me all kinds of questions about our sex life and if we did it yet. I guess for guys, it’s a competition to see who does it the youngest or the most—it’s really stupid if you ask me. Sex is supposed to be romantic—making love to someone is more than just penetration and reaching an orgasm. It’s two people connecting on a spiritual and intimate level. Sex is just a body count to the guys; to me it’s something so special. To be honest with you, it doesn’t matter how old we are when we both agree to have sex—just know that I’ll wait however long you need me to baby.”

With the way he was looking at you so lovingly; holding so much tenderness in his eyes, you were just seconds away from saying fuck it and giving him what he’s been wanting for some time now. Like Mark said—sex was more meaningful than what a lot of people painted it out to be. You didn’t really look at it like that, but hearing him speak so passionately about it sent off a burning sensation in your chest. A part of you was very nervous, but it was expected. You were still learning about your lower region—hell, you were still getting used to menstruating. You didn’t think you were desiring sex as of right now but that was because you didn’t understand it completely. You didn’t know what took over your body in that moment, but you found yourself leaving sloppy kisses along Mark’s jaw while running both your hands through his soft, curly locks. He let out a soft sigh and his hands made their way down to your lower waist.

“Baby, what are you—“

“It’s time we get BamBam and Yugyeom off our backs. Let’s give them something to talk about shall we? I—I want to be one with you Mark. I don’t want you thinking I’m doing this for your sake; I’ve actually have grown curious to see what sex is actually like and I’ve always wanted to take things further in a sense with you. I trust you Mark—with my entire being. I’m safest with you. I’m yours if you’ll have me baby.” The noise that came from the back of his throat wasn’t one you’ve heard before. It was a mixture of a growl and what you assumed was a moan—it was extremely sexy.

“Fuck—I—you’re otherworldly you know that? I love you so much—so so much. I got you y/n. I’m gonna take really good care of you okay? Just tell me if it hurts or if you want to stop okay? I’m so fucking excited.”

The laugh that fell from your lips hearing how eager he was to finally make love to you was natural. He was so adorable—what did you do to deserve him? It was a question you always seemed to ask yourself even after a decade of knowing him for. You didn’t doubt that he was going to be gentle with you during the process of taking away your innocence. It was obvious that he was nervous—he had no idea what to do himself. This was going to be a learning experience for the both of you.

As he reconnected his lips with yours and tightened his grip on your waist, you could feel the adrenaline running through your bones. You were about to give yourself—your body, mind and soul to the breathtakingly beautiful boy in front of you. Your relationship was going to change but you knew it was in a good way. Goosebumps began to rise on your skin with every graze against your arm and every moan he hummed against your lips. There was a fire building up inside of you that you were dying to put out and you had yet to learn what it was exactly. Less than five minutes in to your steamy make out session, you felt something hard press up against your thigh and the feeling made you giggle. “Mmm—Mark—“

He pulled away gently in fear that he was doing something wrong. Your sudden mumbling made him worry; was he taking things too fast? “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just—every single time we’ve made out in the past—you’d leave to use the bathroom. You never actually used the bathroom while you were in there—did you?” He shook his head in disagreement while a cheeky smirk rose on his face.

“I’m gonna tell you this right now; I get hard just by the thought of you alone baby. So anytime you touch me, hug me or kiss me—I get kind of excited, if you know what I mean.” The two of you laughed at how blunt he could be but the playful banter was quick to end as soon as he felt you palming him through his sweats.

“Shit y/n—“

You continued your movements while bringing your face in the crook of his neck. Everything about your boyfriend was so flawless; so pretty. His skin was so soft and milky—his neck was long and you wanted nothing more than to leave love bites along his nape, letting everyone know his bed was spoken for. You grazed your teeth right above his collar bone and absentmindedly began grinding your self against his hardened member. You must’ve been doing something right with how he was helping guide you along his girth and by the way he was growing vocal the longer you continued.

He brought his hands up in to your shirt and you shivered at how cold his fingertips felt against your skin. When he started to play with your bra, you had an idea of what he wanted to do and so you unclasped it in one swift movement—taking it off and flinging it somewhere in the room. You then brought his hands up from your lower back to your breasts and squeezed them all but lightly. It was your turn to let out a moan—the feelings of his hands gripping on your perky mounds only made the coil in your stomach tighten. You never really thought much about your boobs; they were a part of women bodies—you weren’t someone who necessarily obsessed over them.

There were girls in your p.e. class that would compare their bra sizes and some of them would grow excited if they noticed their boobs got bigger. You didn’t think you had the biggest breasts ever, but then again you were still going through puberty. What you had thought may not have been big in your eyes as a completely different story with your boyfriend.

He never had the guts to admit it to you, but there were times where he had to force his stare away from your chest. It was as if your breasts grew overnight and he wasn’t complaining at all. Every time you wore a tight shirt to school, he had to bite back his tongue. He loved every single thing about you; but your breasts were now one of his favorite body parts of yours. He began to show love to your mounds—massaging and kneading them while pinching and twisting your nipples. Right as you were going to make a comment to get him to continue his movements, he playfully jiggled both your breasts and earned himself a punch on the shoulder.

“Ow—what was that for? I’ve been dreaming about the day I got to play with these pretty titties of yours. They’re so big and bouncy—you know, I’ve heard from some of my friends that it’s normal for women to be rough during sex but I don’t think this is what they meant. Having you hit me isn’t the way I’d be getting bruises tonight. Fine, fine—I’ll stop. You’re no fun. I hope you know I plan on fondling and playing with these every time I get the chance so start getting use to it. Would it be okay if—I um—can I take off your shirt now?”

Did he really go from confidently playing with your breasts to shyly asking if he could take your shirt off? He was so whipped for you. As soon as you pulled your shirt off and tossed it to the side, his mouth widened in shock. It was one thing to cup and fondle your sensitive buds, but it was another thing to actually look at them. How were you so perfect? There was absolutely no flaw on you.

“Close your mouth Tuan, you’ll catch flies.” You knew he was about to retaliate so you decided to tug at his shirt with every intention of him discarding it.

“Someone’s eager.” He wiggled his brows contently.

“Shut up.” One by one, every piece of clothing was now scattered throughout his room. What you felt as you gazed at him with nothing but his underwear on was hard to fathom in to words—sure, you’ve seen him shirtless whenever the two of you would go to the pool, the beach or after practice but this was the first actual time you’d be seeing him naked and bare.

“You’re so hot.”

His cheeks grew pink at your compliment—anytime you were to tell him how handsome, intelligent, talented and hardworking he was never failed to fluster the older boy and you would purposely say or do whatever you could to see him so bashful.

“Well—then, that must make you fucking sexy. You’re so breathtakingly beautiful my love. God, your body is a wonderland. I can’t wait to be inside of you—ah, hold on. I’ll be right back.”

A smirk rose on your face watching him practically run out the door as your eyes fell to his cute little butt. It wasn’t really hitting you that you were just moments away from losing your virginity; you were now more excited and ready to give yourself completely to your boyfriend. What should have been some of the most nerve-wracking minutes of your life waiting for him to return and being alone with your thoughts were eerily calm. Less than a minute later, he came in with a tiny piece of foil in his hands and from your lessons in health, you were sure it was a condom. He held it up as if it was a trophy of some sort and the concept caused you to giggle.

“I had to dig in my parent’s drawer for this. It’s fucking gross thinking that they’re still doing it at their age—“

“Only you could ruin a sexual moment with such an unnecessary comment. Just hurry up, put the damn thing on and fuck me already. I’m going insane here.”

“Wow, never in all my years of knowing and loving you would I have ever thought you had such a naughty mouth on you. I love it. Your wish is my command baby.”

He made his way on to the bed, crawling towards where you were waiting for him up against the headboard. You kept your eyes on his—he held so much emotion in them. Lust, excitement, happiness, worry, nervousness—losing your virginity was a huge deal and he wanted to make sure you had an amazing experience. Right as he took his underwear off and you saw his hardened erection, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.

It wasn’t because of his size—no, definitely not. You didn’t have anything or anyone to compare him to, but he was extremely big in your opinion. His cock was long and pretty girthy; you didn’t know how it was supposed to fit inside of you but you were so ready to finally find out.

“Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy hearing that contagious laughter of yours—especially when I’m the reason behind it. But I don’t know how I feel hearing you laugh right after I pull out my dick.”

“It’s not—I’m not—it’s just—penises are really ugly.”

“Babe seriously?”

“What? I’m being honest. Yours is an exception though. I guess it’s attractive? M—Mark stop! Please—I’m—sorry—babe!!”

He was quick to pin you to the bed with one hand while tickling your sides with the other. You didn’t think sex—or what you were told was foreplay could be all that humorous, but it was your fault you were so ticklish. Thankfully, Mark seem to have read your mind and placed a sloppy kiss the corner of your mouth. Hearing him rip apart the conform wrapper brought your attention to his pelvis and you could physically feet your throat choke up.

He kept eye contact with you as he rolled the thin rubber on to his cock. You had a feeling he was more nervous than you were; his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and his movements were shaky. Once it was finally on, he lined himself up against what he believed was your entrance. His lips were rough against yours—his tongue was needy; the need to kiss you with so much passion and fervor was all he could think about.

“Ready baby?” You gave him a gentle smile—hoping you weren’t underestimating him and what he was capable of.

“Remember, if it hurts or if you want to stop, just let me know.” Since you were well aware that he was right about to make his way inside of your soaking walls, you took in a deep breath to calm yourself down. However, the penetration you were expecting never came.

“Wait, what the hell? Where’s the hole?” This earned him a look of confusion and you had to cry out in laughter—honestly you were growing to believe that tonight wasn’t going to end the way you anticipated it would.

“Y/n, I’m gonna need you to help guide me, I have no idea where your vagina is.”

It took your boyfriend almost five minutes to finally line himself at your core—two of those minutes were filled with laughter and snarky comments; more so from you about how unprepared the two of you really were but it made tonight all the more memorable. He kissed you with all the passion and energy he had in his body and it wasn’t until you felt him finally make his way in to your pussy did you understand why he did that.

The stretch was exceedingly uncomfortable; more uncomfortable than it was painful, but still. It felt as though someone was pushing their hand down on your clit with so much pressure and it wasn’t a feeling you particularly cared for. Your boyfriend—just like he always seemed to in every single situation picked up on your uneasiness. He brought one hand up to cup your cheek as the other was placed in to your hair.

“You okay?”

“Mhm, just a little uncomfortable. How are you feeling?”

“Incredible. You’re so fucking tight and you’re practically soaking.”

“Is that a good thing?” He nodded adamantly and smiled at your innocence.

“Well, it feels fucking insane. You feel so amazing. I—uh—please tell me when I can move. You feel so good baby—but like I said, I’m not doing anything until you give me permission. Tonight is all about you.”

After you non-verbally gave him the okay to quicken his movements, he started to pump himself in and out of you. You weren’t going to lie; the first couple of thrusts felt like hell and you were worried that there was a chance he could have been doing something wrong since it was his first time also. But soon, the pain turned to pleasure—sweet, fervent pleasure. You both began to moan together in unison at how wonderful it felt.

There were so many kisses shared between the two of you—some rough and needy while others were sensual and feather-light. His thrusts only fastened and grew harder the longer you continued your love making session. Countless love confessions, sweet nothings and dirty fantasies were thrown back and forth to each other.

All-in-all, it had to be one of the best nights in your entire life. Albeit a little clumsy and hesitant at some points, Mark fulfilled his promise of allowing things to escalate at your pace and ultimately taking good care of you. You could tell he was holding back a lot of the time not wanting to harm you if he acted on his desires. Once you both reached your highs, Mark left you for a little while and came back with a wash cloth and a water bottle. You were too exhausted after spending almost two hours exploring the depths of one another.

Mark loved on your body like a man starved; he left multiple hickeys across of your chest and on your lower stomach. After cleaning you up, putting one of his shirts on you and giving you a pair of his underwear while he also got prepared for bed, he took his place right next to you. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist while he placed his cheek against yours.

“So, is sex everything you could ever hope it out to be?” He beamed down at you while furiously nodding his head.

“It was so much better than I was already expecting it to be. You were perfect baby. That had to be one of the best experiences I’ve had ever. I’m gonna have to make love to you at least ten times a week from now on. God—I can’t even describe in to words how much I love feeling you wrapped around me and how beautiful you look right as you were about to come. How was it for you though? I didn’t hurt you too much did I?”

You shook your head and left a quick kiss right above his eyebrow. Less than twenty minutes ago, he was pounding his dick inside of you as if he had vengeance against you. Now he was treating you as though you were such a delicate flower. Mark Tuan—always the charmer.

“No, not at all. That was honestly so mind blowing and I know it’s because you were trying your best to make sure I was having a good time. You always put others before yourself and tonight was no exception. I’m also going to second that notion—I love how you stretch me out. It felt so good. I love loving you and being loved by you. Thank you baby.”

From that night on, you and Mark had a sexual awakening. Whenever you had the chance, the two of you would relish in your love no matter where it was. There were countless times where you’d find yourself sucking him off in a janitor’s closet or being pressed up against the lockers in the boys locker room; Mark took advantage as team captain having access to the keys and took you up against every surface the locker room had to offer.

