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messwriting · 3 years

Text

Written for The Smut Pile Collab: Western AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

(my saddle’s waiting) ride it

Iwaizumi “Big Guns” Hajime x Female Reader

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Warnings: Being ridiculous in front of your crush. Porn With Plot. Not researched strippers industry. Lowkey exhibitionism. Oral in a public space (bathroom); Cock-blocked Interrupted orgasms; Masturbation/fingering; Fingering in public (street), then while driving. Driving while fingering? Unsafe driving. Fucking against a door, then a wall. Alcohol and mentions of drugs. Side Tendou/Oikawa. Bit of a teasing, overconfident Iwachan. A poor excuse of oblivious colleagues to lovers.

Word count: WAY TOO BIG. +11k.

Note: 🤠 Brought by your wicked duo degenerates, Saint Dymphna and me: LAWBREAKERS MULTIVERSE 🤠 electric bogaloo

You guys know the drill @dymphnasprose started this all with their tempting ways! It was the image of Iwaizumi all oiled up, working in his garage like Channing Tatum that made me cave and do this. Once again, being with Dymph is nothing short of amazing and I LOVE THEM 🥺💕💕

This is wayyyy too ploty for something where I just wanted people to bang, but you guys know how I get with Iwaizumi. I’m not totally happy about how this turned out but honestly I have no time to work on it and it has to be out. You guys will realize I went full myself with Reader’s crush on Iwaizumi in this. Sorry not sorry.

Biiig, huuuuuge thanks to both @vanille--kiss and @oneblonded for their help in beta-ing this, you guys are incredible. 💕 As always a big thanks to @mixedhell who always helps me when I’m troubled <3

Iwa’s song: Pony (of course)

You can also read: MAKKI | MATTSUN

You check your phone and realize you’re late… again.

You hate, hate, hate morning classes, but if you want to be in time for your internship and still have time to study and, well, live, you’re obligated to accept the first class of the day on a Friday. You hate it, and you hate it even more that it’s how you have to end your week but you’ve made peace with it.

That doesn’t mean you can actually get there in time, reason why you’re twenty minutes late running with your keys and coffee in one hand while you try to balance both your books and your backpack with the other. And when you push the door with your hip, it makes a loud squeaking noise while opening, ruining both your quiet entry and bringing everyone’s eyes on you, of course, because when have you ever been granted a fucking break, right?

“Sorry!” You murmur while trying your best into making a curt bend, and your professor looks over his glasses to you in a very pointed manner but other than that he resumes what he was speaking on before.

You know he hates you being late (especially as a repeat offender) but you’re a fairly participative student and you regularly earn one of his top grades, so you think that buys you some slack -- and leverage. You go to your habitual seat by the wall, and try your best not making any other noises while you set everything in their places and, thankfully, a moment later, you’re able to breathe while in your seat, with your open computer and notes ready. You give yourself about twenty seconds to drink a bit of your coffee and check out where in the topic the professor is lecturing about.

“That’s why Iwaizumi-san will be receiving your papers. I’ll be returning to the next week, and in the time being, he’ll be doing the full TA hours. If you have any questions just ask him and remember to schedule appointments before-hand, if possible.” Your professor states something that makes it clear you lost some important announcement at the beginning of the class and your eyes fly to Iwaizumi in response, but the man is just sitting at his normal place, front class, quietly nodding to the professors’ explanation while his big hands fly over his notepad.

You sigh, wistfully, and take another sip of your coffee while your eyes thread over his form, clad in loose jeans that still seem tight in those amazing thighs of his and a hoodie that doesn’t do much to hide those incredible arms. Iwaizumi isn’t very tall, but he’s still taller than you and his shoulders are broad enough to engulf anything behind him when you stand too close. God, you wished Iwaizumi would do full TA hours on you anytime. He could work you into overtime too, you certainly don’t mind.

You gulp down the saliva that overflows your mouth with some coffee and leaves another small breath to accompany your thoughts.

You snicker just a bit and Iwaizumi’s eyes are suddenly on yours and your blood pressure peaks in a second while you choke on your coffee. Your teacher asks if you’re okay and you are obligated to answer yes while trying to shrink into the chair.

See. Incredible track-record.

You manage to not make a complete clown of yourself during class again and even win over some praise from your professor for your contributions in the debate about ethical issues and patient safety. It’s usual that you and Iwaizumi end up interacting with each other’s input in debates but he was quiet today and when you’ve made an addition to his comment about unhelpful patients and mandatory rest all he did was nod and roll his jaw. As if you know what the fuck that means.

You chalk it up to him stressing over being in full TA hours for the week and when the class ends you stay in your seat while finishing typing some notes before you blink and they’re suddenly lost in your brain. When you look up and start packing your things you realize there’s only you and Iwaizumi left in the class and notice he’s looking directly at you, almost as if he was waiting for it.

You don’t think there’s another man who can look so dashing before ten am and with just a small corner lip smile, but hey, you’re not complaining.

“Hey,” he says a one-word greeting and holds his hand up and your heart leaps before you can manage to send a smile his way. Ah, it’s really unfair how cute he is.

“Hey Iwa,” you greet back in a fair tone even if you feel a bit hot in the face, “You were unusually quiet today.”

He smirks and his hand clasps his neck for a moment while he scratches his hair. “Aa, just busy.” He hooks his backpack over his shoulder and walks over to you while you’re still packing your books. “You lost the warning, right?”

“Yeah, late. Something important?”

“Nothing big. It’s the deadline for the midterm article, which you lost the explanation to but here--” He extends you his open notepad and you see the notes and instructions there, scribbled in block letters not very neatly, but fairly organized. You look it over briefly, confirm that is nothing different from the normal and bring your phone to take a picture.

“Thanks, Iwa. Do you need any help with the TA hours?”

“Nah. It’s all fine. I organized my internship last month to have this week off.”

“Oh, smart,” you say as you swing your backpack over your shoulder and pick up your purse and the single book that couldn’t fit with your laptop in it. Iwaizumi makes you nervous. You’re fairly sure it’s because of the massive fucking crush you have on him. “Well, let me know if you need help.”

“Thanks,” you notice that he stays there looking at you for a second more... And then a few seconds more.

“Is everything okay?

“You’ve been getting to class late a lot,” his eyes turn wide when he realizes what he just blurted out and the small pink dust atop his cheeks could be the thing that ends up killing you. Your brain gets lost in a chant of CUTECUTECUTE and for a moment you resist the urge to clench your books to your chest. “The professor asked me to see if everything was okay.”

“Oh, ah…” You actually force a bit of laugh out at that, surprised and a bit breathless. Dammit, you monitor two classes and then suddenly being a little bit late becomes a crime. “It’s nothing, actually. I’m just not a morning person. And I hate early classes, but I needed to get this one because of my internship, so I’m struggling with the time.”

Iwaizumi nods and even gives you a short smile while you two start walking alongside one another out of the class. “Ah, you should really fix your sleep schedule. You know the drill, eight hours every night.”

“You mean that impossible thing?” You laugh and thank him when he opens the door for you two to pass. Hot and a gentleman, God really has favorites. “I’m trying, but it’s easier said than done and I’m something of a night owl.”

“Brat. You’re just on your phone until late,” Iwaizumi snickers and you all but gasp, and before you can say anything he’s signaling to the other side you’re going. “I still have classes, see you on the TA hours?”

“Yeah, I have two days of TA next week,” you manage to squeak out without making a fool of yourself after he calls you a brat and even smiles his way despite the way you feel a sudden heat wave over your body.

“Nice. See you then.”

“Bye Iwa.”

You scurry off the other side and when you turn a corner you stop and do something absolutely ridiculous that is an internal scream with your head against the wall. You press your forehead against the cold tile and breathe about two or three times, all while your mind goes into overheat after a small talk with Iwaizumi Hajime, the hottest, most amazing Teacher Assistant this Physical Therapy course must have ever had.

You hear someone saying your name while you try to recover and when you look to your side your heart sinks to your stomach as your eyes turn into plates. Hajime is looking at you funny, holding out a small paper to you and probably wondering if you’re okay in the head. Of course it’s him. It wouldn’t be you if this didn’t happen.

“Ahhh, hi again?” You squeeze out in a weird breathless voice and Iwaizumi’s eyes seem to turn a pretty dark shade while his lips spread in a grin.

“You let this fall.”

Sure, of course, you dumbass did.

“Are you okay?”

“Thanks, Iwa. I was uhhh just…” You press your lips because your mind is blank and then God decides to cut you some slack with a momentaneous brilliance. “I forgot an important thing was due tonight and yeah, I was just screaming at myself.”