Unfortunately the closer Mark got to graduating, the more time he took signing up for scholarships, applying to many different collages, taking up as much extra credit as he could and completing his senior project. He finally admitted to you that he had no plans on staying in your town for college. The only thing holding him back was the thought of leaving you.

All he really wanted was to stay with you and wait until you finished graduating so you could both attend the same college together, but you refused to let him give up on his dreams and being able to experience better opportunities that your small town didn’t have to offer. You knew there were so many colleges out there with better sports teams and even better choices of majors that he could choose from.

Mark always wanted to be either an architect or an engineer and you were very supportive of each and every one of his endeavors. However, you hated overthinking what would happen to your relationship if he did get accepted to a university in a different state. You knew the love you had for one another was undefeatable; indestructible.

Deep down in your heart you believed your relationship with Mark wouldn’t falter even with 5,000 miles in between the two of you. But the doubt that weighed heavy on your heart taunted you—what if he were to get frustrated with the distance? What if he didn’t want to be alone and found someone new at his university? What if he decided that your love didn’t mean as much to him anymore? You tried your best to stop the negative thoughts from taking over, but he was never around anymore to prove otherwise?

As dramatic as it sounds, if you were to lose Mark, you’d probably die of a broken heart. He loved you more than life itself; there was no doubt about it—but sometimes love just wasn’t enough. It was the last semester and you secretly wanted the days to go by slower to prolong Mark’s stay. You couldn’t help but feel selfish wanting him to change his mind about leaving you—but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing you were the one to prevent him from having a fun college experience.

You were currently in science class; everything your teacher was explaining about mixing carbon dioxide with hydrogen peroxide went through one ear and out the other. Thankfully, your lab station was in the far back, so she wasn’t able to catch you texting your boyfriend about your plans to hangout after school. You didn’t even realize she stopped speaking until you heard a different voice—one much deeper and obviously belonging to someone younger. This caught your attention; it wasn’t one of your classmates—you’ve been with them for five months now, you would have recognized them immediately.

When you looked up to see who it was, your eyebrows raised for reasons you didn’t quite understand. He had to be a new student; you don’t remember seeing him once on campus and although your school was enormous, he had a distinct look to him that stood out. His face was sharp and so were his eyes. There were two tiny freckles right below his left eyebrow, his hair was dark and just below his ears. His skin was pale and he had extremely broad shoulders.

You had to admit, he was very good-looking—but you’ve become desensitized to anyone other than your boyfriend. Something about Mark—well, many things about Mark drove you to the brink of insanity and you didn’t think there was anyone who could set your bones on fire like he did.

“Everyone, this is Im Jaebeom. He is a foreign exchange student from South Korea. He plans on staying with us for the next two years, so be nice to him, introduce yourselves to him and try to make him feel welcome. Jaebeom dear, you can take a seat at the empty chair next to y/n in the back.”

When his eyes landed on you, he sent a flirty smile your way and gave you a wink. He placed his bag on top of the table and took his seat next to you. Your eyes were quick to land on his hand that was now right in front of your face.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you y/n. I look forward to having you in class.”

Yeah, you were screwed.

#got7 imagines #got7 #mark tuan #mark tuan imagines #got7 mark

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sunshobine · 4 years

Text

Namjoon smutty christmas because I have no idea how to title shit

“Oh wow, you are so cold.”

Whatever answer you have is muffled into his shirt, but the shiver that vibrates against his chest is enough of an answer. It’s a cold, dark, and rainy day conveniently placed under the umbrella of Christmas holidays, so neither of you need to go to work. The perfect excuse to lay in bed cuddling. Both of you have had a marathon of Christmas movies queued up one after the other, a little treat for his princess, Namjoon said. But you’re not watching the movie, instead, you’ve got your head against his chest, pulling on his hoodie and shivering. Namjoon takes matters into his own hands, quite literally, attempting to rub heat into your arms and back. It's lovely and comforting, how he traces stars into your skin, but it does nothing to chase away the cold seated in your bones. So you flip yourself around and shuffle till your back is against his and shove his arm under your own. Namjoon is laughing, if you wanted to be the little spoon you could have just asked, but instead of vocalizing the thought he opts for pulling you tighter against his chest.

There needs to be a certain state of relaxation for one to get a boner, and the boner that Namjoon has is a mindless one, just cosiness and warmth that pulls him into a subtle arousal. Your boyfriend is so encaptivated by the scent of your hair, the dip in your hips on his arm that slings over you, and the rhythm to the rise and falls of your breaths–that is until you wiggle backwards. Whilst Namjoon had been arguably not-so-conscious of the increased blood flow to his "region", he is fuckin' aware of that now. There's a surge of blood that shoots right into his groin, leaving him a little light headed. But you don't need to know that, everything is perfect (aside from the blue balls that he is most definitely going to get) and he is not about to ruin this moment. Maybe if he just tactfully pries his hips away from you... You're comfortable underneath the covers, in the cusp of warmth. Suddenly you feel your personal human heater inch slowly and unfairly away from you. Nope, no way you're letting that happen. You make a forceful shift backwards... ...right on Namjoon's dick. Shit shit shit, play it off Namjoon, play it off. Maybe he should just lay on his back and pull your head to his chest instead. Nope, that'll create a visible tent in the blankets. What Namjoon doesn't expect is the way you grind down on his erection.

His dick feels so hot and heavy under your butt, inducing juices in your centre. It's involuntary, the way you continue grinding down on him. But oh fuuuck, it feels so good. You're pushing your hands underneath his shirt, hazily soaking in the grooves in his stomach, ripples of muscles that can't be seen by the naked eye. A part of you is anxious–afraid even–that it's too much, that he'll pull away from you, but you're clouded with desire and you let your hands do the thinking for you. Your boyfriend tenses from your touch, and you can hear a sharp intake of breath as you toy with the waistband of his jeans. It's a question, something you can't quite manage to get out of your throat and Namjoon knows. But he needs to hear you say it, needs to make sure it's the right question. "Baby, are you okay with this?" Namjoon catches your hand in his own. "Please, please can I touch you Namjoon?" Your plea leaves him hot and breathless, whispering 'fuck' under his breath before giving a shaky exhale. "Yes, baby. Yes, you c-can." Namjoon groans deep at the feeling of your hands fluttering over his clothed cock. It's so, so much better than his own hand even over the jeans making him buck forward into your palm. Your hand wraps around the length, pulling downwards. He wants you closer, wants to touch you so badly, so when you lean back into his chest, he immediately grabs your hips and noses your hair, inhaling. “Can we please turn off your computer? I can’t do this with an 8 year old on the screen.” On cue, one of the big bad robbers lets out a large scream and tumbles down the stairs in a crash.

“Yep.” Namjoon, with all his strength, launches right to the screen with his long limbs and catches his foot right in the dip at the edge of the bed and falls off, planting a bruise right on his knee.

Once he turns back, he’s greeted by a tug on his shirt, causing him to tumble. Luckily, you and the bed are there to catch him, and you waste no time latching your mouth on his neck. You can’t leave any hickeys as much as you’re dying to, so you settle for dragging your lipstick over the expanse of his neck. You run your tongue, scraping your teeth where you would have otherwise left an imprint, and Namjoon growls at this. His girlfriend can’t bruise him, but Namjoon can most definitely do it to you, to which he grants you exactly that swerving so fast that his mouth lands on the soft side under your ear and jaw and sucks. Your hands fly right to his hair and run though them, holding on them lightly enough so it doesn’t hurt but just enough so it’s like you’ve got something to grip on. Namjoon works away on your neck, marking his territory, whilst you let one of your hands travel back to his crotch. A firm squeeze has him biting down on your collarbone, and you repay him by pressing the heel of your palm further on his cock. Suddenly his dick twitches right at the jeans and you can’t take it any more, pulling away from his touch to his erection from the confines of his jeans.

Now that his dick has expanded, it is more difficult to get his skinny jeans off. You're pulling his zipper down tentatively, afraid it's going to snag over his cock, although it just makes him restless, bucking up to meet more friction. It takes restraint, and you can tell he's trying whilst you're popping the buttons off. You try and tug both his pants and his boxers in one motion. Of course it doesn't work. Nonetheless, Namjoon takes both sides of his jeans and slides them down so they crumple around his thighs, letting his erection flop onto his stomach.

"Oh." That's a small gasp from your side.

It's a worry Namjoon has at the back of his head, with his reputation that comes along with his job, fangirls guessing the size of his dick. Extremely high pornstar-like expectations which he definitely cannot fulfil.

"Yeah... It's a bit..." Small? Not as thick? Disappointing? He doesn't want to hear the end of the sentence, even though he doesn't have to. He doesn't even get to the end of the sentence because you've got your lips on his right now and your hand wrapped around his dick.

It's returned to a semi from his anxiousness, but he still sighs when you start tugging your loosely fitted fist up and down. Your movements are experienced and confident, getting the blood flowing right where it needs to be. A part of him wonders, out of curiosity, how many people you've done this with. However that's your business, and he's quick to pry himself out of the thought before it transforms into something bad.

"It's just that I need to uh, prep for this first." You say sheepishly.

What with the lack of experience your boyfriend doesn't really understand your statement. Not until he catches your hand in your pants, that’s when he really really gets it.

The "oh" that escapes him is as much of an indication causing you to smack your head right into his shoulder. Your hands have stopped whatever they're doing to curl into his shirt, refusing to budge lest he sees the inferno on your cheeks.

"If that's okay with you Namsy."

"O-of course. Yeah, that's completely okay with me." Your boyfriend interjects with maybe a bit too much enthusiasm.

Wow, what a great reply Kim Namjoon. He winces and you laugh, good-natured and awkward, a device Namjoon usually uses to deflect tension. He overlaps your guffaw with his own and stays put standing at the edge of his bed whilst you shuffle backwards on your knees. You flop down onto the pillows hitching your hips up and pulling your sweats down, and it's only then he reaches forward to lift your hips and tug them down. After tossing them to the side, he glances back to find you, with your top off and one hand in your undies.

Namjoon is too tall to be on the bed the way he is, even when he scoots forward he finds his calves somewhat dangling off the end. Still, it's okay, it’s more than good when he places his hand on your hipbone. He traces his fingers along your hips then hooks them in the band of your underwear.

"You're gonna help me slide my panties off?" You find your boyfriend sexy, you really do, but the way he looks at your cotton briefs like it was simultaneously the raunchiest lingerie and a 101 puzzle chastity belt makes you seriously question that predicament.

"Can we not bring up that song? I was eighteen when I wrote that okay." When he had wayyyyy too much bravado and no idea about anything about the female anatomy.

Now, though Namjoon knows more than nothing, he knows enough to know that he knows close to nothing.

"Maybe I should dim the lights down, baby."

Your retort has him irritated, yanking your panties down so hard that they scrape and tear off at one leg. The motion in and of itself is swift, but the jut of his chin and the furrow in his brows have you clenching your fingers and your jaw hanging over in a silent exhale. It takes a few seconds for him to actually register, and you soak in his frustration right into your core. When he does realize what he's done though, a string of apologies tip over his tongue and you stutter through your own words.

"It's fine! It's fine, it's fine. It's... really hot, actually."

Hot? An eyebrow quirks upwards and he doesn't try to conceal the wicked grin that spreads across his face. And you positively blush right under his gaze, giving him exactly the fodder he needs to keep that cocky smirk. However, it all dissipates when he turns his focus between your legs.

The scent hits him like a punch to the side of his head, smacking all common sense out of him. When his eyes come back into focus, he's met with two digits pushing in and out the pretty pink of your pussy. Then the sounds, the fucking sound of your whimpers mixing with the sound of your wetness float into his ears,a song better than anything he's written. Oh god, he can die a happy man right now.

"Joonie? You're drooling."

Right on cue, a fat droplet falls in globules onto your thigh. He kinds of wants to lick it off, then move his tongue over to taste your wetness, yet he doesn't. He stays right there, dumbstruck while you slip your fingers in and out, faster. He doesn't look up, but if he did, he would have noticed the fondness in your gaze.

"Baby, can I?" He can't speak, can't really articulate what he wants to say, what he wants to do.

"Huh?"

"Can I..." Words die off on his tongue and morph into action.

Namjoon places the pads of his fingertips on your entrance and press into them, rubbing circles just to feel. Juices gush out almost immediately, and he takes that as a cue to spread your pussy lips and push his palm into them, letting his tip of his index finger tap gently at your clit. Your mouth spills out whimpers and whines as you lift your hips towards him. It makes his pride swell (and also his dick), and he realises he's literally and figuratively got you in the palm of his hand. A++, 5 points to Gryffindor.

"Nammms–ah shit–please stop teasing me." You whine, thrusting into his hand.

“But I like teasing you.” Namjoon quirks, even though he obliges to your request, because he likes making you feel good more than he likes teasing you.

Your plea hitches in your throat when Namjoon slides between your folds and you shudder at the sensation of his fingers, so much larger and longer than yours reaching places where you couldn’t.

In some cases, no amount of textbooks (Wikipedia and Naver) or visual aids (it's porn, and he watches pleeeeennnntttyyyy of that) can prepare you for the real thing and Namjoon is slightly taken aback by how soft and warm you feel, nearly sucking his fingers in. Better safe than sorry. He goes at an agonizingly slow pace in fear of hurting his precious girlfriend.