“Anything I can help with?”

Yes. Marry me. Or just fucking, you’re not picky.

Your whole face burns and you lower your eyes for a moment because the images assaulting you are just too much. Iwaizumi looks just so good up close, all sharp jawline and hard planes on that spiky jet-black hair and green eyes. Jesus Christ, looking like that should be illegal.

“No, it’s just something for this bachelorette party I have tonight.” God decides to grace you with some more lying skills and you thank them internally. There’s even a smile on your face.

Iwaizumi nods away with your explanation.

“Ohh,” He says with a smirk and your heart does a leap. “That’s nice. Give the bride my congrats.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell her.” Then, he extends the paper again and you finally grab it, once again making a fool of yourself to him. “Sorry, thanks for this.”

Iwaizumi just nods and smiles your way, quickly turning back and leaving after saying goodbye and waving your way. This time you have half a mind to search a bathroom before screaming for real.

Honestly, you cannot believe where you are right now. Lawbreakers. The name is written in a pretty calligraphy font in bright fucking neon that simply demands attention in the dark of night. It’s the final stop of the bachelorette party of your good friend to which you are late. From the group text, everyone is at least nicely buzzed and you’ve been laughing with the ridiculous pictures the group of women have been sending you non-stop while calling you a buzzkill.

As your car pulls into the front of the place, you just can’t help but snort. It’s cheesy, definitely tacky but nice, a use of the western theme that actually plays well.

Outside there’s a neon cowboy riding a horse and you just… can’t help but be amused. There’s a small line of women waiting even when it’s already late but you walk up front as your friend had told you too, perks of being a member of the VIP entourage of women partying in the allegedly last night for your friend to be free.

The doorman lets you in quickly and just as you’re passing the threshold a tall, pretty and lean, but built man clad in nothing but a white outfit rolls to your side, offering a flute of sparkling wine from a tray.

“Well, look at that.” The smile he sends you is trained, but charming and you can’t help but smile back. “We truly do have the prettier customers. Can I offer you some champagne? Maybe something stronger?”

You’re just bringing your hand up to say no when you stop, muse about how much catching up you’ll have to do with your friends inside and shrugs. “Well, better get a head start, right?”

“Yes!” He congratulates you, standing too close as he brings you a flute and deposits on your fingers, his hand trailing on your pulse for a moment before he lets go. Then, he throws you another charming smile, the mischief reaching his eyes this time. “That’s a good girl~”

You try to hide the way his charm works by letting your mouth fall in a small laugh, but something tells you he catches that either way. That, you think, is what you call a seasoned pleaser.

“Thank you.”

Your cheeks are heating the tiny bit as you scurry off the corridor to the club insides, following the loud music and increasingly louder screams.

“Enjoy the show!” The man chuckles behind you and you raise your glass in acknowledgment, hurrying inside to do just that.

Honestly, it’s not what you were expecting.

As you pass the wooden saloon doors at the end of the corridor, the sound of screaming surrounds you as physical waves, washing through your body in such a high pitch you stumble in your heels. The energy inside makes you unable to not enjoy yourself automatically, surrounded by tables of women and a few groups of men all completely enthralled on the show that’s already happening inside.

For starters, western decoration aside, you were definitely not expecting to see your friend, the bride-to-be, being grinded on stage.

The strawberry-blonde male is thrusting against the center of your friend's legs, precise and exciting wave-like motions that clearly are making everyone inside, your friend included, lose their minds. He grinds and holds himself up, moves your friend around as if she’s a doll and humps her behind. It looks so sinful and still in perfect beat with the song and for a second your mind just-- short circuits, hand shooting to your mouth as the laughs tip over loud and hearty. Your friend is burning in embarrassment at the way the man is moving and grinding on her, hands almost locked on her body as if she thinks she can’t move or something will just blow up.

Then again maybe she’s the one who’ll blow up, being so close to such a fucking hot man. You can definitely see how that would make her blow a fuse, completely not used to this kind of thing.

You manage to stop laughing at your friend losing it on stage and quickly spot the table, the balloons that have been featured in lots of pictures making themselves seen: bright teal things stating “one dick forever”. Every single one dressed in black and with their current bright plastic cowboy hat. It could be worse; if the place wasn’t so fitting with it’s bright lights and mixed decorations ranging from cowboy neon signs and saddles in place of stools.

By the time you manage to walk over amidst the screaming and join in on the girls fun, the showman has finally let your friend go in prol of fishing another happy bride and she looks every bit completely shaken as you’ve thought.

“Hey, baby, you good?” The slit in her white dress is higher, clearly a side effect of the way the man hiked her legs just so…open, and you chuckle at how she huffs a breath out and let herself fall against the cushions, both parts pent up and mortified.

Well, you’re already liking the place.

Then, one of the other bridesmaids presses a full plastic flute of champagne to your hand, calls everyone up to a toast and you let yourself fall back into the festivities. Your friend seems to be having a hard time coming back from the heated grinding session in the middle show, to which she excuses herself from the table and reassures everyone that she’s fine. Still, you pull her on the side, ask her once again if she’s okay, to which she just explains she needs some air.

God, you understand.

You were about to follow her when another bridesmaid pulled you into a hug, happily chatting about how this place was incredible, and trying to fill you in on the fun you missed by being late. Your eyes accompany your friend for a moment, seeing as she walks a bit clumsy but otherwise fine to the corridor that leads to the bathroom. Well, she would be fine.

The current show ends and the lights glow brighter, finally allowing you to check out the place. The Lawbreakers Club is nice and full; filled to the brim with groups of women and men around and apparently yours is not the only bachelorette party taking place in the western-themed strip bar. The waiters are wearing skimpy little clothing, the place decorated as a cross-theme of magic mike and an imitation of a western saloon.

Then, before you can even finish the current drink you have in your hands, the lights go down once again while the stage is lightened up in bright neon. You’re all close enough and with an amazing stage view to catch when a very tall, very pretty, brunette who welcomed you earlier comes to the middle of the stage.

The crowd goes immediately wild as the song is lowered to a simple mumble in the background and the man walks slowly to the center stage, open hands and the devastating smile of someone who knows they’re all that and more.

Bit obnoxious but hey, there’s a literal horde of women screaming for him. You’d say it’s acceptable.

“Well, well, well, look like we have a full house tonight.”

The screaming reignites, sounding even louder since they also come from your own table and you can’t help but laugh.

“Are you guys ready for the next show?” The crowd screams a resonant yes. “Good. Let us make a lot of noise for two of our best, biggest outlaws around.” As the cheers erupted once again, you can actually hear some names being called, all revolving around names with big, pretty or animals thrown around.

“Did someone actually scream for Issei Horsecock?” You ask the bridesmaid closer to you and both of you laugh when she says yes. “Oh, wow.”

“Yes, yes, you know the ones. Now, let’s make our Big Guns flustered with the warm welcome, you know what a big softie he actually is under all that hard, big, brute exterior.” It’s actually enthralling to see Oikawa dealing with the crowd, you can’t help but laugh away at his faces and double meaning. Then he stops, winks at the crowd and goes, “Maybe he just needs a ride. So, ride it, ponies.”

It’s clear the announcement everyone was waiting for, as the crowd loses right there. The lights are once again focused on the stage, dripping low as the music picks up in a sexy beat as two big, broad and athletic men make their ways to the center stage, Oikawa nowhere to be seen anymore.

You cannot believe your eyes. You blink them once but then become completely unable to tear your vision from the image unfolding in front of you even for a second. The men comes to the front of the stage, holds onto the pole dance and undulates in a sinful, unholy trusting motion that has your mouth watering and he falls backwards with his hand supporting himself as his legs part on the metal pole and he keeps trusting in time with the bass, a honest-to-god mimic of sex that has you swalowing dry and drooling, your body heating up at the simple images that ellicit in your brain.

He does a twirl in the air, falls in a plank and holds a hand up to hold his cowboy hat all while supporting his body in only one hand. He undulates in thrust motions, twerk his ass in the air before pressing down and takes his hat off his head as a display of strength you never in your mind thought would get you this bothered.

His jet black hair is short and spiky, mussed by sweat and you immediately licks your lips at the salacious thought of licking it up from his skin. He falls with his back on the floor, start once again to proove just how fucking incredible it would be to ride him and then gets up in one single jump that knocks the air of your lungs.

You take in all of him as the light catches on his perfect body, wearing nothing more than an open black leather vest with beaten dark jeans and a big, daunting belt buckle and the cowboy hat in his hand.