While your sweet, sweet loving boyfriend is not doing a bad job, it doesn't get you where you need to be. You've gathered throughout knowing him, that he's not that experienced, though that is not a problem at all. You can always teach him.

Namjoon's a bit surprised when you take his fingers out, but he bites down his worries of inadequacy and lets you take charge. He lets you flip his hand over so his palm is facing the ceiling, inserts them back in, and start pushing his hands at the pace that you want. It doesn’t take any time for him to catch up, and he’s setting a good speed when he inserts another one.

"Please please please please, Na-Namjoon, please I want you in me."

An evil, evil grin splits across his face as he utters his next words carefully.

"But princess, I am inside you."

Oh, he knows, he knows what you mean. Still he takes his time relishing in the way you groan and pull your arm across your face. He pries your arm with a firm yet slow grip away from your face. Namjoon needs to know, needs to make sure that you really, actually want this.

"Use your words baby."

"I wa--ah-ah-ant your cock. Please, Namjoon, please, I want your cock inside me. I want you close to me. I want you so much."

Annnndddd then he remembers he doesn't have a condom. He didn't expect this, he honest to god didn't expect Christmas cuddling to turn into Christmas sex at all, and he's internally swearing at himself for throwing the condom back at Yoongi after Yoongi tossed them in his direction after he left the studio.

He tells you just that, and this time, you're the one that springs out of bed and gets your shin knocked against the cupboard. Trying to ignore the pain, you pull out your box of sex stuff and hurry back to the bed. As you dump all the contents, your now shirtless boyfriend reaches to coo and rub at the injury.

Everything goes without a hitch from here, is a goddamn lie sold by movies when Namjoon has ripped the condom packet too hard and caused it to roll off the bed for a second time. It’s funny but not off putting, and you end up stroking him and working kisses on the expanse of his chest before rolling one on.

Legs open wide, you flop back down eagerly like a good girl. You watch with bated breath while waiting for Namjoon to move. What you’re not expecting is for your boyfriend to pull your bruised shin towards him and place a soft kiss over it. The moment is so loving that you nearly catch yourself saying those three words that is always a bad idea to say during sex. Finally he eases in, inch by tortuous inch until he's completely engulfed by the tight heat of your cunt.

From the proximity, you can feel him shiver above you, barely able to keep himself up. And you’re bracing yourself with an internal chuckle for fear of the moment he’s going to collapse on you.

“Namsy? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he croaks, there’s beads of sweat that line his forehead, “it’s just that I’ve never…”

“Wait, Joonie, you’re a virgin?”

Namjoon takes a glance back down almost unbelievably where your bodies are connected.

“Not anymore apparently.”

The implication of his words don't hit you right away. Namjoon chuckles, sending vibrations directly to your core and your giggles morph into a moan. But then it does, and your mouth moves before you can really register what you’re saying.

“Oh shitttttttttttttt. Ah I should have guessed.”

Namjoon laughs, a short string of ha's to mask his insecurities, however you know him long enough to see that it's out of self deprecation. And you bring your hand out to catch him before he loses himself.

"Namjoon!" It's almost startling, the way you shout at him even though he's literally centimeters away from you, but it catches his attention and masks the sound of your heart beginning to rip apart.

“It’s like, I would have acted differently, like take care of you more...”

Namjoon visibly grimaces and really of all the the times you could have fucked up, now? Really? Get your shit together. Your brain trips and stumbles and falls over your words with too many emotions that all surround love, to which your throat cracks and lets though the words that ring the loudest.

"Namjoon, I don't want perfect, I just want you."

How can Namjoon not kiss you at this moment? He almost pulls out completely when he moves down to kiss you fully on the lips. Unhurried mellow brushes on your lips as they slowly turn into deep open mouthed kisses that have him growling inside his chest and you running your hands over his sides. You shift your hips so that has more of him is inside you.

The height difference makes it difficult for him to kiss you, but he tries anyway. It's nowhere close to perfect. Sometimes his lips catches the tip of your nose, sometimes your teeth graze the bottom of his chin, but it makes the both of you giggle.

You want your own release too, of course you can't deny what your body wants. But it's a thought that you easily slot in the back of your mind to focus on him. Obviously, there really isn't that much you can do in missionary position, but he is substantially taller for you to have room to roll your hips up and down. So you do just that.

"Fuckin’ hell babe," Namjoon pants, pulling way to look at you "You feel so fucking good, so hot, rolling your hips li-like that for me."

Your reaction to his words are just as unconscious as the words that flow from his mouth. The way you squeeze your eyes shut and loll your head to the side with a low sob, is innate and unintentional. But this? Namjoon can’t ignore it if he tried. He doubles down on his words, drunkenly preening affectionate approvals and compliments as he fucks you.

Your gorgeous, gorgeous boyfriend who is trying not to choke on air, won’t stop praising you. He’s got one forearm resting on the side of your head and the other arm reaching downwards to rub your clit in circles.

Even though you reckon it's not going to take him much to cum, still you ask him to tell you when he's about to. His reply consists of a fist in your hair and a shaky whisper that he will, but he isn't going to last much longer.

Maybe it’s your deep-seated desire to just please, maybe it's your praise kink, or maybe it's because despite the fact he's kind of struggling to hold himself upright he still makes the effort to make you feel good; this stirs something in you, forcing you to redouble your efforts, clenching your core in a rhythm that makes his hips stutter.

"O-oh fuck. Princess, I'm s-so close fuck."

“P-Please,please, please cum inside me. Please Joonie, please cum inside me. I want you to cum inside me so badly.” It’s a bold, fruitless request when you can still feel the texture of rubber in you. Honestly it’s not really his cum filling up your pussy that you want right now, even though the very idea has you whimpering in his hold. It’s the thought of watching him fall apart above you that you need, even more than your own orgasm.

"Mmmmy, my baby girl's gonna maa-ake me cum."

You don’t see him cum, you couldn’t anyways with the height difference and his head buried above you into the mattress. Yet you feel him cum, you feel his cock twitch and harden and his convulsions as he collapses on top of you. It’s so so much more when he whispers stray ‘I love you’s and broken syllables that sound like your name, and you kiss all the skin you can reach as he fucks you through his orgasm.

It’s not until you’re sure Namjoon has gone through the aftershocks that you ask him to move because your boyfriend is a very tall man and his chest is at your face and if he doesn’t move you might suffocate.

Dutifully, you boyfriend quickly obliges. At the very least Namjoon attempts to, falling right back on you when he tries to push himself off. You end up pushing him to roll him onto his side, and you both burst into giggles for the millionth time today.

It’s lovely, looking at him with his front towards the ceiling and his head facing you, and you can’t help but scoot over, wanting to rest your head on his chest.

As soon as you reach you hand over, he pulls you in so that he’s sideways and almost towering over you. The dark lascivious eyes speaks volumes in itself but it doesn’t beat the dripping tone in which Namjoon asks.

“Does my princess want to cum?”

Your stomach is churning again in all the right ways and yet you’ve basically been on edge for most of this night, and you really want to. But Namjoon looks so tired and worn out, and he means so, so much more than sex so you just let the words find themselves again.

"If you want to. It'd be nice to cum, but I'm really just happy to rest with you if you're tired. You came and that's enough for me."

The deliciously sinister gaze on your boyfriend's gaze melts away into somethings so so soft and tender like he's looking at heaven's creation and nothing less. It is too much, and you feel so vulnerable, almost unworthy of such adoration. So you duck your head down to escape his gaze.

"I am going to make my princess cum for me." He says with his lips pressed to your forehead.

Namjoon brings his lips down to your mouth, catching the bottom lip between his teeth and pulling. His tongue just slides right against you when you feel his fingers pry at your cunt and slip right in. Because of fucking course, Kim Namjoon is fucking tall enough to do that. Tall enough to kiss you whilst finger you silly.

“You’ve been so, so fucking good to me, I want you to cum for me, okay princess? Do whatever you need to princess. I’m gonna take care of you now. ”

You cum from a combination of his fingers in your pussy, praises on his tongue and your hand on your clit. Even though it's not the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, it's the one that makes you feel the most, has your heart hammering in song and his name and something that looks a lot like love.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Wait, Namjoon, I gotta go pee."

"Do you have to? Right this second?" Your boyfriend whines, you did not expect him to be so clingy and cuddly after sex, yet so are you.

"No, but I've had a yeast infection before and it was one of the worst things I've ever experienced."

On command, he releases you with a "go" causing you to laugh at how comically fast he reacts.

"Oh by the way," you start just as you grapple one of his shirts off the floor just to cover yourself a little, "guys can get bacteria related infections even after having sex with someone without STDs. Go after me okay?"

It's a few minutes later when you're curling over his side of your single bed and starting to shiver, waiting to crawl back into his arms.

#namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts fic #namjoon fic #rap monster #rm #namjoon smut #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #rap monster smut #rm smut #bts smut #bts

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underoossss · 5 years

Text

Pushing Me Away - T.H

pairing: college!tom x college!reader

warnings: its a bit angsty but its me so theres always fluff and a happy ending. I’m sorry if this sucks!

This is for @starksparker ‘s Jonas Brothers writing challenge. I took inspo on the song and wrote a lil college au.

---

People talk and Tom hates it.

Sure, since the beginning it’s been his own fault. He had no one else to blame but himself for the reputation he built. He had been the player, the heartless boy at frat parties who flirted with every other girl and never called them back. He didn’t use to care about what people said, but now he hates it. Not because it hurt him, he was way pass that, but he hates it because its ruining what could be the best thing in his life.

Three semesters ago, Tom had decided it was enough. His grades had flopped considerably almost costing him his scholarship and they almost kicked him out of the basketball team. It had been eye opening, seeing how close he had been to losing what had worked so hard for in a matter of months. So Tom stopped. But the fact that he did, didn’t necessarily mean everyone else stopped talking about him.

Two semesters after his decision he met you. It had been in a third year psychology class, when he had arrived just in time for the lecture and taken the only available seat next to you. You had lent him a pencil when he couldn’t find his and offered him a smile when he had bashfully thanked you. Tom would be lying if he said he didn’t start falling for you right then and there. Your conversations always brought a laugh out of him and he had never felt so free to be himself like when he was with you. His feelings had developed from that moment onwards and he tried to let you know. He asked you out to get coffee, brought an extra snack to class one time and tried to get your attention whenever you were at one of his games.

Your response was the same every time, rejection, the softest ‘no, I’m okay’ that’s ever been said.

With every rejection Tom remembered the rumors and all the past actions that follow him like a shadow. If he could go back in time, he would, anything to erase whichever idea you had formed about him in your mind. He was determined to forget about you, you’d be better off without him anyway, and he wouldn’t be hurting so much every time you pushed him away. But then summer came along and something happened, something he still can’t forget.

-----

“Fine. Yeah, okay Matthew I’ll wait here. See you.”

Tom recognized your voice as he walked down Main street to pick up an errand for his mom. He looked up from his phone to see you sitting cross-legged on the hood of your car, frowning at the screen of your phone. The sun was high in the sky and but the heat wasn’t as bad as it had been at the beginning of the summer. Tom had an inner battle with his heart for a minute as he decided whether or not talking to you was a good idea, and damn his heart for winning.

He pocketed his phone and took a few steps towards you before waving his hand. “Hey.” He smiled, “Is everything okay?”

You looked up and gave him a small smile, “Tom, hi. Umm not really, my car won’t start and my brother won’t be able to come and help me for at least 40 minutes.”

Tom stuffs his hands in the pocket of his jeans, “I wish I could helped but I walked, I had jumper cables in my trunk.”

You shrugged, “It’s alright I can wait.”

Tom scratched the back of his neck nervously, what if he asks you out for lunch? Would you say yes? “I was going to pick up something from Mrs. Granger’s store for my mom and then grab some lunch. Would you um… would you like to come with me?”

You gave him a long look, and his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt under your gaze before you nodded your head and smiled. Tom let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and held out his hand for you to take so you can get off the hood of your car. He couldn’t help smiling at the way sparks seemed to fly when your hands touched and he swore his hand was still tingling even after you let go. Tom was worried it was a mistake, just another way to get himself hurt if you decided to change your mind and pushed him away once more. But he had to try, he would keep trying even if the rumors about him weighted on his shoulders as a constant reminder of what you probably thought of him. But he pushed everything to the back of his mind, except you. Thirty minutes and three slices of pizza later he could only focus on the way you laughed, nose scrunched up in the middle of your face and head thrown back. He was floating, he couldn’t stop smiling, he thought things couldn’t get better and that maybe you realized that what people said wasn’t true anymore. Maybe you knew he had changed.

He walked you back to your car when your brother told you he was on his way to help you get home and he loved the way they conversation hadn’t stopped for a second since he asked you for lunch. This is what he wanted, for you to be at ease and not guarded every time he tried to do something nice for you. He wanted you to know he cares. But then the two of you said your goodbyes, your faces close together and an unexpected kiss happened. One of his hands was on your cheek while yours were on his shoulders. It was soft, and slow and better than what Tom could’ve dreamed off. It seemed too good to be true and it was.