And you feel as you have a out of body experience as his face registers in your mind, that mischievous smirk gracing his lips making your whole brain crash into a halt because you recognize that man as no one other than Iwaizumi Hajime, your long-time crush and Teacher Assistant with whom you were just earlier today.

Your eyes are unable to look anywhere but him, completely enthralled by the simplest realization that that single amazing piece of man is actually your long time crush, kind-of-friend and colleague. It feels unreal, impossible, to wrap your head around that piece of information and you’re rendered speechless, mind-blown and enchanted, eyes locked on his glistening muscles, the spanse of his skin on show growing by the minute as he does movements straight out of a wet dream.

Yours, to be even more specific.

It’s clear he doesn’t see you with the dimly lit room and the crew of women chanting. You’re sitting dumbfounded, mouth agape and blood reeling enough that your forehead seems like it will explode, but also feeling as if you’re suspended in a haze - as if Iwaizumi’s body undulating on the air as he holds himself on a pole is something of a spell and you’re definitely sucked in by it.

You can pinpoint the exact moment he sees you, as his show’s ending and the lights around the stage start shining once again. It’s painfully clear how Iwaizumi tenses from the realization, his eyes falling wide and curses tipping from his beautiful lips, the top of his cheekbones lighting up as he all but runs from the front of the crowd and in a moment you’re mirroring his embarrassment, face heating at the bizarre situation you’re finding yourself into.

Your TA is a stripper. And a very good, famous one at that.

What exactly are you supposed to do with this information?

It’s almost an hour and about three shows later where you’re filling your head pounding by the beat, unable to relax even as delicious men pass through your table and play with your friends.

You feel tense, paranoid at what exactly has happened and where Iwaizumi may be, stomach turning and unresponsive as you try to sooth it with booze until you give up, rising on unsteady legs. Muscles strained from how long you’ve been sitting still, afraid to look anywhere and be slapped across the room with some other shocking news.

You take a deep breath as you balance yourself once again on your heels and walk to the bathroom for some needed cool-down, latching on the opportunity when another show is already rolling, a hot but unapproachable-looking man with blond hair and streaks on it owning the stage as if it’s his territory.

As you’re turning on the corridor, however, you’re circled by big arms and yanked from the ground, a yelp turning into silence as you take one look around and find dark green eyes boring into yours, a harsh look on Iwaizumi’s face that make you embarrassed at what it does to your guts.

He scurries off with you inside a place that looks like a private room, fairly dark with red lights around and a ominous pole-dance stage in the middle that makes your mind overheat at the images it summons: the man in front of you clad in nothing but a black jeans rolling his hips up into the air as if daring you to take a ride.

Well, shit.

Iwaizumi’s arms leave your sides and you stumble a bit, eyes diverting down as your face burns. You realize he takes that the wrong way when he sounds gruff and pissed.

“What? Can’t even look at me now?”

You look up in time to catch his arms crossing around his front. You wish he didn’t do that, as now you have one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen all angry-looking with bulging arms oiled and shining, clad in nothing but removable pants, leather chaps, vest and a black cowboy hat.

You groan something unintelligible as you lose the ability to speak and Iwaizumi’s expression turns sour, lips pressed so hard it almost seems like he’s pouting, his hard eyes looking anxious and downcast.

That’s what helps your brain kickstart, completely unable to see Iwaizumi looking remotely sad and acutely aware of how this must be taxing on him.

“Sorry, I-- It’s not you,” You wince as his eyes center on you, unimpressed, “I mean it! It’s just-- I was caught off guard.”

Iwaizumi makes a humming noise and centers his eyes on you as if he’s waiting for you to keep going but your brain is completely blank, staring at him with wide eyes and burning surprise. You have to make a serious effort to avoid letting your eyes wander his frame.

“So,” you start, unable to handle the silence and Iwaizumi groans, pulling his cowboy hat off to thread fingers over his hair in a nervous display that you’re sure he did not mean to be sexy but ends up being anyway. “I’m not sure what to say here.”

“Shit. What are you even doing here?”

“Bachelorette party,” you answer without missing a beat and he all but groans again, as if just remembering is an actual thing that exists- and probably gives him lots of money if tonight was anything to go by.

The clear display of his anxiety actually helps you get a bit more at ease, and you can’t help but crackle an awkward smile. “So... you work here.”

“Yes,” Hajime brutal honesty shows he’s regaining his composure. “It’s good money if you work well and the hours are flexible.”

Not the only thing that’s flexible. You bite your lips at the thought to stop the words from actually spilling from your lips.

“I take it you're not public about this?”

“As little as I can considering the pictures and social media. The club is kinda famous, too.”

“I noticed.”

The silence stretches for a moment as Iwaizumi looks around nervously, his stance unmoving. You take a deep breath and sigh, lips falling in an odd, astonished smile. “Wow, Iwa, that’s…”

“What?” He bites back, defensive. You just end up chuckling, long breath falling from your lips as you look at him and can’t help but be once again dumbfolded at how fucking perfect this man is.

“Nothing, it’s just-- I would never expect it. It’s amazing, though. You’re amazing.” You wince at your own words and how telling they are, but carry on despite the burning on your face. “You seemed like a completely different person out there.”

Definitely not the quiet TA you’re used to. Definitely still completely gorgeous.

Your body tenses as your heart does somersaults in your chest, hunger flaring enough that your throat constricts and your face burns once again.

“Don’t you think it's bad?” It comes out a bit strained, his eyes trained on you, tense and vulnerable. And you just about fall deeper for him right there.

“Why? It’s your work.” You try your best smile, and after a little consideration Hajime’s shoulders finally seem to relax, lips jutting up just a bit as he breathes deep.

“No one in the university can know though,” Iwaizumi says quickly, eyes on yours with a little, tiny smirk. “Obvious reasons.”

That makes you giggle.

“Of course. I’ll keep your secret.” You agree in earnest, honest and clear, and this time when you smile at him, your whole body warms at how his eyes fall down to look at it.

“Good.” His voice goes down a tone, husky and gruff- and making unspeakable things to your already poor state. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Your heart seems to shoot up to your throat, and you try to squeeze words out around it.

“I… uh… yes, I mean, sure. It was… quite incredible.”

“Really.” Hajime smirks and you try to swallow your heart before you choke.

His green eyes stare deeply at your face, drinking the burning on your cheeks, the quick beat of your pulse on your throat, the pursed, wet lips and the way you tremble when he all but takes a step closer. You brace yourself, eyes lifting from the ground to center on him and the sticky, hot sensation spreads through your lower limbs at the burning heat you find there.

“Well, there’s another one to be done.” That tone comes again and you’re forced to press your legs just a tiny bit closer, suddenly aware of the fact you’re both alone in a dark room. He takes another step closer and your eyes fall on his lips, smirk starting to split his face in two, “Stick around.”

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out and Hajime’s eyes turn darker.

"Iwa-channn~''

It's so close it sounds loud from across the half-opened door and Iwaizumi seems to fall back on himself, annoyance furrowing his brows. He takes another deep, heated look on you but tears his eyes away before you can’t say anything.

“Sorry, have to go.”

Your breath leaves you in one go. It feels like you just stepped off a rollercoaster, blown off the ground and slow to catch up.

“Okay, uh, good show?”

“It will be,” Hajime’s eyes are warm on you. Meaningful. “Watch it all, okay?”

And then he leaves, the brightness from the corridor snapping you from your haze as you suck all the oxygen left in the room and then screams silently against your hands.

Iwaizumi feels nervous for the first time since the first time he stepped on stage, about two years ago. It feels like he has something to prove and conquer in this single performance and it doesn’t help that Makki comes running late, smelling of sex and sporting marks that tell just of that, too. But for once Hajime decides he has his own stuff to worry rather than the shit his friends pull.

When they step on stage, his eyes zoom-in on you immediately, something spreading on his skin as he finds your attention centered on him - bulging, enthralled eyes and warm appreciation.

Hajime smirks. They haven’t even started yet.

On cue, Mattsun, Makki, Oikawa and Kyoutani slide on their position and Iwaizumi is delighted that your eyes remain on him.

When the show starts, among screamings and money being waved, he follows the steps nicely, out of habit. Iwaizumi tilts his hat at you and you burn so bright he feels his skin heating at the newfound power.

His vest is the first to go off and he makes sure to have his hands running around his chest more than once, teasing slide until the leather chaps as he thrusts his hips, waving motion that covers his whole body.