“I-I’m sorry.” You said quickly when you pulled away, taking a step back. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why?” Tom could hear how small his voice sounded but he didn’t care. “Y/N, please just- tell me what I’m doing wrong here because I’m lost. Why do you keep pushing me away?”

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine okay. I should’ve said no to lunch and avoided this, I’m sorry.” You closed your eyes tightly, taking another step back and shaking your head when Tom took a step forward. “I don’t want to be heartbroken because of you, I don’t want to be another one of your girls. Is that why you’ve been trying to ask me out? We’re complete opposites so of course that’s why! It’s the only explanation.”

“Y/N… That’s not- I won’t-” Tom could feel tears stinging his eyes, he knew this would happen but never knew it’d hurt this much. “Let me explain, please.”

You closed your eyes and tears started streaming down your face, “You should just go. This isn’t good for either of us.” You crossed your arms and turned around so your back was facing him and your shoulders shaking the tiniest bit but Tom noticed.

He had made you cry, when it was the last thing he wanted to do. So Tom turned around and started walking back home.

------

It’s been two weeks since the kiss and the same feeling of longing and heartbreak still lingers in Tom’s chest. He had avoided all the places he knew you’d probably be at, and he was thankful that classes wouldn’t start until the end of the month. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, he didn’t want you to think he was still chasing after you, because he wasn’t. Because this wasn’t a chase, it was a boy in love, who had no control over what people said. Only over his own actions and that should be enough. That should be enough! Rumors exist and people always talk, sure he can’t change the past but he has changed a whole damn lot in the past year and a half. If people don’t notice, who cares, he has noticed and he’s proud of where he is now. Y/N had given him her explanation but didn’t let him explain, she didn’t give him the chance. But Tom needed to explain, it’s not fair for either of them to be apart only because of something that was in the past but people were far too bored to let it go. He knows they have something, they may even have a chance, he just needs to explain.

So Tom gets out of bed and after barely leaving the house for weeks, he puts on his converse and walks uptown to try his luck at finding Y/N. He visits your favorite shops, the bookstore, the small bakery at Hawthorne street but he doesn’t spot you until he gets to the farmers’ market. You were paying for some tomatoes and thanking the lady who sold them to you before walking to another stand. Tom is frozen on the spot, he wants to chicken out but he wills himself to walk towards you.

“Y/N!”

You turn around at the sound of your name, your hair following your movements in slow motion. The red t-shirt you wear contrasting with the light wash high waited jeans you wore and the black sneakers on your shoes. You looked beautiful as always and if Tom wasn’t so nervous he’d probably feel like he’s inside a movie. Specially during the moment when the protagonist sees the love interest walk in for the first time but right now he’s too busy finding his voice. “Tom?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “Hi, what are you doing here?”

“I-I’m here to see you.” He takes a step closer to you, “I need to talk to you and explain myself. I know you’ve heard things about me, but I’d like to explain everything to you myself. I’m not the guy from the rumors anymore, just…”

“Okay.” You nod your head, shouldering a green cloth tote full of vegetables. “I do owe it to you, I didn’t let you explain before. Milkshake?” You ask nodding towards the diner across the street, a hint of a smile on your face.

Tom sighs in relief, nodding his head and letting you lead the way to the diner. He runs his fingers through his hair as he walks next to you, stopping at the traffic light to cross the street. “So, how have you been?”

“Umm, I’ve been better.” You sigh but send a small smile his way as you cross the street, “It was my turn to get the groceries this week. What about you?”

Tom chuckles before opening the door for you, “About the same.” Hoping we can be together after this talk and dreading your answer being no.

“Two chocolate milkshakes please.” Tom tells the server taking their order, smiling at your surprise when he remembers chocolate is your favorite. “And fries?”

You nod your head, “Always. Thank you.”

Tom clears his throat once the server leaves, “Umm. I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning?” You prompt with a smile.

Tom doesn’t want to admit it but it is enough to ease his nerves. “When I first started universities I was a mess, and I know I was a player. But everyone gets a wakeup call eventually, I had mine and decided to change. I stopped going to frat parties, and you can say parties altogether. I cut off toxic friendships, I’ve been focusing on the basketball team and keeping my scholarship, and honestly I love this version of myself. I had been back on track for two semesters when I met you and you let me have one of your pencils in that psych lecture.” He pauses to dip a fry in his milkshake before speaking again, holding out his hand towards you on the table.

“Everything I’ve done, every time we have a conversation and every laugh has been real Y/N. I’m not trying to play you, I genuinely care about you, I fell in love with you. I hate myself for getting such a bad reputation all those years ago because I know I’ll probably never get you to trust me because of it.” He sighs, closing his eyes. “I just want a chance to prove it to you. Let me show you that this Tom, your Tom is not that guy from the rumors anymore.”

Tom feels his heart rate stop the second your hand takes his and the gentle squeeze that follows makes him look up. “Yes.”

“Hm?” His eyebrows furrow in the middle in confusion, “Yes what?”

“Yes, to everything. Every coffee, every invitation and snack you’ve ever offered me and I said no because I was too caught up in what other people said and my own fear to take the chance. I’m sorry, Tom, I’m so sorry for any pain that I probably caused you.” You shake your head with a frown, “I feel like a coward. I didn’t act on my feelings because I was too afraid a rumor might come true.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Tom’s smile is hurting, his chest is going to explode and that feeling of walking on air from a few weeks back had settled on his body again. “The past should stay in the past don’t you think?”

You nod your head, a similar smile on your face. “I guess you’re right. So umm, you-“

“Love you? Yes.” His thumb rubs the back of your hand, not wanting to let go. He’s too content to be embarrassed about blurting out all of his feelings.

“I do too. Love you, I mean. I think it happened last semester which is why I tried to distance myself even more…” You shake your head again in disbelief. “How about we start over?”

Tom smiles, standing up and holding out his hand. “Hello, I’m Tom Holland.”

“Hi, Tom I’m Y/N L/N.” You stand up and shake his hands, laughing halfway at your antics.

“Would you like to go out on a date with me?” He asks, taking a step closer to you and squeezing you hand.

“I’d love to, do milkshakes and fries sound good to you?” You look up at him in question as you take a step forward, biting back a smile when he starts laughing.

“Sounds perfect.” He whispers, pressing his forehead against yours and sighing in content. “Thank you, for trusting me.”

“No Tom, “ You whisper back, your arms going around his waist and your head resting on his shoulder. “Thank you, for not giving up on this even when I pushed you away.”

“I guess we’re even then.” You hear the smile on his voice which makes you hug him tighter, you’d be dammed it you let go.

“Yeah we are.” You stand back to kiss his cheek. “Come on, our fries are getting cold.”

Yeah, people talk about you and will continue to do so. But its your decision whether to carry that weight on your shoulder or shrug it off. Tom’s going to shrug it off and help you carry that green grocery bag instead.

tagging: @peterstrainingwheels

#kaylees jonas brothers wc #tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland college au #college au #pauwrites

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chogiwank · 6 years

Text

Fornication - Taeyong | Fluff&Smut (Part 1)

Anon asked: Hey can I request friends with benefits Taeyong fluff,smut please ❣❣❣❣❣

Pairing: Badboy!Taeyong x Nerd!Reader

Genre: Fluff, One Scene of Smut (full smut will be part 2)

Warnings: Oral sex, Adultery/Premarital Sex, Friends With Benefits, (smut occurs mostly after the “Read more”) not100%proofreadOOPS

“That’s it, the prof is being annoying and keeps stacking us with work which...I procrastinated on and didn’t finish. Today is the day I’m skipping class.” The idea of doing such ran chills through her, she’d always been the goodie-two-shoes as others would call her, a teacher’s pet.

“Skip class? On a Saturday? Rebellious.” Her friend chuckled seated beside her on the soft green grass. “Plus it’s 7 in the afternoon, idiot.”

“Ugh shut up.” She rolled her eyes, playfully punching his arm. He laid back on the grass - hands behind his head as a pillow - laughing at her, her thoughts to be mischievous and sneak around without getting caught or give into her own guilt. When they’d met in sophomore year of high school, he’d never seen her do one naughty thing to ruin her reputation - always in class on time, homework done, full participation in class and projects - the whole A+ student, a role model.

On the other hand, he was the complete opposite to her - never participate in school-related activities, lazy, skips class to hook up, piercings, couple tattoos here and there, dyed hair. - a whole bad boy of the school even with the look. Seeing the two together was never really anything you’d think, they both clashed in looks, personality and work habits, their relationship very unexpected.

It all started during junior year in high school, the two were oddly paired up by the teacher in their chemistry class. Y/N gaining dirty looks from other girls of his past and current hookups, Taeyong raising whispers, eyebrows and some cheers from others due to his reputation.

After school, they worked together in the public library to start up the week-long project. Dividing up the work to finish off faster for the day, y/n slightly shocked at Taeyong finishing his part without any objection on time before her.

“You should know I’m not as horrible as everyone makes me out to be.” He chuckled at her expression.

“Oh no, it’s I-“

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” he shook his head with a gentle smile.

“I just didn’t expect you to finish all of it, you don’t look like the type.”

“I might not look like it but I’m actually pretty good at school, despite how much I skip and hate it.” They both laughed.

“I guess I judged wrong, sorry.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“No biggie.” He nodded. “So is this all for today?”

“So far, Yes. Same time tomorrow?” He smiled.

“Yeah sure,” he stood up from his seat packing up his belongings. “Same time.” From there on, the two cooperated on the project for almost a full week, completing it on the 6th day sighing of relief in the library study room as they flopped back onto their chairs.

“Can’t believe it took so much effort to do this.” Taeyong pushed his hair back.

“Maybe if you participate in groups a little more you’d know.” Y/N teased.

“Hey!” Taeyong exclaimed. “I do participate...just while doing the bare minimum.” He pouted, making her giggle.

“You’re a good teammate.”

“That’s only because I didn’t want you pissed at me.”

“Pissed?”

“Yeah, you’re a smart girl and pretty - I figured you’d blow up and hate me if I didn’t do shit.” he shrugged.

“wait, you think I’m pretty?” She raised a brow.

“Well yeah, only an idiot wouldn’t.”

“I think you’re a total player.” She stated.

“Shocker.” He spoke sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“But that’s only from what I’ve heard. Although I’ve always wondered...” she trailed off. “What do you get from skipping classes and so many hookups.”

“To skip class allows me to have freedom from boredom, and the hookups...” Taeyong smirked. “Help me pass time for a period or two.”

“So what you’re saying is that hooking up with multiple girls is just for you to pass time between periods?” She furrowed her brows.

“Basically, but I haven’t had sex with them all - probably three at most. One who was my ex, second when I was drunk, and third this guy who was my neighbour-“

“you had sex with a dude who was your neighbour?” She exclaimed.

“He was hot, his name was Jaehyun if you saw him you wouldn’t blame me because you’d be banging him right now too, sweetheart.” His words brought a blush to her cheeks, her face turning hotter by the second. “Whoa, what’s with all the blushing?” He smirked. “Are you a virgin?”

“Y-yes kind of...” shifting her gaze down on her lap.

“Kind of?” Taeyong cocked his head. “What does that mean?”

“The most I’ve done is have someone finger me and well uh...I’ve had uhh” she stammered off embarrassed to finish her words.

“And what? Oral?” Taeyong threw out guesses.

“No.” She softly spoke.

“Dry hump?”

She shook her head no once again.

“Did you shove a dildo up your vagina?” vigorously shaking her head yes, she covered her red, hot face with the palm of her hands as she heard Taeyong’s laughter echo throughout the room.

“You’re embarrassed because you’ve shoved a dildo in yourself?” Groaning and punching his arm still in a state of embarrassment she placed her head down on the table. “Who’d you think of?” He wiggled his brow at her mischievously.

“What?” She shoots her head up in a whisper-shout.

“Who’s dick did you want but were too afraid to have Ms.Goodie two shoes.” He slumped back in his chair, hands behind his head smirking devilishly waiting for his answer.

“Uh, I... it was...” she stuttered. “You can’t ask that question, Lee!” She stood up from her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s a personal question!”

“Awe c’mon I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry your secret will be safe I won’t ruin your reputation, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t that she couldn’t tell him, but more so that she wouldn’t. She was afraid of what would happen if she told him, at the same time filled with slight adrenaline and curiosity of what could happen if she did. If she told him the one she thought of was him. That she was interested in him, to know him and how he was. He had good looks, extremely good looks, but his personality was a mystery to him - she wanted to find out about him and for the week she did - feeling slightly more attracted towards him. Although, how could she tell him she thought of him for her sexual fantasies. The role model student desiring for the bad boy, lewd thoughts no one would ever suspect from her, sometimes even surprising herself.

“Is it that senior Jongin is that...ah! Kai?” He stood from his seat walking closer to her with his annoying smirk still plastered on his face. “You two hang out a lot, he seems interested in you.” She nervously shook her head no as Taeyong walked intimidatingly closer to her.

“No? That’s too bad...is it Doyoung? You both are nerds, works pretty well.”

She scoffed. “I still get better marks than him, he is nothing but my mere enemy.”

“Oh yeah?” He took another step closer. “Ten, the Thai exchange student, an attractive guy.”

“He-his looks aren’t really my type.” She moved back as he slowly continued to walk towards her.