He circles, back muscles in the spotlight as his hands come up behind his head, holding the cowboy hat snug in his head, ass tight in the black briefs as he keeps the motions and then turns to fall down on a plank. Iwaizumi grinds down on the floor, blinks and smiles at the ladies but his eyes are only searching for you.

He gets up with an elaborate move and puts both his hands on the pole, holding himself up sideways before circling it, dropping and incorporating some break dance Kyoutani teached him.

Hajime’s hand slid easily with the oil on his skin, slowly planting his thumb under the loops of his leather chaps to the sound of screaming. He feels electricity edge through his skin -- someone’s eyes focused solely on him and the thrill of it it’s nothing he’s ever felt before. Suddenly he understands a bit more about how Oikawa feels with Tendou around.

Iwaizumi thrusts his hips forward once, snaps his belt off in the air with one pull, making the crowd gasp and scream and the itching on his skin turns south. He watches as your eyes follow the hard planes of his abs and the tight squeeze of his thighs on his leather chaps and then snap back into his face. The fact it’s you only makes it all the more exhilarating.

The choreo is once again on the floor, and he drops to it in a wave motion, hips humping on nothing without faltering, tight ass in the air winning cheers and waves; even so, it’s your silent appraisal that rings the louder.

He gets up again, circles the pole in a charming, teasing manner as he holds the metal bar and grinds on it. Iwaizumi lets his hat on the ground and turns his back to the public in time to snap his pants off in one go, at the same time as the other men on stage, staying in nothing but a ridiculously tight, dark, leather brief.

When he was first presented to the thing, he hated it and opted to go comando into some shows, which earned him some nice money and was always quite the surprise to the patrons. Now, as his eyes lock on yours and your wicked tongue peaks out to lick your plush lips in nothing but appreciation, Iwaizumi is rendered quite fond of the offending thing -- who’d thought this day would come.

Your eyes are glued to him and it almost hurts Iwaizumi that he can’t go straight to you, bring you on stage with him and glide your hands all over his body. He’s unsure of how to proceed but there’s no chance in hell he’s throwing this shot away.

He’s been crushing on you for far too long to do that.

In fact, the dumbfounded look on your eyes is quite endearing, much like all the fumbling and tripping over yourself that he got used to expect every time he sees you. Iwaizumi just assumed you were a bit clumsy and quiet, but then he got to know you and it all blew in his face.

You were a bit of a dumbass but also beautiful, kind, dedicated and attentive. The crush that started as a endearing feeling quickly escalated into opressing and Iwaizumi was all but rendered stupid around you at all times, firm believer that you never truly looked at him like that.

However, as you stare at him unblinking and eager, the picture of hunger in the most delicate predator, Iwaizumi realises he may be wrong and that thought alone is enough to ignite his veins.

Oikawa fishes a lady, pushes her on Kyoutani then does the same with another for Iwaizumi.

He smiles at her, professional, and brings her hands to his chest, his hips drawing circles against her. As her tentative strokes and fondling turn into frantic holds and clawing nails, his eyes can’t help but slide sideways, taking in the way you’re hanging out of every move of her hands.

Fuck, Iwaizumi can’t get hard. But there’s a clear throbbing threading south at your concentration. He can’t help but wonder if you’re imagining your hands on his body instead of hers; your hips against his as he grinds on hers; your mouth on his biceps when she kisses his trademarked asset, the ones that gave him his stripper name.

The woman slides several singles around his briefs, not without copping a few and your mouth falls open in an indignated breath. Iwaizumi tries hard to avoid it going to his dick.

He fishes for another woman in the audience as he lets the groups slide more singles not only on his briefs but inside his boots. Iwaizumi pulls one while she’s sitting in the chair, deposits it on the stage and grinds on her enough that the woman is overheated, hands faltering by her sides. Hajime’s eyes search yours once again, drinking, basking in the envy he pinpoints.

Does that mean you wish to be under him, like that? To feel his body against yours, his hips between your legs, his lower body shoved on your face?

Hajime ends his routine with this one halfway, unable to let them feel what you are doing to him and then - finally - he’s free to walk over to your table. Semi-naked, with his boots, hat and slow-rising hard-on.

He’s done this enough times to be able to keep up with the choreo while he’s navigating the tables, hips thrusting and circling, strangers hands sliding on his oiled body to deposit dollars anywhere they can. They’re mostly handsy, few grab his dick and scream, others palm at his thighs and chest. There’s both numbers and dollars being thrown on him but Iwaizumi is used to it - and that’s definitely not his focus tonight.

Iwaizumi stops for a moment at the table before yours. Joining in the fun as Oikawa is happily grinding on his roommate. It gives Hajime a chance to look your way, enough to find you completely enthralled by his body, wide eyes unwavering, mouth open in a breath as your hand fists the flute you’re holding, the perfect depiction of surprise and enchantment and fuck, Iwaizumi is thrilled.

When Hajime finally stops in front of you, you’re looking at him as if under a spell; mouth hanging softly as stars shine in your eyes and he can’t be faulted for fisting your hair, pulling you up to meet his chest, even if he’s careful with where he touches you.

Iwaizumi pretends his lips gliding against the shell of your ear is not a planned thing.

“You’re looking too hard. Are you enjoying the show that much?”

Your lips move without words falling from it and having you speechless all but set him on fire. Iwaizumi thanks every god (and begrudgingly Oikawa) for his expertise in what he’s about to do. His hand slides on your hips, feeling the way you sway with tremors and stop on your back to support you as he bends you backwards. His mouth skims the skin of your neck and dips lower, so his nose can cross over your cleavage, softly caressing the spanse of your collarbones.

“If you keep looking at me like that I’ll start thinking things, princess. Interesting things, physical things.” Iwaizumi lets his teeth close on the fabric covering your neckline as his eyes look up on yours to find every hint there can possibly be of your warm desire. “Seems like we’re reaching an agreement, too. Do like what you see, hm? Do you want me to do to you the same things I did with them?”

“No,” you tell him in a steady tone and Hajime’s eyes shoot up to yours, confused, until you sigh a breath against his face. “I want you to do more.”

He groans, pulling you tighter against his chest for you to feel the effect you have on him, choosing the momentum to circle his hips in what can be disguised as performance despite it being anything but.

“You can’t just tell a guy that. I may believe it.” His hands drop on your ass, gripping as he guides your hips to work with his and you all but melt, blown out eyes falling on his mouth.

“I’m hoping so. I’m pretty much using all my courage to tell you this.” Your breathless chuckle all but obliterates Hajime’s thinking and he has to put some distance between your faces before he takes your lips in a kiss.

There’s a ringing around his ears and he identifies it as the performance’s end approaching. He has to go back on stage to strip naked and his cock is going to give a show of his own tonight.

“Go wait for me in the corridor, quick.” It's a plea and a promise as he forces himself to let go of you and turn on his heels to get back on stage.

Oikawa gives him a hand up back onto the stage, eyes all knowing as they survey the whole big thing going on inside his briefs.

“Nasty, Iwachan~” His smile is a annoying little thing, but then he slaps Iwaizumi’s ass in encouragement, “Sneak off stage before the end, go, quick, I’ll cover.”

Iwaizumi grunts a thanks and as the boys line up one behind the other, he’s able to lock eyes with you and signal with his head before he dips through the backstage drapes.

You’re not sure what’s the plan when Hajime disappears through the back and your spine immediately shoots up, leaving your friends with a half-assed excuse as your legs carry you towards the corridor that leads to the backstage once you choose neither left or right, but only forward. Your eyes are focused, body overheating as your heart gallops in your chest, clinging to the words Iwaizumi whispered in your ears during his show as it repays again and again over your mind’s eye.

The door to the backstage is signaled with nothing, the only hint of its location being the in and out of men from it as their shows end and they leave the place to either mingle along the audience or enter a private room for privé little shows. Honestly, if it was for Hajime, you’d blow a hole in your wallet for every single second of his time.

However, as you’re closing in on the hidden door you start growing strikingly aware of the fact you have no idea how to actually meet him there and having to knock on it makes you feel both silly and self conscious.

Luckly, you don’t have to do anything.

Iwaizumi burst the door open in time to fetch you and drag you inside as you let out a little yelp, and suddenly you’re surrounded by the smell of weed, cigars and sweat along with men; Iwaizumi’s hot, sweety skin is sticky against yours and you have the fleeting thought that maybe that would be off putting to you if you didn't have the all consuming need to drop to your knees and lick it all from his fucking skin.