Taeyong laughed at her response. “So you’re selfish when it comes to looks?”

“N-no! Not at all I-I’m just saying it-uh he’s not really my type, great guy-g-great personality but not someone I see myself with.”

“Then who do you see yourself with?” Back bumping against the wall she could no longer move away from his intimidating figure who now stood in front of her. Inhaling deeply, she exhaled a shaky breath, gathering her nerves to speak she admit, “you.”

“What?” Processing her answer, moving back looking at the girl who stood trapped between his body and the wall “no way, don’t play like that.” He answered in disbelief.

“I’m not.” She whispered. “I’ve liked you, Taeyong. I don’t know why or how, but I’m interested in you.”

“Might I ask what interest you?” He cocked his head, smirk planted upon his features once again.

“Y-you’re-uHm...it’s basically...”

“What? The goodie-two-shoes wanted some bad boy cock? Are you purely just physically attracted to me y/n?”

She nodded her head, face flushed in pink and burning hot.

“I’ll tell you what, nerd.” Taeyong spoke, “ill make your wishes come true if you do me one favour.” Raising her eyebrows she anticipated for him to continue, “help me with my work - homework, tests and projects - I’ll make your fantasies come true, teach you to loosen up a little while you teach me to tighten up a little. Deal?”

“You do know I’ve never had sex before...”

“I know, I won’t go that far unless you initiate it.”

“Okay, deal. I’ll teach you to be a good boy, you teach me to be bad, Lee.”

“Great sweetheart, so when do we start?”

“Hmm it’s so soon but I don’t think I can wait...” she bit her bottom lip slipping her finger into his belt loop, pulling him closer, “no more work, let’s do it.”

“A little needy?” Taeyong laughed.

“A needy nerd having one of her fantasies come true, yes.” The two connected their lips in a hard kiss, Taeyong gliding his tongue along her lips asking permission for entrance, which she allowed. Leading them to hot open-mouthed kisses and roaming hands on either body. Y/N’s hand up tangled in his hair and down his biceps and back. Whilst Taeyong’s slid down her back down to her back dimples, one slipping into the back of her jeans massaging her ass - an accidental moan escaping her lips - and the other moving up cupping her jaw and occasionally sneaking down to squeeze her breasts. Y/N broke the kiss heavily panting in an attempt to gain air and a proper breathing pace. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

“Wonder if I’ll wake up and this’ll end up being some wild dream I’ve had.” Taeyong jokes causing them both to laugh. “Seriously though, I’d be lying if I said I’ve never thought about anything with you.”

“Oh really?” She raised a brow. “What did you think of?” Attaching her lips to his soft skin on his neck she began to suck and bite, leaving light pink and red marks on him.

“Well for one, this. Just kissing you and having you all over me, definitely thought of that. And boy I fucking love it, keep going sweetheart, please.” Letting out a hiss as she reached his sensitive spot below his collarbone, she sucked and bit down a bit harder causing a purple flower to appear. Satisfied with her work, the corner of her mouth twisted upwards as she changed her gaze to look up at him with devilish eyes. “Secondly,” he gripped her waist lifting her on top of the study table they previously worked on. “I thought of having you in class when everyone was gone just kiss you till you're out of breath and finger you until you’re whimpering because of me. The risk of getting caught by a teacher or another student - the school’s ms.perfect getting wrecked, destroying her reputation of innocence. I thought it was hot, still is.”

“Then do it now, wreck me, babe.” Spreading her legs apart for the boy, wrapping them around his waist as he ground his crotch against hers.

“Fuck, are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You’re so dirty, I love it.” Pushing her down against the table he planted wet kisses on her skin, humping her each time she let out a moan. Shuffling to remove her shirt and play with her boobs. Eventually reaching the spot she wanted him the most - she laid there half naked on the table, bra exposed with hickeys on her breast and chest area, jean and panties pulled down having her legs pushed open with Taeyong between her legs, kissing her thighs up to her vagina. Teasing her he slowly licked up her slit a few times before giving attention to her clit. The sensitivity of it jolting her up with a soft high pitched moan. Soon bringing her to an orgasm with her letting out his name, bringing his ego a boost returning the favour, she gave him a blowjob allowing him his own release, her name coming out in whispers from his mouth - his head thrown back, eyes closed shut and fingers tightly held her hair in a makeshift ponytail.

Hence the two’s relationship started of friends with benefits.

“I’ve always wanted to do something...crazy.” She spoke laying her head down on his chest, the two now facing the blue sky, clouds passing as whatever you imagine them to be.

“Now you’re saying I’m not enough for you?” The boy pretended to be offended, hand over his chest and jaw dropped.

“No, you idiot!” She playfully pinched his arm. “I mean like something craz...ier than you.”

“What might that be?” He raised a brow.

“I want a tattoo.”

Taeyong burst into a fit of laughter at her confession. “Well, that is pretty crazy..for you sweetheart.”

“Shush.” She pouted. “Not everyone rebels like you okay?”

“I know.” He chuckled. “Why don’t we go right now?”

Squeezing her eyes shut, body hairs standing on edge as goosebumps rose on her skin from the sound of the machine ready to pierce into her skin and mark it with something that will always remain.

“I can’t believe you’ve actually convinced me to do this.” She hissed from the needles painting upon her wrist.

“You went along with it, don’t place all the blame on me.” Taeyong put his hands up in defence, chuckling at the girl staring him down with a glare. “Plus, even if you regret it later, at least you’ll remember how much of a good time we had together, sweetheart.”

She sighed as the needles left her skin, relaxing her tensed arm and laughed, “you have a point, I will remember this, and us forever.” smiling taking in the new art piece now permanent on her sensitive red skin. Taeyong sat beside her, his ink covered up by the plastic wrap on it, placing their wrists side by side, he sighs deeply,

“I have a lot I regret in life, but this is the one thing I do not.” flashing a bright smile up at her, his voice full of sincerity. Lovingly taking in Taeyong’s crown for a king and her’s a queen with small roman numerals vertically under marking the day they met,

“You know this just means you can’t ever leave me right?”

“So fuck buddies for life?” he teased.

“Shut up.” she smacked his arm. “You’re annoying.”

“Back at you, nerd.”

———

A/N: so here’s another fanfic after so long woot woot!! badboy!Taeyong is a whole ass concept and I’m in love ??? This man needs to get himself some tattoos he’s not even my bias but wow AN ETHEREAL MAN JUST IMAGINESKSKS this is just the first part so it’s mostly fluff,, the second part should consist of more smut and I’ll try to have it up soon!! thank you for the wait and feedback is appreciated!! <3 - Doyoung’s Darling

#nct #taeyong #nct 127 #nct u #nct 2018 #yuta #jaehyun #moon taeil #johnny #doyoung #mark lee #kun #yukhei #jungwoo #ten #winwin #sicheng #nct smut #nct fluff

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postfuguestate · 5 years

Text

Warning: Contains Fanfiction

Soooo...I have the beginnings of a new Chasefield Life is Strange fic. Wroking title: Icon. It is firmly in the genre AU side of things. First draft of the first chapter is below the cut, if anyone is interested...

When her phone starts ringing, Max Caulfield sits bolt upright and scrabbles around the wasteland of her bed until she finds it. She snatches it up and fails to suppress a groan when she sees who’s calling. “Dad! Hey, I’m so sorry I haven’t--”

“Did you die? Have you only recently been resurrected?”

Max flops back on her bed. “Not funny, dad.”

“It’s a crazy world these days. It could happen. But if it didn’t…why haven’t you called back, Max? You know your mom and I worry.”

“I’ve just...been busy.” Max rescues her teddy bear from the suffocating folds of her comforter and gives him a hug. “I’ve been really...busy.”

It isn’t a lie. Not really. Max has been busy taking photographs, putting her work out there, applying for jobs, trying to make something happen. But nothing has happened yet. Nothing that pays enough to maintain her share of the rent on the crappy apartment in a less than desirable neighbourhood in Los Angeles where Max ostensibly lives.

“You found a job?”

“...nothing steady. Not yet.”

“Max…” He covers the phone for a moment, probably to conceal a sigh. His care in trying to mask his disappointment in her only makes Max feel more keenly how far short of his expectations she’s fallen. “Maybe it’s time to come home? For a while, at least. You remember your uncle Pete? He says that Monolith are hiring. They’re a big media company.”

“Dad. I’m a stills photographer.” Max rubs her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Do they need a stills photographer?”

“Be realistic, Max. You’d be starting in data entry. This could be a foot in the door for you! A chance to earn steadily, make contacts...you could move back in with us.” He pauses, but Max is too busy trying to hold herself together to help him out. “Look at this as a chance to actually save some money. And then, a few years down the line, you can go back to freelancing or making art or...or whatever you want! Once you have a stable foundation.”

Max sucks in a breath. She wants to tell him that it’s only been a few months. That she’s making progress, if not money. That she’s learning valuable skills, that she is getting her name out there, that her break will come sooner or later. Max wants to tell him to believe in her talent, but why would he when Max doesn’t?

“It...yeah, it makes sense. Maybe…”

“It definitely makes sense.” He doesn’t try to hide the relief in his voice. Maybe he doesn’t even notice it’s there. Max does. “I wish I could tell you to keep following your dreams, kiddo, but we can’t really...we can’t support you out there any longer, Max. But, I think, I think this will be a good thing. For all of us! Your mom misses you. Obviously I can’t say that I do, let alone that I miss you more, but I can’t help it if you somehow end up thinking that’s true…”

Max almost smiles. “I do miss you guys,” she whispers, blotting out tears with the heel of her hand. “I don’t...I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Maxine. You are not a burden. You hear me? Don’t ever think that. It’s just...it’s been months. We don’t have the...it’s time. To come home. For now, at least. Okay? You’re only twenty-three, Max! You’ve got so much ahead of you. Remember, there are no setbacks! There are only…”

He pauses expectantly.

“Switchbacks,” Max whispers. She clears her throat. “Switchbacks on the road.”

“That’s my girl. It may take longer, but you’ll get where you’re meant to be.”

“Thanks, dad,” Max murmurs. “I...I’ll think about it, okay? I’ll look up buses and stuff. I, uh, I gotta go now, though. I’ve got to...there’s a birthday party thing I’m gonna shoot today.” For a ten year old whose mother took a chance on one of the flyers Max taped to a lamppost last month. “And I’ve got to sort out a portfolio for a magazine, so…”

“Oh, yeah? What magazine?”

Max bites her lip. “...Unmasked.”

“The superhero thing? Isn’t that kinda...tabloid?”

Max’s lip turns white under the pressure of her teeth. She forces her mouth open. “No. It’s a serious publication.” In fact, it’s a glossy gossip factory sprinkled with the odd interview and highbrow cultural commentator trying to make sense of the hero phenomenon. Max is more likely to be doing coffee runs than using her camera, too, but she isn’t about say that to her dad. Not right now. “It’s just an internship, but they pay for pictures of heroes. I, uh, it’s something I’ve been thinking about getting into for a while.”

“Huh. I didn’t think you cared much about the hero scene.” He pauses. Max can hear him breathing, though, so at least he isn’t covering up another sigh. “Max…I hope this pans out. I do. But if it doesn’t…”

“Yeah. I hear you, dad. Thanks for...thanks for looking out for me.”

“No thanks needed. It’s my job! And Max?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. An embarrassing amount, frankly. Let me know about the...magazine thing, and let me know if you need help with the bus ticket. Okay? If, uh, if it comes to that!”

“...okay. Love you, dad.”

Max hangs up, cutting off his response. She tosses her phone aside and hugs Captain to her chest. It took her so long to work up the courage to come to LA looking for work. It took her whole life, all the way through college, to build up belief in her photography, belief that she could cut it as an artist, belief that she could make a living with more commercial applications of her skill.

It’s taken less than five months to whittle away all of her confidence and expose the truth of who Max is: she’s just another young hopeful among thousands, no better than any of them, likely worst than most. How many of the other people like her are lying around crying and hugging their fucking teddy bear instead of chasing down every possible opportunity they can?

Max is a failure. She’s pathetic.

From somewhere under her tangled comforter, her phone starts chiming an alarm.

Max groans. She might be a failure, but she’s a failure who needs to show up for a kid’s tenth birthday party. Max can’t ruin that, too. So with an effort, she drags herself out of bed, hurries through breakfast and a shower and packs up her camera gear.

She’s on the verge of leaving when she remembers her portfolio. Max hesitates, checks the time, then sighs. It seems pointless to make the effort. She’s tried so many times, with so many other publications, and she doesn’t really want to work for Unmasked. But...but if she doesn’t at least send in the application, she knows that it’s the only thing she’ll think about on the bus to Seattle, and every day afterwards.

Max takes ten minutes to tweak her standard cover letter, then uploads it along with the last portfolio she put together to Unmasked’s site. It’s a half-assed effort, but at least she can say she tried.

She makes more of an effort at the birthday party, and actually has a pretty good time. It’s certainly better than any party she’s been to since she became, by numerical reckoning at least, an adult. Max tries not to dwell on what that says about her, and just takes comfort in the fact that she has money for food this week in one jacket pocket and a large slice of birthday cake in a ziplock bag in the other.