“Iwa,” leaves you lips for no reason, just for the fact it’s his name and you let your neck fall back against his shoulder, turning your head to finally taste his skin. Iwaizumi’s arms tighten around you in such a way you feel the rumble of his growl and he all but tow you deeper inside.

You can barely get a look around the dimly lit, dirty backstage room before you’re past the messy lounge and into a tight corridor that ends a small, locker-room styled bathroom where Hajime quickly dips inside.

You get one look at the metal lockers on the side, the two sinks with mirrors upfront and the four bathroom stalls on the left, two on each side before you focus back on Iwaizumi’s jawline, nibbling on whatever you can find and relishing on every little noise that tumbles from his lips.

Hajime’s arms leave you for one moment, depositing you on unsteady legs so he can turn the lock on the door and by then his hand is burying itself in your hair and closing at your hip, forcefully pulling you to him as his mouth closes around your neck and he proceeds to kiss, bite and suck at every spanse of your skin.

“Fuck, I didn’t want to do this here,” Iwaizumi starts with a gruff voice that makes your center weep, the force of his hands around you enough to render your feet useless as he strides over to the sink, imediatelly hiking you over it with his big hands over your ass and a hard bite at your shoulder as if he’s pinging you as the culprit of his angish. “But I can’t fucking wait anymore.”

He sounds so pained, so raw, that you can’t help but groan, mouth searching his quickly as your hands reach for his hair and shoulder, nails digging on whatever you find to secure your hold on his slippery skin. He tastes of whisky and weed, but it’s the fact that it’s Hajime that renders you intoxicated.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he admits as his teeth nibble on your bottom lip, a trail of kisses making their way down so he can bite at your neck, licking it over just so he can suck on it, your eyes rolling back inside your head as your body all but trembles. “I was sure you weren’t interested, fuck.”

That is probably the one thing that could pull you from the haze settling in your brain caused by the fucking thrill that having Hajime kissing and holding you is enough to cause.

“Are you insane?” You whine back at him, tilting your head away from his mouth as your fingers pull at his hair to look him in the eyes. Those beautiful, heated and earnest florest-green eyes that have been your demise since day one. “Iwa, there hasn't been a day I wasn’t interested.”

There’s an edge of surprise on his face, along with a hint of something soft you can’t name and you all but moan at him, unable to form words of just how much you’ve wanted him and for how long. So you choose to show him, instead, legs circling his frame as you press your chest against his and hold his neck with both hands to pull him in a kiss that leaves you lightheaded, toes curling on your heels and heat burning through your veins, melting your insides until it spills on your underwear.

A rumble in his chest tells you about the groan he keeps inside and Iwaizumi’s hands take hold of the flesh of your ass and thighs with bruising strength, violent heartbeats making both of your bodies tremble with need. But then he angles himself back, breaks the kiss and curses after one look at your face.

Next thing you know Iwaizumi’s down on his knees between your thighs, holding you open with big hands under your knees and your brain just ups and fries. Your panties are sticking to your drenched folds and there’s no way the flimsy triangle is able to do much to hide you from Hajime’s attentive eyes. He groans, fingers dipping under the sides of your underwear and he pulls it to the side, baring you the best he can.

He doesn’t really say anything past throwing you a burning look, kissing up the inner part of your thighs, and then he’s mouth is on you - tongue lavishing at both sex and fabric, circling your clit with wondrous expertise and licking along your inner lips like they’re about to spill all your secrets.

“Fuck,” slips from you as your head arches back, hitting the wall. “Iwaizumi...”

Whispered from you that way, his name is the only thing that conveys all of the feelings bubbling on your chest: the glee of the mutual crush, the excitement of being this close, the massive bliss igniting your nerves at his ministrations. If the way Hajime doubles down on his efforts between your legs is any indication - tongue slipping up and down then back up to circle your clit mercilessly - you’d say he agrees.

You feel suspended in time, tense as a tight coil that’ll tear with a single harsh pull. His tongue dances around your cunt as much as he did on stage: perfectly. Deliriously bringing you to a high you’ve aren’t sure you’ve ever tasted. And then he brings his fingers to calmly, slowly massage around your entrance.

“Oh fucking christ!” Your burning moan bounces around the empty space loudly and you swear you feel him snickering against your cunt, only you’re way far gone to care. “Haji-fuck!”

Your hand slides over his hair, fingers delighted at how soft they feel and you use your palm to press his face further against your folds. Your hips humping anything they can because staying still feels like an impossible task with the way your blood is boiling inside your veins.

But then someone is pounding at the door loudly and your eyes snap open as your high slips from you, Iwaizumi’s lips abandoning your sex to throw a nasty glare at the door.

“C’mon Iwa-chan~” someone calls outside, sounding unbelievably pleased at the interruption. “You know the rules! We need to use the bathroom~”

“Two minutes!” Iwa snarl back and as the pounding on the door doesn’t come back, you think he got himself a deal. “Fucking assholes. Can’t give me one fucking moment when they’re the ones always doing this shit.”

He sounds so pissed it’s actually awfully endearing. Red in the face with swollen lips glistening in a pout, and despite the throbbing on your cunt, you can’t help but laugh. His eyes come back to you and a renewed wave of pleasure curls on your pussy by the clear shift into softness you find there, so you pull him back up standing and make a point of kissing him so hard you’re licking your juices from his chin.

Two minutes apparently go by awfully fast, as the door is nudged once again. Softly, this time.

“Fuckers,” Iwa mutters after he breaks the kiss, eyes as daggers aimed at whoever is outside the door. “Give me ten minutes and meet me outside?” You realize by the tone of his voice that Iwaizumi is nervous and your heart does a sickening loop inside your chest as if you needed a heads up of how much you’re gone for him. Your face must do something weird, as his eyes scrunch up and his hands grip on your hips with a tiny bit of strength, pleading. “I just need to change and get my stuff, I’ll be real quick, promise.”

Jesus Christ, didn’t he get it yet?

“Iwaizumi,” His name sounds gruff past your breathless throat and you see the way his eyes turn steely, bracing for heartbreak. “You could tell me to wait forever, and I’d be dying outside waiting for you.”

You make a point of holding his eyes because it feels like it’s important and you’re thankful for that as you can watch the exact moment Iwaizumi lets a long breath out, eyes warming as his lips descend upon yours - one time, then once again; his fingers drawing soft little patterns over your skin.

“I’ll be outside,” you tell him before someone disturbs the moment between you two and he helps you down the sink, your panties choosing this moment to slide to the floor, showing the fact that all that pulling ended up causing a rip. You choke up a gasp and Iwa chuckles, hand sliding to your bare ass to pat at the plush flesh.

“Well, one less thing in the way.”

Getting out of the bathroom and outside the backroom ends up being the most embarrassing thing about it all, as you’re forced to pass through a horde of almost-naked men that throw you all-knowing grins. The pretty man that welcomed you into the Club is the one with the wickedest grin and you can see by Iwaizumi’s grimace alone that he’s in for a hell of teasing.

If the hand gripping your hip is anything to go by, you’d doubt he’s paying it half a mind. He leaves you at the door, tells the ones around there to shut it as they watch, and breathlessly promises you he’ll come in a bit before closing the door.

Even so you can still hear the immediate hollering going on inside and you chuckle for a moment, until you try to take a step and your legs betray you, shaken. There’s a smile etched to your face that you can barely contain until you’re painfully remembered of the fact you’re dripping between your thighs. That’s all you need for your heart to beat on your face, burning so bright you’re surprised you haven’t melted to the floor.

You’re breathless and antsy as you wait for Iwaizumi to come back, the club visibly emptier after the final performance. Your friends have left already, only waiting around until you came to pick up your purse, all of them tired and drunk and leaving in group after calling enough ubers and making sure you were fine.

And not without teasing, of course.

God, you were more than fine. But you’re throbbing, uncomfortable wet and empty, increasingly aware of the fact you’re standing there pantiless as the horny fog dissipates a bit in the absence of one Iwaizumi Hajime to end your logic thinking.

You get antsy of waiting around in the bar despite the bartender trying to make nice small-talk and instead trudges over to the corridor, standing there awkwardly fidgeting as if he’s taking hours and not literally a few minutes.

The door opens with an urge and Hajime’s eyes zoom in on you, long strides that only serve to make your body once again acutely aware of it’s poor state, arousal spiking to the point where you press your legs together to help with the feeling.

But then he’s reaching for you before he’s even really close, and you’re quickly running to him and latching your lips together with urgency. Now that you can kiss him it feels like there’s no point in any other greeting that doesn’t involve his mouth on yours.

His hair is dripping wet with a recent, clearly quick shower and he’s wearing the same clothes you’re used to see him with day by day and, somehow, that just makes it all worse, a literal groan passing your lips as you reach once again for his lips but this time Iwaizumi stops you with a groan, turning you in his arms so both of you can eagerly trudge out of the Club.

Hajime tries to be mindful of you as he shortens his long strides to be able to accompany yours. You’re balancing yourself to run on heels, laugh bubbling out of your chest at the exhilarating feeling of glee of a mutual crush. Iwaizumi throws you one amused look, sharp smile turning teasing as his hands come to circle your waist, hoist you up and hurry the remaining distance to his car.

“Too slow!” Iwaizumi teases with a grunt and chuckles against your neck, big toothy smile against your skin. “Hurry up!”

“Someone’s eager,” you tease but he’s already rounding his car, pressing you on the side to attach his lips to your neck, soft bites and circling hips that show you just how much that sentence is true.

One of his hands surrounds your neck and his thumb tilts your head up enough for his lips to capture yours, a soft kiss contrasting with the need in his grasp on your hips.

“I think we’ve waited too long.”

“Yeah? Who’s fault is that, dumbass?” You nibble on his lips and grind your hips on the impressive burning length that presses on your belly. Iwaizumi chuckles, biting on your neck as his hand slides past your hip to close on your ass.

“Yours.”

Your outraged gasp is lost on his lips, passionate kiss blowing your rational thinking with a nuke. Would you ever recover from Iwaizumi Hajime? God, you don’t think so.

You pull him closer, pressing your chest against him, pressure building once again as your nipples stand to attention. Your leg rakes up on his side as if you’re not on the middle of the street and Iwaizumi lets his hand slide to the underside of your thigh; fingers dipping lower, digits gliding over your drenched slit once before he dips them carefully past the tight ring of your entrance. It’s barely anything, but your mind short-circuits, head falling back against the car.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Iwaizumi sounds anguished, teeth punishing his lips as his eyes bore on yours. His fingers slide deeper inside you and your mouth opens in a silent moan. “I can’t wait to be inside this pussy.”

That ends you, pussy clenching so hard around his barely there fingers it’s painful to feel the remaining emptiness. You puff a hot breath of air on his face, eyes dazed and blood boiling as you tense and throb.

“Iwa,” Your nails press on his skin so hard your own hand hurts, “if you keep doing this we’ll be doing it in the street.”

Something burns in him, as he presses his fingers deeper inside you to watch your eyes fall close and then pulls them all out, quickly opening the door.

“Get in.”

You obey, having half a mind to wonder if it’s really happening until he’s closing the door and circling the vehicle. “Iwa!” You plead, as somehow it feels like abandonment, your whole being hurting and boiling, a whine in your lips as Hajime slides in the driver's seat and turns the car on, driving it out the curb and down the street as a madman.

“We’re doing this right,” Hajime tells you as he drives, drinking your panting form from the corner of his eyes. His jeans are tight, hint of what awaits you forming a very clear pattern and you feel overheated, frenzied, throbbing with need. So as it turns out, you’re far past the point to care.

You adjust yourself in the seat, legs spreading to allow your hand to reach the appex of your sex as the other closes on a clothed breast. “Iwa,” you sigh in bliss as the pressure finally seems to give in just that one tiny bit. His eyes shoot to you and fall comically large at the view, turning hazed in sequence as his cheeks color red.

“God, baby, don’t do this to me,” Iwaizumi grunts, hand adjusting his cock through the jeans as his eyes try to flit between you and the fairly empty streets.

“I’m not doing anything to you though, I’m doing it to me.” You moan and the car loses balance for a second, sliding to the side and back as you laugh.

“You’re a fucking menace.”

“Try not to kill us, Iwa.” Is all you answer, moan slipping out at the way you let your fingers alleviate the pressure at your clenching center. Iwaizumi looks as if he’s in pain. One of his hands shoots down to hold on your left thigh, bruising strength delicious.

“You wanna play dirty, huh? That’s what you want?” The tinge of aggression in his voice makes your pussy throb around your fingers and for a moment it feels like he knows. “I can play dirty, baby. I can either make you cum like a good girl or let you hang the whole night like a brat, so what do you want?”

Your voice is nowhere to be found and your eyes are locked on Hajime as if he’s the one who hung the moon and stars. He even has the gal to smirk.

“I can be so good, baby, but I’m even better at being bad.”

You skyrocket shamelessly into a little bout of pleasure, a short-lived thing resembling a climax that’s caused by the whiplash of Hajime’s dominance and the pressure bursting inside you as you abuse your own fingers' expertise.

You tremble on his side, head thrown back with a moan of his name and Hajime curses loudly, hand at your thigh awkwardly reaching your slit to slide over it and push two fingers inside, catching the last of your short-lived climax. His face turns solemn, eyes darkening with hunger as a vein rises in his jaw and a renewed wave of wetness stains his digits.

Those forest-green eyes settle on you as he speeds down the empty street. “I’m going to end you,” Iwaizumi presses deeper and you arch your body, legs falling wider for him as fingers you effortlessly, driving and stretching you on thick digits that make you gasp on your own breath.

“This is how it’s going to be.” Hajime starts, voice rough and hot. “Once we’re out of this car and private enough, I’m burying myself inside this pretty pussy in one go.” Your whole breath leaves you in one quick breath, eyes falling open as Hajime’s thumb rounds your clit and a third finger starts pushing inside your walls, burning stretch making you delirious as his words take you apart, one by one.

“Then, I’m fucking you the whole night until you cant even think about a time where I wasn't inside you,” his fingers curve inside your walls, calling motion and upwards thrust that makes your pleasure sparks through your whole body, one hand closing around his wrist as the other locks on a breast. “Until you feel empty without me inside.”

He pulls his hand back as you all but sob, eyes literally welling with tears at the loss of your quickly rising bliss but one look at Hajime has you sobering up, his focused eyes on the street as he hurries down the rest of the way.

As it ends up, Iwaizumi stays true to his words.

He presses you up against the door of his apartment while you two are still on the corridor, brings his hands to your thighs and hikes you up against the door, your dress sliding way past your ass as your bare, throbbing pussy glides over his clothed length. Your whole skin feels like a live-wire, hypersensitive and vibrating.

Hajime’s mouth is closed in a bite on your shoulder as he uses his abilities to open his door without interfering with the sinful way you roll your center against his big cock, needy and lost, pleading for him to just fuck you.

When it clicks open, both his hands fly to your ass as he pushes past the door and close it with a bang as he presses you against it. His mouth is back on yours, tongue invading your lips with a groan and hand flying to tear his jeans open and down just enough for his big, hard cock spring free.

"Yes!" You break the kiss to cry at the first touch of his weeping, hot cock against your cunt, the sheer amount of wetness making it slide from your hole to your clit and then down again.

Hajime sucks a breath to still himself, slowly angles his hips back and let the thick head slide to your entrance with perfect precision, slamming himself half the way inside with one powerful thrust that have his head falling on your shoulder with a blissful groan, your cries of agreement thrown around the air above as you angle your head back.

Your walls fall open for him brutally, soaking wet and ready but still struggling against the stretch. It burns, his fat cock pulsing inside you and as you clench around his girth you realize he's not even all the way inside.

"Oh my god," you breathe out and Iwa sighs, fist slamming on the side of the door as he braces himself and rolls his hips, pushing steadily, sheathing his cock inside you slowly. You choke on a breath, suddenly silent, legs kicking out without your brain to rein on it.

"Jesus," Iwa grunts as he bottoms out, his legs trembling from the effort of holding himself back, mind stumbling as every single cell in his body seems overwhelmed by the feeling of reaching paradise. “You feel like heaven.”

Hajime tells you mostly because he wants to feel you clench around him and you do, his heart soaring with the delicious high of knowing exactly what makes you tick; but the throbbing of his cock reminds him just how long he’s been forgotten and Iwaizumi adjusts his stance, locks his arms around you and simply mutters, “Now, to fucking you the whole night.”

You skyrocket quicker than ever, few presses and pulls igniting a supernova bliss in your veins, tongue useless as it feels alien in your mouth, brain short-circuiting at his thrusts. You’ve never felt like this and you’re pretty sure you’ll never would, not without Hajime.

You’re so lost you don’t even realize he moves you from the door to the wall, Hajime’s hands grabbing a handful of your hair to pull you to a blistering kiss, the trimmed hair at the base of his cock doing wonders against your clit every time he bottoms out, nestled inside a place you never even felt before.