The night is young and seems rich in possibilities until the man with the shotgun decides to hold up the convenience store Victoria Chase is in. This was only meant to be a brief detour to acquire cigarettes and candy, but now it looks like Victoria’s whole night is about to be derailed. She stops trying to work out how much chocolate she’ll be able to carry in the pockets of her hoodie--while still leaving room for a pack of cigarettes--and watches the idiot attempt his robbery.

He barges up to the owner of the store, holding the shotgun in shaking hands, and stammers, “The re-register! Give it to m-me! I mean, fuck, the money! NOW!”

There’s some irony in the fact that he’s wearing a mask, Victoria supposes. She is, too, of course, in the form of her hoodie and sunglasses. Both of them want their anonymity, and things they’re not supposed to have. Both of them are going to fuck tonight up for each other.

Victoria could ignore this, of course. The gunman is shooting panicky looks around him, and he’s so unfocused that his shotgun isn’t even pointing directly at the old man behind the counter. The gunman isn’t likely to bother Victoria or any of the other customers in here. He isn’t looking to hurt anyone, and--barring an accident or reckless stupidity--it’s unlikely that anyone is going to die here. Victoria could ignore this, and she could slip away into the night before the police come, and she could go ahead with her clubbing plans.

But she won’t. It only takes one camera, one witness, one person seeing through her disguise and asking why she didn’t act, and then Victoria Chase will come under the wrong kind of scrutiny. The kind of scrutiny that could destroy her reputation, that could destroy her.

“Fuck my life,” Victoria mutters. “I mean, what are the fucking odds?”

Victoria checks her reservoirs as she walks quietly up the aisle towards the robber. It’s more of a reflex than a concern: she has more than enough juice to deal with this idiot. It would be nice to do this anonymously and disappear, but there’s no real way of making that work. Too many witnesses. Since she’s doing this, and appearances matter, Victoria takes her sunglasses off and tucks them into a pocket. She unzips the hoodie and shrugs it off. She’s wearing a white crop top underneath. It isn’t perfect, but at least the colour is on brand.

The old man behind the counter catches sight of her as she clears the shelves. His eyes widen in surprise. The gunman snatches a handful of notes from the old man’s shaking hand, seems to realise from his expression that something’s wrong, and spins to face Victoria. He swings the shotgun round, aiming the muzzle at Victoria’s chest, his finger tightening on the trigger…

Victoria lets a little of the power she has stored flow into her from her reservoirs, and everything seems to slow down around her as her body speeds up. She lunges forward, crossing the last couple of feet to the unfortunate robber, and seizes the barrel of the gun with one hand. Victoria twists the shotgun so that the muzzle is aimed at the ceiling and the robber’s trigger finger is jammed against the trigger guard. Victoria puts her other hand on the idiot’s shoulder and shoves.

Everything reverts to normal speed. The robber yells in shock, though it changes to pain when Victoria’s shove makes his back hit the grubby linoleum and his trigger finger breaks against the unyielding metal of his weapon. Victoria might get into some trouble for that later, but right now she’s firmly of the opinion: fuck this guy.

Victoria leans over and yanks the hockey mask off of his face. “Hi, there! Do you know who I am?”

He whimpers, then nods frantically.

“So we’re done here, right?”

He nods again. He eases his injured hand away from the shotgun, relinquishing it to Victoria, then rolls over and puts his hands on his head.

Victoria resists sighing. She safeties the gun and puts it on the counter. She puts on a smile for the shaking old man as she pulls Taylor’s phone out of her pocket. “Can you handle the call to the police?”

“I...I, of course! Thank you! Thank you so much, I--”

“That’s great!” Victoria says, hoping it doesn’t sound as insincere to him as it does to her. “I’d do it myself, but, you know…”

To her surprise, he laughs, and his shaking subsides. He grins at her, pulling himself upright. “You’ve stopped a crime, so it’s selfie time?”

“Exactly!” Victoria raises her phone, and the old man angles himself into the shot, still grinning happily. Victoria throws up a peace sign, smirks into the lens, dies inside, and takes the shot.

The police arrive ten minutes later, driving the rest of her night irrevocably off the rails. By the time she’s done giving her statement, Victoria’s latest selfie has over a thousand likes on Instagram and her father has texted her to let her know that he’s sent a car and that they are going to Have Words.

“Fuck my life,” Victoria whispers through her best fake smile as she waves and leaves the store, heading for the white Mercedes idling across the street. Victoria groans. “I didn’t even get any cigarettes. Fuck my bullshit superhero life.”

#life is strange fanfiction #my writing #lemme know what you think #if you'd be so kind

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trans-shuichisaihara · 6 years

Text

fake it till (we) make it - Scene 2

have i mentioned that i love kokichi? he’s such a little shit and i love that

(read on ao3)

Once his scattered mind begins to calm down, his first response is to shout, “What the hell’re you talking about?!”

Kokichi blinks at him, light fluttering of his eyelashes. “I meannnn, let’s fuck around with the tabloids and stuff. I’m bored and they all annoy me to no end, so I wanna pull a prank on them.”

Okay, he gets that, but- “Why with me?!”

“Becaaause,” he sighs out, “Everyone except Shuichi sucks and he’s going on tour next week. Plus he’s just a terrible actor. You at least have that going for you.” He then grins. “Plus, people eat shit like this up - you know, where the hero and the villain get together? That’s a really popular trope.”

“Dude, that was one time! And what happens when we have to film the sequel?!”

“You act as if this’ll last that long; it’s only gonna be like, maybe a month or two at max.”

A bead of sweat rolls down his face. “If it’s gonna be that short, then why can’t you find someone else?!”

Kokichi raises a brow at him. “Like who? No one would be thrilled to and you know it.”

“Well, uh-” He sputters. C’mon, there has to be someone- “What, what about that one guy, uh, Rantaro Amami?” There’d been some sort of rumor about them once, right?

“Taken. He’s a model anyway, always busy running around in a different circle. Only met him because his girlfriend was working on one of my sets designing outfits.” He sighs loudly, propping his chin on his hand. “He is really cute though...”

“Okay, uh, well...” He trails off awkwardly, trying to think of some other answer to give him. “What the hell do I get out of this? I’m not gonna ruin my reputation or anything just ‘cause you wanna screw around.”

“We’re not gonna fuck, so don’t worry about that.” Kaito has to bite back a reaction to the likely purposefully wrong interpretation of his words. “And I know people think I suck, but pretending to date me isn't going to ruin your rep, so...” He pauses for a long moment, before grinning as wide as he can. “You should just man up and help me prove the media is stupid as hell. I mean, I’m sure you hate them too, and you’re not scared of them, riiiight?”

Fuck. “Like hell I am,” he growls, massaging his temples, “I’ll do it, alright? You happy?”

He nods, grin still plastered across his face. “Yep! See you after your beauty rest, babe!” He winks and blows him a kiss.

An uncomfortable feeling immediately fills him. “Never call me that ever again and maybe I’ll sleep nightmare-free.”

“No promises!” He sings and turns away from Kaito before an argument can start, flopping back down on the couch and pulling out his phone to end all further conversation. He shakes his head and leaves Kokichi be; he has shit to do this evening, he needs at least some rest before his manager starts blowing up his phone asking where he is.

Stardom sucks when no one trusts your ability to get yourself dressed and show up with enough time for the makeup crew to do their thing.

He locks his bedroom door - just in case Kokichi decides he’s bored enough that he’s going to come and pester him more - before closing his curtains tightly to block out the morning sun that’ll soon rise. He then lies in bed for at least half an hour, despite his desire to just pass out into the realm of sleep.

Unfortunately, the tension building in his mind from his sudden deal with Kokichi makes it hard to do such a thing.

He can’t stop thinking about how the world will react to them dating. He’s not scared, it’s just- Even if it’s fake, no one would know that until it’s over, and even then it’s doubtful anyone would believe it. That’s just how fans were. He runs his hands down his face, exasperated with Kokichi, but also with himself; why the hell’d he just let himself get dragged into this?

His sleep ends up being restless, broken apart by frequent reawakening and his phone buzzing insistently. He isn’t in the mood to deal with whatever they need, so he throws his pillow over his head and ignores it.

After an unsatisfying 6 hours of sleep, he wakes up for real a bit before noon, body sluggish as he showers and throws on some shorts and a tee. He idly checks his texts as he’s making his way downstairs, astounded at the mess that was created while he slept.

Kokichi Owoma @real_ouma tweeted:

hanging out with the bae @kaitomomota #firstdate

Along with the heart emojis following the message, attached is that dumb selfie he wanted to take, which makes Kaito wonder if that was his goal all along. He pinches the bridge of his nose; the tweet already has well over 10 thousand likes and nearly half as many retweets, along with a fair number of replies. Most of them calling B.S. on it, which is a bit relieving.

He’s about to check the rest of his texts when he notices that Kokichi didn’t leave after he went to bed. Instead, he passed out on the couch, one of Kaito’s space-patterned comforters that he’s almost positive was in his bedroom closet pulled around him tightly. He’s tempted to wake him up and scold him for informing the world without permission, but he can’t be bothered. A sleeping Kokichi is a quiet Kokichi, after all.

He turns his attention back to his phone. Most of his texts are from his friends that have seen the tweet and are informing him of its existence. He doesn’t really post on his twitter, so it’s understandable that they would feel the need to let him know.

His manager is trying to give him advice for dealing with dealing with false rumors and offering to help make a public statement to shut it down, which causes him to sigh. If he has to guess, this looks like Kokichi attempting to stop him from backing out, and it works; it’d be more of a hassle to deny the rumors than to play along, after all.

He honestly doesn’t want to deal with any of this celebrity shit. He just wants to star in cool sci-fi films and be able to afford living in L.A. where all his friends are.

So, instead of answering any of the texts, he takes a picture of Kokichi sleeping for blackmail or something, then grabs his leftovers out of the fridge and tosses it in the microwave. He then sits down, pulling up the tweet again before making the decision to retweet it without any comments. Before he can regret it, he turns the notifications on his phone off and sets it aside, instead starting to make a grocery list for his upcoming trip to the store.

He’s contemplating getting them delivered instead when his lunch finishes with a loud beep, followed by a thud from the other room. He holds back a sigh; the silence he desired didn’t last nearly long enough.

“Huh?” In the living room, Kokichi hauls himself up, hair sticking up all over the place as he blinks sleep out of his eyes. In the time it takes him to grab a plate and dump his heated meal onto it, he reaches fully awake status and hurries into the kitchen to bother him. “Oh, you’re finally up!” His own phone is in his hands as he sits down in the chair next to his. “Did you see the-” For a moment, his face goes flat, before bouncing back to excited. “Oh, you retweeted it! Did you like it too?”

“Nah,” he answers, shoveling a bite of food into his mouth. After swallowing, he continues with, “By the way, thanks for that; had everyone and their mother blowing up my phone while I was sleeping.”

“You’re welcome!” He doesn’t miss a beat as he scrolls through the comments. “Hmm, it’s gonna take a lot of work to convince everyone. Care if I post about you getting ready for your day?”

“I do, actually; that’s really fuckin’ weird and won’t convince anyone of anything except that you’re a creep.”

He pouts. “Fine. But we really should talk about how we’re gonna do this.”

He scratches at the stubble along his jaw. “I guess. I’m not gonna make any gushy tweets or anything like that, before you ask.”

He hums. “Wasn’t gonna suggest anything like that. Let’s say... We’ve been officially dating for two weeks, keeping things on the down low, before we decided to come out about it last night.”

He coughs as an epiphany hits him. Fuck, he has to deal with that aspect of the media on him. “Dammit, I didn’t even think about that part. The media’s gonna be all over me for being, for being gay! Which, well, you know, isn’t a bad thing to be, but-” He can’t exactly say he isn’t when he went through that whole shebang in college, but he wasn’t wanting the world to know that.

Kokichi shrugs. “It was going to happen eventually. I mean, people have been suspecting you are since at least last winter due to the vague gay subplot going on in your latest film.”

Kaito’s forehead falls into his hand, covering his eyes. “God, can’t people tell the difference between fiction and reality anymore? That’s a fucking character-”

Kokichi’s phone rings, cutting him off. The two of them look towards it, Kokichi quirking a brow. “Oh, it’s Toujou, one sec.” He turns away from Kaito and answers the call with an obnoxiously fake shout of, “Good morning, Mom!”

Kaito rolls his eyes; he doesn’t know how Kokichi can address Director Kirumi Toujou like that. She’s scary intense when on set. He’s worked with her for two movies - both of them great, but both of them grueling to film due to her perfectionism and no-nonsense aura. He can hardly believe she’s only two years older than them with how huge the difference in maturity is.

To avoid eavesdropping on his conversation, Kaito gets up and begins to clean up his lunch and what remains of what was technically their breakfast, seeing as Kokichi didn’t bother to. He doesn’t mind doing household chores like this, honestly; he had to do them regularly while living with his grandparents. He’s faintly aware of eyes in his back as he tears up the pizza box to fit into his trash can and moves to begin washing the handful of dishes in the sink.

Finally, a loud sigh sounds from the other side of the kitchen, and he pauses to give him a glance. His phone is facedown, so the conversation is likely over. “What happened?”