You’re so oversensitive, wound up and tense as your pussy holds him as a vice, grunts falling from his lips that make you skin all but burn at the delicious praise.

As you squeeze “Hajime” past your mouth in a painful breath, frenzied eyes searching for his, he soothes you with kisses all over your face.

“Go ahead, baby.” He tells you with his lips against your skin, “I got you.”

You explode.

There’s no other way to explain the way your pleasure blows you over, sharpshooter through your veins and short-circuits your brain. It feels like being caught in an ocean wave, unable to swim as it carries you underwater and the tides hold you down, unending twirls that assault you through every side until you’re finally reaching shore, rising above to suck a deep breath.

Hajime is peppering your face with kisses as you settle back inside your skin, blinking hazy eyes to his perfect face with a ridiculous smile that must show just how fucking much you’re smitten. But there’s an edge of something painful on his face.

“Wow.” You breathe and his cock responds inside you with a nod of agreement.

Hajime chuckles, plants a big kiss on your wet lips and tries to smile despite the strain on his face as he calls your name. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” you smile dumbly at him, loose and fuzzy around the edges. “Go ahead. Not sure I’ll be of much use, I think I just had a outer body experience.”

“Hmmm,” Hajime smirks, tight around the edges with his throbbing cock buried in your pulsing heat. as he seems pensive “No can’t do, baby.” He rolls his hips for a moment, lecherous noise echoing around the silent flat, then decides to bring you across the short distance to his couch, letting his ass fall on it graceless, cock pressing deeper with the movement. He drinks the little gasp straight from your lips.

“I think I’ve earned my turn to sit back and relax.” Hajime smiles, predatory, hungry and you decide you just may love him like this. “So why don’t you do us both a favor and ride it?”

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime smut #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu smut #thesmutpilecollab #cw exhibitionism

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miracleonice87 · 3 years

Note

anything with matty tkachuk! but maybe a fluffy one where it’s your first season living together after being long distance for awhile and it’s like the moments you guys go through? first fight, first night together, new game day rituals, etc.

a/n: the last of the requests for the moment! I’ll probably open them back up soon. here’s a piece with a few vignettes referred to in the request. enjoy!

warnings: partners arguing, brief mention of sex

_____

Firsts

first night…

“You’re going to throw your back out.”

Matthew scoffed. “You think you’re so heavy but you weigh next to nothing,” he insisted, scooping his arm beneath the crooks of your knees, the other steady beneath your underarms as he lifted you off the ground.

You chuckled, covering your face with your hand shyly.

“Matthew,” you whined. He shook his head.

“Nope, we’re doing it,” he told you, walking toward the front door. “You’re finally moving in with me. We’re doing the cheesy ‘carry you over the threshold’ thing.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Smiling, you looped your arms around his neck and resigned to his resolve. A few yards more, and Matthew was kicking open the door with one foot.

As he stepped into the house, he let out an adorable “ta daaa!” and beamed at you.

“Welcome home, princess,” he said sweetly. You leaned in to kiss him and pinched gently at his cheek.

“Thank you, my love,” you said. Matthew put you down carefully and closed the door behind him. As you stepped forward into the living room — your living room — you spotted not only a gorgeous bouquet of blush pink roses, but also an overflowing gift basket filled with an array of your favorite items. The jasmine candles you always burned in your own apartment, the lavender tea you drank each night before bed, your favorite shampoo and conditioner, the shower gel you always stocked up on at your favorite St. Louis boutique — all of it, and more, was tucked inside.

“Baby…” you began breathlessly, running your hand along the perimeter of the wicker. “What did you do?”

Matthew approached from behind with a smile, wrapping his arms around your middle and burying a kiss in your hair.

“I just wanted you to have some things that’ll hopefully make you feel at home here,” he said somberly. “And I gotta admit, Taryn helped me track down the stuff from St. Louis,” he added with a chuckle.

You turned in his hold to face him, and he noted the glistening in your green eyes as he reached for your face.

“You are so sweet. Thank you, baby,” you said, pressing your lips against his. When you parted, Matthew noticed the way your bright smile had faded. He knew why.

As thrilled as you were to be moving in with Matthew at last after a full year of dating long distance, you were still anxious leaving your hometown of St. Louis. You couldn’t wait to start your life in Calgary with Matthew, but living so far from your family and childhood friends had you battling homesickness from the second you took off from Lambert. The reality had caused you to break down on the plane and was bringing tears to your eyes once more.

“You okay?” Matthew asked kindly, kissing your forehead repeatedly. You held his wrists and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you said.

“I know it’s not gonna be easy, sweetheart,” Matthew said, pulling you closer. “But your parents are welcome here anytime, and you can go visit them literally whenever you want. And you know my parents are gonna be up here way more now that you’re here. We all know they like you better than me,” he told you, pulling a giggle from you as you looked up at him with a smirk.

“There’s a smile,” he said. You nodded, sniffling.

“Trust me, Matthew, I’m so happy to be here with you,” you assured him. “This is where I’ve wanted to be for so long, and you’re so gracious for having me here. And I can’t believe how thoughtful these gifts were. The excitement I feel to start my life with you outweighs any sadness I’ll feel. Trust me on that.”

Matthew grinned, and you couldn’t help but reflect his joy in your own expression.

“I love you, princess,” he said, hugging you tight. “Welcome home.”

“I love you, too, Matthew,” you said against his shoulder.

_____

first fight…

It had taken a few weeks, but you soon settled into your new life in Calgary with little trouble. Spending every day with Matthew felt like a dream — you were both giddy when you hopped into bed together each night and woke up next to each other the following morning.

As Matthew began training camp, you found your own routine with your work as a freelance graphic designer. You only put in about twenty to thirty hours per week, which Matthew knew you did because you wanted to, not because you felt you needed to. He reminded you every so often that you could quit at any point if you no longer felt the need to work — though you told him not to hold his breath.

Matthew refused to let go of his housekeeper, as he wanted to save you from doing all of the chores, though you did insist on taking over the bulk of the household duties because you actually found them enjoyable — scheduling, grocery shopping, meal planning, cooking, laundry, and paying bills.

It was that last little item that caused the first tiff between you and Matthew since you had moved in with him — in fact, the first tiff the two of you had had in months.

One afternoon, after Matthew returned home from practice, he kissed your cheek and grabbed a glass of water before sitting down at the kitchen table to chat with you, as he did almost every day. As you worked on a logo design for a client, Matthew sat scrolling through his phone; then, eyebrows furrowing, he paused.

“Hey, babe?” he began. You acknowledged him with a distracted “hmm?” without looking away from your screen.

“It’s no big deal if so,” Matthew spoke, “but did you forget to pay the water bill this month? And maybe… maybe the electric bill, too? I don’t see that they’ve been deducted from my account yet, so I just wanna make sure they’re not late.”

Heat crept up your neck and chest as you slowly closed your laptop, pursing your lips to the side. When you didn’t respond right away, Matthew looked at you curiously.

You took a deep breath and pulled your legs underneath you, curling up and wishing you could hide from this altogether.

“Don’t be mad…” you said softly.

Not a good start, Matthew thought to himself. He clicked his phone to lock it and set it aside, folding his arms on the table.

“Babe…” he said, a warning in the single word.

You picked nervously at the seam of your leggings. “Okay. I kind of…” you cleared your throat, stalling. “I kind of paid those two out of my own account. But just those two. I swear.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, pushing himself out of his seat as he muttered, “oh, my god.”

Yep, he was pissed.

After pacing for a few moments, Matthew crossed his arms against his chest and faced you.

“I thought we talked about this,” he said, clearly frustrated.

You dropped your head. “I-I know…” you said timidly. “We did. I just-“

“And you paid them yourself anyway? Despite having already discussed it?” he questioned, his volume rising.

With lightly shaking hands, you tucked some hair behind one ear and swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze, which was sure to be intense.

“Yes,” was all you could manage.

Matthew tossed his baseball cap on the table and sighed loudly, resuming his pacing across the hardwood.

“Baby, we can’t start out like this,” he said firmly. “I didn’t ask you to come live with me so we could split the cost of living like you’re some random roommate of mine. I asked you to move in because I want to share my life with you — I wanna share everything with you. I make more money than I’ll ever be able to spend, and you should not be spending your own money to pay our bills.”

As he spoke, you chewed anxiously on the inside of your cheek. When he paused, he sighed once more.

“Can you look at me, please?” he requested.