“She wants me to come in today. Apparently, one of the cameramen screwed up on the shot we did a few days ago and she just noticed it and it’s bugging her. Important scene and all that.” He waves his hand. Kaito feels sorta bad for him; all scenes were important scenes to her, so this was likely not an actual emergency.

“Just one scene, right? Hopefully you won’t be there too long, then.” One scene could still take hours, but it’s still likely to be shorter than a full session.

“Dunno. You know how it is.” He stands, stretching. “Welp, good luck with your day. Interview tonight, right?”

“Damn, yeah.” He shuts the water off, drying his hands as Kokichi looks around for his car keys. “You know they’re gonna be all over me because of your tweet.”

“Good. Play along. If they ask you who made the first move, I asked you out, and you accepted because I’m ‘kinda cute’ - those exact words. If they ask, ‘only kinda?’, you respond by seeming embarrassed.” He finally locates and plucks up his keys from the ground in front of the sofa, almost hidden by the blanket draped along the side of the couch and onto the floor. “Honestly, it should be too easy to fool them.”

He has a whole script ready, huh. “Man, who died and made you director?”

“Unfortunately, no one; the universe isn't that kind as to rid the world of any of them,” he dramatically says, before he shakes his head and returns to a more neutral tone, “Anyway, I'll be back tonight; we can discuss the schematics of our act then. Don't say anything unnecessary, be vague, they can fill in any gaps themselves. Got it?”

He responds by shooing Kokichi out of his house. “Yeah yeah, don't worry. It'll be fine; I'm not stupid.”

#oumota #kokichi ouma #kaito momota #drv3 #ndrv3 #my post #fanfic #au #celebrity au

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deadlightsdrive · 6 years

Text

Why Mass Effect Andromeda Deserved a Chance

So Mass Effect: Andromeda (ME:A) was not an objectively bad game. It had good mechanics, as far as Bioware games go, and the graphics were up to scratch with most games. The game incorporated an new feeling of exploration, and utilized it open world capabilities more than the previous games. The plot was well written, it had good pacing (even though a lot of the pacing can come down to an individuals playing style), and the characters were at the very least interesting if not compelling. Admittedly some characters were flops, but that has happened in every Mass Effect game, if I’m being honest. So why does the majority of the Mass Effect (ME) fandom consider this new game in the franchise to be a flop?

This is a short discussion on why I believe the ME fandom should’ve given ME:A a chance. I’d love feedback, and to have a discussion with people about this, because the phenomenon I believe we see here is incredibly interesting.

ME:A was kind-of the fourth game in the ME franchise, though some might argue that it shouldn’t be included at all with the trilogy, I will continue to refer to it as the fourth installment of ME for the sake of ease.

In the game we play as either Sara or Scott Ryder (you can change the names, but if you keep the names, often other characters will refer to you with your first name instead of just ‘Ryder’.) a twin born on Earth, who joins their father, Alec Ryder, on the journey of a lifetime. Along with roughly 100,000 other souls aboard the Hyperion (the human ark) and countless other alien souls aboard their respective arks, the Ryder family has embarked on an approximately 600 year journey (beginning in the year 2185) to the Andromeda system, a neighbouring galaxy to our own Milky Way system.

In the Andromeda system we find that worlds our scientists previously designated as “golden worlds” have been destroyed, as of yet we don’t know by whom. Upon exploring the world designated for humans, we find a hostile alien race called Kett, who are the ones responsible for ruining our golden worlds, and plans for a new home.

Several mysteries appear that can be unraveled by the end of the game, such as your fathers hidden memories that you can gain access to, though that mystery is more of an ‘easter egg’. As the plot progresses we meet arguably two more alien races, the Angara, who are hostile at first due to their dealings with the Kett, but over time you form a diplomatic relationship with, and the Remnant, the remnant arguably aren’t a race, but I feel as though they can be counted. We also hear of another race, the Jardaan, who are a race that came before anyone else currently living in the Andromeda system. There’s plenty of mystery there, unfortunately you don’t get the chance to learn more about it in the game.

Another mystery you can’t learn more about is the Kett hierarchy. It is made abundantly clear to us, the audience, that the Kett leader, is, in fact, just a small-time boss, who is mostly doing his own things, much to the chagrin of his superiors. Near the end of the game there is a ‘Saren’-like ‘big reveal’ of how there is much more going on than just one rogue agent (Kett in this case, Reaper in the case of the original ME trilogy).

Here, is where I believe a lot of the fandom is getting annoyed. There is no true big bad, you are just Ryder, a confused little human, trying to navigate a new galaxy, blindly and meekly punching at an alien social structure you don’t understand in hopes of saving your people. You are not Shepard.

Shepard was a bad-ass in Mass Effect 2 (ME:2) and Mass Effect 3 (ME:3), and people got so used to that, I did too. To having a reputation bar to fill by charming or punching your way around the galaxy, telling the Reapers to suck it, because you knew what they were trying to do, you knew how they were going to do it, and you knew how to stop them.

That wasn’t the case in Mass Effect 1 (ME:1). In ME:1 you were much like Ryder, maybe with a bit more direction since you knew where you were and the politics surrounding you, but you were essentially punching blind at the Reapers systems, hoping to stop a threat you honestly didn’t understand. It wasn’t until Ilos that we began to understand the threat the Reapers posed, and it took us until the Collectors began harvesting people in ME:2 to completely understand the situation we were in.

I argue that a similar formula was followed in ME:A. We didn’t know what the hell the Kett wanted until the very end of the game, and really the first game was setting up for at least another one to follow it, just like ME:1 did. ME:A followed basically the same formula as ME:1, except it was heavier on the exploration than its predecessor, so why wasn’t it as loved as ME:1?

Because we had it too good for too long. We got used to being bad-ass Shepard who punched reapers in the face before they even brushed their teeth, and now that we were back to being on the same level as game one Shepard, on our own against politicians, and confused as all hell about what we were fighting, we got annoyed. Where’d my bad-assery go? Why is nobody taking me seriously? Admittedly getting rid of the reputation bar/morality system was a big mistake, it was what made ME its own game ,it was a system I, at least, have never seen replicated nearly as well as in the ME trilogy. Though even as Ryder you have a reputation, its just not quantitative or necessarily view-able.

In ME:1 you’re the first human specter, and you fought hard to have that right, you are paving the way for humanity in the Milky Way. In ME:A you take over from your father as the human Pathfinder, you have a basically unshackled AI in your head, and it is up to you to bring all the other races together to fight against the greater evil. That last bit might sound familiar, it’s almost as if EA and Bioware were following a formula that worked incredibly well before and arguably should’ve worked this time too.

Now I’m not a fan of open world games with fuck all in them, but lots of games like that are still received very positively, despite how frustrating it is. Despite the underwhelming open world and weird eyes, it was actually an interesting and, in my opinion, good game. I believe that they made the right decision in sticking to the aforementioned formula, and just changing the setting and improving upon what they already had, the downfall was in the fandom, that we forgot what it was actually like to not be a legend.

Now I could talk about the characters and archetypes that were followed and weren’t followed, like how we didn’t have an obvious Garrus archetype (an archangeltype, if you will) but this is already over a thousand words long, and that’s a whole other post. This is a bit of a mess but it’s been sitting in my drafts since the beginning of time, and I don’t want to leave it here till the universes heat-death so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#my post #mass effect

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oneofthemillionarmy · 6 years

Text

Get Uugly

To: @fromthe-seoul - Merry Christmas!!!

M for mature content

“Oh wow, you are so cold.” Whatever answer you have is muffled into your boyfriend’s shirt, but the shiver that vibrates against Namjoon’s chest is enough of an answer. It’s a cold, dark, and rainy day conveniently placed under the umbrella of Christmas holidays, so neither of you need to go to work. A perfect excuse to lay in bed cuddling. Both of you have a marathon of Christmas movies queued up one after the other, a little treat for his princess Lauren, Namjoon said. But you’re not watching the movie. Instead, you’ve got your head against his chest, pulling on his hoodie and shivering. Taking matters into his own hands, quite literally, Namjoon attempts to rub heat into your arms and back. It’s lovely and comforting, how he traces stars into your skin, but it does nothing to chase away the cold seated in your bones. So you flip yourself around and shuffle till your back is against his and shove his arm under your own. Namjoon is laughing, if little Lauren wanted to be the little spoon she could have just asked, but instead of vocalizing the thought he opts for pulling you tighter against his chest. There needs to be a certain state of relaxation for one to get a boner, and the boner that Namjoon has is a mindless one, just cosiness and warmth that pulls him into a subtle arousal. Your boyfriend is so captivated by the scent of your hair, the dip in your hips on his arm that slings over you, and the rhythm to the rise and falls of your breaths. That is until you wiggle backwards. Whilst Namjoon had been arguably not-so-conscious of the increased blood flow to his “region”, he is fuckin’ aware of that now. There’s a surge of blood that shoots right into his groin, leaving him a little light headed. But you don’t need to know that, everything is perfect (aside from the blue balls that he is most definitely going to get) and he is not about to ruin this moment. Maybe if he just tactfully pries his hips away from you… You’re comfortable underneath the covers, in the cusp of warmth. Suddenly you feel your personal human heater inch slowly and unfairly away from you. Nope, no way you’re letting that happen. You make a forceful shift backwards… …right on Namjoon’s dick. Shit shit shit, play it off Namjoon, play it off. Maybe he should just lay on his back and pull your head to his chest instead. Nope, that’ll create a visible tent in the blankets. What Namjoon doesn’t expect is the way you sensually smush your butt on his genitalia. His dick feels so hot and heavy under your butt, inducing juices in your centre. It’s involuntary, the way you continue grinding down on him. But oh fuuuck, it feels so good. You’re pushing your hands underneath his shirt, hazily soaking in the groves in his stomach, ripples of muscles that can’t be seen by the naked eye. A part of you is anxious, afraid even, that it’s too much, that he’ll pull away from you, but you’re clouded with desire and you let your hands make the decision. Your boyfriend tenses with your touch, and you can hear a sharp intake as you toy with the waistband of his jeans. It’s a question, something you can’t quite manage to get out of your throat and Namjoon knows. But he needs to hear you say it, needs to make sure it’s the right question implied. “Baby, are you okay with this?” Namjoon catches your hand in his own. “Please, please can I touch you Namjoon?" Your plea leaves him hot and breathless, whispering ‘fuck’ under his breath before giving a shaky exhale. "Yes, baby. Yes, you c-can.” Namjoon groans deep at the feeling of your hands fluttering over his clothed cock. For reasons he doesn’t fully understand it feels so, so much better than his own hand even over the jeans and it makes him buck forward into your palm. Your hand wraps around the length, pulling downwards. He wants you closer, wants to touch you so badly, so when you lean back into his chest, he immediately grabs your hips and noses your hair, inhaling.

“Can we please turn off your computer? I can’t do this with an 8 year old on the screen.” You're grimacing, pulling off of him.

On cue, one of the big bad robbers lets out a large scream and tumbles down the stairs in a crash.

Once he turns back, he’s greeted by a tug on his shirt, causing him to tumble. Luckily, you and the bed are there to catch him, and you waste no time latching your mouth on his neck. You can’t leave any hickeys as much as you’re dying to, so you settle for dragging your lipstick over the expanse of his neck. You run your tongue, scraping your teeth where you would have otherwise left an imprint, and Namjoon growls at this. His girlfriend can’t bruise him, but Namjoon can most definitely do the opposite, to which he grants you exactly that swerving so fast that his mouth lands on the soft side under your ear and jaw and sucks. Your hands fly right to his hair and run though them, holding on them lightly enough so it doesn’t hurt but just enough so it’s like you’ve got something to grip on. Namjoon works away on your neck, marking his territory, whilst you let one of your hand travel back to his crotch. A firm squeeze has him biting down on your collarbone, and you repay him by pressing the heel of your palm further on his cock. Suddenly his dick twitches right at the jeans and you can’t take it any more, pulling away from his touch to his erection from the confines of his jeans.

Now that his dick has expanded, it is inexplicably more difficult to get his skinny jeans off. You’re pulling his zipper down tentatively, afraid it’s going to snag over his cock, although it just makes him restless, bucking up to meet more friction. It takes restraint, and you can tell he’s trying whilst you’re popping the buttons off. You try and tug both his pants and his boxers in one motion. Of course it doesn’t work, nonetheless, Namjoon takes both sides of his jeans and slides them down so they crumple around his thighs. Letting his erection flop onto his stomach.

“Oh.” That’s a small gasp from your side.

It’s a worry Namjoon has at the back of his head, with his reputation that comes along with his job, fangirls guessing the size of his dick. Extremely high pornstar-like expectations which he definitely cannot fulfil.

“Yeah… It’s a bit…” Small? Not as thick? Disappointing? He doesn’t actually want to hear the end of the sentence, even though he doesn’t have to, doesn’t even get to the end of the sentence because you’ve got your lips on his right now and your hand wrapped around his dick.

It’s returned to a semi from his anxiousness, but he still sighs when you start tugging your loosely fitted fist up and down. Your movements are experienced and confident, getting the blood flowing right where it needs to be. A part of him wonders, out of curiosity, how many people you’ve done this with. However that’s your business, and he’s quick to pry himself out of the thought before it transforms into something bad.

“It’s just that I need to uh, prep for this first.” You say sheepishly.

What with the lack of experience your boyfriend doesn’t really understand your statement. Not until he catches your hand in your pants, that’s when he really really gets it.

The “Oh” that escapes him is as much of an indication causing you to smack your head right into his shoulder. Your hands have stopped whatever they’re doing to curl into his shirt, refusing to budge lest he sees the inferno on your cheeks.

“If that’s okay with you Namsy.”

“O-of course Lauren. Yeah, that’s completely okay with me.” Your boyfriend interjects with maybe a bit too much enthusiasm.

Wow, what a great reply Kim Namjoon. He winces and you laugh, good-natured and awkward, a device Namjoon usually uses to deflect tension. He overlaps your guffaw with his own and stays put standing at the edge of his bed whilst you shuffle backwards on your knees. You flop down onto the pillows hitching your hips up and pulling your sweats down, and it’s only then he reaches forward to lift your hips and tug them down. After tossing them to the side, he glances back to find you, with your top off and one hand in your undies.

Namjoon is too tall to be on the bed the way he is, even when he scoots forward he finds his calves somewhat dangling off the end. Still, it’s okay, it’s more than good when he places his hand on your hipbone. He traces his fingers along your hips then hooks them in the band of your underwear.

“You’re gonna help me slide my panties off?” You find your boyfriend sexy, you really do, but the way he looks at your cotton briefs like it was simultaneously the raunchiest lingerie and a 101 puzzle chastity belt makes you seriously question that predicament.

“Can we not bring up that song? I was eighteen when I wrote that okay.” When he had wayyyyy too much bravado and no idea about anything about the female anatomy.

Now, though Namjoon knows more than nothing, he knows enough to know that he knows close to nothing.

“Maybe I should dim the lights down, baby.”

Your retort has him irritated, yanking your panties down so hard that they scrape and tear off at one leg. The motion in and of itself is swift, but the jut of his chin and the furrow in his brows have you clenching your fingers and your jaw hanging over in a silent exhale. It takes a few seconds for him to actually register, and you soak in his frustration right into your core. When he does realize what he’s done though, a string of apologies tip over his tongue and you stutter through your own words.

“It’s fine! It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s… really hot, actually.”

Hot? An eyebrow quirks upwards and he doesn’t try to conceal the wicked grin that spreads across his face. And you positively blush right under his gaze, giving him exactly the fodder he needs, keep that cocky smirk. A couple memories bounce in his mind, when Jimin teased you about a lewd lyric that Namjoon wrote that couldn’t make the cut, that one time he found your maid costume and the look on your face, and oh god, he want to eat you out while you dust the table, have you under him, that pretty red and pink blooming on your face as you ride him in his studio with his hand on your mouth so you don’t make noises. However, it all dissipates when he turns his focus between your legs.

First, the scent hits him like a punch to the side of his head, smacking all common sense out of him. When his eyes come back into focus, he’s met with two digits pushing in and out the pretty pink of your pussy. Then these sounds, these fucking sound of your whimpers mixing with the sound of your wetness float into his ears in a song better than anything he’s written. Oh god, he can die a happy man right now.

“Joonie? You’re drooling.”

Right on cue, a fat droplet falls in globules onto your thigh. He kinds of wants to lick it off, then move his tongue over to taste your wetness, yet he doesn’t. He stays right there, dumbstruck while you slip your fingers in and out, faster. He doesn’t look up, but if he did, he would have noticed the fondness in your gaze.

“Baby, can I?” He can’t speak, can’t really articulate what he wants to say, what he wants to do.

“Huh?”

“Can I…” Words die off on his tongue and morph into action.

Namjoon places the pads of his fingertips on your entrance and press into them, rubbing circles just to feel. Juices gush out almost immediately, and he takes that as a cue to spread your pussy lips and push his palm into them, letting his tip of his index finger tap gently at your clit. Your mouth spills out whimpers and whines as you lift your hips towards him. It makes his pride swell (and also his dick), and he realises he’s literally and figuratively got you in the palm of his hand. A++, 5 points to Gryffindor.

“Nammms, ah shit, please stop teasing me.” You whine, thrusting into his hand.

“But I like teasing you.” Namjoon quirks, even though he obliges in your request, because he likes making his girlfriend feel good more than he likes teasing you. Maybe later though, maybe when he knows better he can have you bent over his knee with your wetness dripping down your legs he’ll play with your slit and make you beg for him to push in. For now though, he’s happy to comply.

Your plea hitches in your throat when Namjoon slides between your folds and you shudder at the sensation of his fingers, so much larger and longer than yours reaching places where you couldn’t.

In some cases, no amount of textbooks (Wikipedia and Naver) or visual aids (it’s porn, and he watches pleeeeennnntttyyyy of that) can prepare you for the real thing and Namjoon is slightly taken aback by how soft and warm you feel, nearly sucking his fingers in. Better safe than sorry, he goes at an agonizingly slow pace in fear of hurting his precious girlfriend.

While your sweet, sweet loving boyfriend is not doing a bad job, it doesn’t get you where you need to be. You’ve gathered throughout knowing him, that he’s not that experienced, though that is not a problem at all. You can always teach him.

Namjoon’s a bit surprised when you take his fingers out, but he bites down his worries of inadequacy and lets you take charge. He lets you flip his hand over so his palm is facing the ceiling, inserts them back in, and start pushing his hands at the pace that you want. It doesn’t take any time for him to catch up, and he’s setting a good speed when he inserts another one.

“Please please please please, Na-amjoon, please I want you in me.”

An evil, evil grin splits across his face as he utters his next words carefully.

“But princess, I am inside you.”

“Use your words Lauren.”

“I wa–ah-ah-ant your cock. Please, Namjoon, please, I want your cock inside me. I want you close to me. I want you so much.”

Annnndddd then he remembers he doesn’t have a condom. He didn’t expect this, he honest to god didn’t expect Christmas cuddling to turn into Christmas sex at all, and he’s internally swearing at himself for throwing the condom back at Yoongi after Yoongi tossed them in his direction.

He tells you just that, and this time, you’re the one that springs out of bed and gets your shin knocked against the cupboard. Trying to ignore the pain, you pull out your box of sex stuff and hurry back to the bed. As you dump all the contents, your now shirtless boyfriend reaches to coo and rub at the injury.

Legs open wide, you flop back down eagerly like a good girl. You watch with bated breath while waiting for Namjoon to move. What you’re not expecting is for your boyfriend to pull your bruised shin towards him and place a soft kiss over it. The moment is so loving that you very nearly catch yourself saying those three words that is always a bad idea to say during sex. Finally he eases in, inch by tortuous inch until he’s completely engulfed by the tight heat of your cunt.

From the proximity, you can feel him shiver above you, barely able to keep himself up. And you’re bracing yourself with an internal chuckle for fear of the moment he’s going to collapse on you.

“Namsy? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he croaks, there’s beads of sweat that line his forehead, “it’s just that I’ve never…”

“Wait, Joonie, you’re a virgin?”

Namjoon takes a glance back down almost unbelievably where your bodies are connected.

“Not anymore apparently.”

The implication of his words don’t hit you at once. Namjoon chuckles, sending vibrations directly to your core and your giggles morph into a moan. But then it does, and your mouth moves before you can really register what you’re saying.

“Oh shitttttttttttttt. Ah I should have guessed.”

Namjoon laughs, a short string of ha’s to mask his insecurities, however you know him long enough to see that it’s out of self deprecation. And you bring your hand out to catch him before he loses himself.

“Namjoon!” It’s almost startling, the way you shout at him even though he’s literally centimeters away from you, but it catches his attention and masks the sound of your heart beginning to rip apart.

“It’s like, I would have acted differently, like take care of you more…” You trail off in a whimper because you know that they’re going to have the opposite effect.

Namjoon visibly grimaces and really of all the the times you could have fucked up, now? Really? Get your shit together Lauren. Your brain trips and stumbles and falls over your words with too many emotions that all surround love, to which your throat cracks and lets though the words that ring the loudest.

“Namjoon, I don’t want perfect, I just want you.”

Namjoon, has one of these frightening looks taht are both hard and soft at the same time, holding so much emotion that if you reached out and touched his face they’d be vibrating on your hand. It’s something that means something and you can only wait with bated breath. There’s an animal like sound that claws at his chest and it burns into a flame that wraps around your head and claims you. He almost pulls out completely when he moves down to kiss you fully on the lips. Unhurried mellow brushes on your lips as they slowly turn into deep open mouthed kisses that have him growling inside his chest and you running your hands over his sides. You shift your hips in a way that has more of him inside you.

The height difference makes it difficult for him to kiss you, but he tries anyways. It’s nowhere close to perfect. Sometimes his lips catches the tip of your nose, sometimes your teeth graze the bottom of his chin, but it makes the both of you giggle.

You want your own release too, of course you can’t deny what your body wants. But it’s a thought that you easily slot in the back of your mind to focus on him. Obviously, there really isn’t that much you can do in missionary position, but he is substantially taller for you to have room to roll your hips up and down. So you do just that.

“Fuckin hell Lauren,” Namjoon pants, pulling way to look at you “You feel so fucking good, so hot, rolling your hips li-ike thatfor me."

Even though you reckon it’s not going to take him much to cum, still you ask him to tell you when he’s about to. His reply consists of a fist in your hair and a shaky whisper that he will, but he isn’t going to last much longer.

Maybe it’s your deep-seated desire to just please, maybe it’s your praise kink, or maybe it’s because despite the fact he’s kind of struggling to hold himself upright he still makes the effort to make you feel good; this stirs something in you, forcing you to redouble your efforts, clenching your core in a rhythm that makes his hips stutter.

"O-oh fuck. Princess, I’m s-so close fuck.” A part of him wants to hold it, to bring his princess to release and then find his own.

“P-Please,please, please cum inside me. Please Joonie, please cum inside me. I want you to cum inside me so badly.” It’s a bold, fruitless request when you can still feel the texture of rubber in you. Honestly it’s not really his cum filling up your pussy that you want right now, even though the very idea has you whimpering into his hold. It’s the thought of watching him fall apart above you that you need, even more than your own orgasm.

“Mmmmy, my baby girl’s gonna maa-ake me cum.”

You don’t see him cum, you couldn’t anyways with the height difference and his head buried above you into the mattress. Yet you feel him cum, you feel his cock twitch and harden and his convulsions as he collapses on top of you. It’s so so much more when he whispers stray ‘I love yous’ and broken syllables that sound like your name, and you kiss all the skin you can reach as he fucks you through his orgasm.

It’s lovely, looking at him with his front towards the ceiling and his head facing your, and you can’t help but scoot over, wanting to rest your head on his chest.

“Does my princess want to cum?”

Your stomach is churning again in all the right ways and yet you’ve basically been on edge for most of this night, and you really want to. And the grip that his hands have on your jaw is dangerously close to your neck and it would be so easy, so fucking easy for him to choke you while he brings you to ecstasy. But Namjoon looks so tired and worn out, and he means so, so much more than sex so you just let the words find themselves again.

“If you want to. It’d be nice to cum, but I’m really just happy to rest with you if you’re tired. You came and that’s enough for me.”

The deliciously sinister gaze on your boyfriend’s face melts away into somethings so so soft and tender like he’s looking at heaven’s creation and nothing less. It is too much, and you feel so vulnerable, almost unworthy of such adoration. So you duck your head down to escape his stare. Namjoon’s hold on your face loosens as he tips your head upwards to look at him and

“I am going to make my princess cum for me.” He says with his lips pressed to your forehead.

“You’ve been so, so fucking good to me, I want you to cum for me, okay Lauren? Do whatever you need to princess. I’m gonna take care of you now.”

If he just knew more, he would have loved to reward you, spread your legs and put his mouth and make you cum just from him. He’s content with this though, watching you grind back on his hands and roll your clit between you fingers. Experimentally, he curls his fingers upwards to rub against your walls and you gasp, bucking into his hand and he is definitely going to do that again later. He’s trying to memorize every moment, from the contortions on your face, to the rhythm of your finger to the way you handle your clit.

You cum from a combination of his fingers in your pussy, praises on his tongue and your hand on your clit. Even though it’s not the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, it’s the one that makes you feel the most, has your heart hammering in song and his name and something that looks a lot like love.

————–

“Wait, Namjoon, I gotta go pee.”

“Do you have to? Right this second?” Your boyfriend whines, you did not expect him to be so clingy and cuddly after sex, yet so are you.

“No, but I’ve had a yeast infection before and it was one of the worst things I’ve ever experienced.”

On command, he releases you with a “Go.” causing you to laugh at his comically quick reaction.

“Oh by the way,” you start just as you grapple one of his shirts off the floor just to cover yourself a little, “guys can get bacteria related infections even after having sex with someone without STDs. Go after me okay?”

“Thanks mom." "Oh god. Don’t call me mom. NEVER call me mom after sex.” The look you give him is absolutely horrified and you actually shudder. "The Mommy and Daddy kink and calling someone mom and dad is TWO completely different things.“

"So you have a daddy kink?” Namjoon smirks, and you clam your stupid mouth shut with your beet red face and run to the toilet.

It’s a few minutes later when you’re curling over his side of your single bed and starting to shiver, waiting to crawl back into his arms.

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