With a shaky inhale, you did as he asked, and his gaze softened the moment he saw the unease on your face.

“What’s goin’ on here, baby?” Matthew asked. “You’ve gotta talk to me. We’re partners.”

You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down to cover your closed fists as you considered how even to answer him. Finally, you decided on a simple response.

“I feel like a mooch,” you said quietly, your eyes traveling downward again.

Out of your frame of vision, Matthew’s face fell. He felt sick at what he had just heard. He crossed the room swiftly, easily pulling out your chair and turning it to face him. He knelt before you and gathered your hands in his own.

“Princess… hey,” he said gently as he reached to smooth his hand over your hair. “Look at me.” This time, it wasn’t a question.

You forced yourself to look at him, finding immediate comfort in the tender way he was now looking at you as compared to before. He squeezed your thighs soothingly as he spoke again.

“You are anything but a mooch,” he said with conviction. “You are my girlfriend, who I love — who I’m obsessed with. You’re the person I want to spend my life with. I wanna take care of you in every way I possibly can, including financially. You know what I mean?”

You nodded slowly, unable to think of a convincing argument against him.

“I don’t want to fight about this with you,” Matthew continued, shaking his head. “We shouldn’t be fighting about money. Listen, if you want to spend your money on things that are only yours, that’s fine. Even though I really wish you wouldn’t even do that.” He muttered the last part and you offered the tiniest smile. “I don’t want you footing our bills, babe. You don’t need to worry about that. Okay? I want you to let me take care of all of that. Please?”

You nodded slowly. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to go behind your back. I just felt like I wanted to contribute.”

Matthew gave you a disbelieving expression. “Contribute? Babe, you contribute so much. You’ve barely been here a month and shit around here is more organized than it’s ever been. You’ve already got this place running like a well-oiled machine,” he told you as you breathed a chuckle. “You take care of me in countless ways. Let me handle the money. That’s the easy part.”

You let your head roll back with a sigh, knowing that Matthew was being the logical one in this instance. “Okay,” you agreed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I will. I’m sorry.”

Matthew shook his head, kissing the tip of your nose and then your lips. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Let’s just go upstairs and have make-up sex since this was our first fight in forever.”

You threw your head back in laughter. “You are something else,” you told your boyfriend, who was already picking you up out of your chair and toting you upstairs.

_____

first game…

As you stood in your closet selecting an outfit for Matthew’s home opener, you felt a familiar pair of arms snake around your waist and a set of lips you knew well come to rest on your cheekbone. A grin overtook your face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you teased as Matthew relentlessly planted kisses on your skin. “How was your nap? I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You turned his direction, and Matthew shook his head. You smoothed the short curls atop his head and he nearly purred, making you laugh.

“My nap was good,” he said with a yawn. “And you’re gonna make me fall asleep again if you keep doing that.”

You snickered, kissing his jaw, before you turned back around and reached for a couple articles of hanging clothing.

“Once you pick what you’re wearing, can you make me a cup of coffee?” Matthew asked from behind.

Your brows pulled together, puzzled, and you cocked your head as you turned back toward him.

“Are you really that helpless?” you said in your best teasing tone.

Matthew rolled his eyes lightheartedly and said, “No, I can make my own, but I don’t want to. We’ve got a good thing going.”

You shook your head, amused. “Okay, I’m lost,” you told him, hanging your outfit on the back of the closet door to steam later. “What are you talking about?”

Matthew followed you out of the closet and toward the hall.

“You made me my coffee before the last three preseason games at home, remember? And we won them all,” he said matter-of-factly. “So yeah, if you don’t mind, we’re gonna keep that going. Unless you wanna be the reason we lose…”

“No!” you exclaimed immediately. Matthew laughed — he knew that would do the trick, as you were nearly as superstitious as he. “I’m going now,” you said. As you turned to descend the stairs, you glanced back at him, batting your lashes. “Cream and sugar?” you asked sweetly.

Matthew laughed hysterically and tickled your sides as he followed you down to the kitchen, thankful once more that you were here to share not only his home with him, but his life.

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watevermelon · 3 years

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Jealous | Eita Semi x Reader

✧ Summary: You thought you were content with your relationship so far - Semi was your best friend and these past few years were some of the most memorable. But all of that quickly changes with some outside forces. ➳ Tags: Angst with a happy ending; some humor

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—xXxXxXxXxXx—

Four years ago, it would have been a strange sight to see you, an up-and-rising wing-spiker, sitting on the sideline of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team. Being the female team’s manager was nice, but just as ambiguous as the adjective. You sorely ached to be back as an active member on the court and you seemed to radiate that very thought throughout the schoolyear.

At the end of your first-year you were switched from official wing-spiker to sub-pinch server. That was a huge demotion in your eyes, but a position you would gladly accept now. You knees were deteriorating from overuse and it was only facilitated at the Spring Tournament during your first-year. A bad-land from a spike and you tore your ACL. From that injury, there was no going back. That took you off the regular team for the rest of the year, since your doctor recommended six-months of healing.

Torn ACL’s do not heal and you did not want to undergo surgery, since it would only prolong your time away from the court. That decision was terrible in itself, but you reasoned that your volleyball career would end after high-school. So the long-term implications did not affect your future in sports since you did not envision one.

But your career ended sooner than you thought.

You did not seek the advice of the athletic trainer or even your coach and attempted to do the same work-outs as the rest of the team. And for a good amount of time, they bought your act. It seemed you were a miraculous healer, despite the urgings of both your parents and physicians. Dates set aside for physical therapy were skipped and you opted to make yourself useful to the team.

But you were doing just the opposite.

The women of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team had their eyes set on nationals and it seemed that you were on the right track. The team earned their spot in the finals of the Interhigh Tournament, garnering attention against Niiyama High. You were set to serve, aiming directly for the serious face of Amanai Kanoka. Mid-stride, something did not feel right and you landed, not on your feet, but on your front-side.

You looked up from your prone form on the ground to see the horrified faces of your teammates and opponents. The usually loud section of Shiratorizawa’s student body was stunned silent and everyone’s eyes were fixated on your figure. First aid was able to hoist your motionless body onto a stretcher and time seemed to momentarily stop. You could still distinctly recall the perturbed faces of your friends and family. In that very instant, you felt your heart crack and silently whispered goodbye to your beloved sport.

Your torn ACL developed into a long-lasting chronic deficiency and you were slowly losing control in knee movement.

Pity.

That was the only word to describe the certain expression other people gave you after the fact. Volleyball held a large amount of prominence on campus and the fact that nearly everyone saw your fall – it was humiliating. You were taken completely off the team and instead ushered into surgery and rehabilitation for your knee.

Many of your teammates attempted to show compassion and understanding for your situation, but they would never truly understand. You had accepted, deep in your heart, that even if you had undergone surgery early your knee would continually depreciate. It was only a matter of time.

The coach could understand your reasoning, but cursed your insolence. It hurt her that you desperately wanted to help the team, to the point of sacrificing your future. If she had known, she would have taken you off the starting-line in an instant. But there was no second chance, no benefit in asking what if’s.

The previous manager of the women’s team was leaving with graduation and you inherited her spot. On more than one occasion, you wondered if staying on as manager would really help you emotionally. It was your own personal hell, watching your previous teammates engage in volleyball and never getting the chance to join.

Graduation liberated many of your friends and majority of the people who observed your deterioration first-hand were gone. New volleyball teams were forming and you missed most of their names. Without the use of it on the court, it was harder to connect and really converse with the fresh first-years. You knew the names of the promising few – Goshiki Tsutomu was a hard one to miss. There were also two exemplary female wing-spikers, but Shiratorizawa’s team ran both deep and wide.

With all this distance, you would often miss much of the drama from those outside your year. Many of the other volleyball players made an effort not to bar you and updated you daily on news. Tendou was the number one instigator and you would often hear a warped version of the gossip from him first.

None of the male players were in the same class, ironically. There was one in each class and you shared yours with Eita Semi for the past three years. You were the closest to the mom of the group and he would usually clarify new gossip to you.

The groupchat shared amongst both the men’s and women’s volleyball team usually went ignored in your pocket. Once in a while, you would contribute a dank meme or comment. But for now, you tended to silently witness the drama unfold. Amongst the newly minted third-years was a groupchat just for you guys, both the girls and boys teams, which was the one you and Tendou seemed to haunt.

As such, you were texting away in the middle of class. You sat with Semi, who was diligently writing notes and following along with the teacher. Neither had yet to see you, but no matter who it was, they would pluck the phone right out of your hands.

GC: We’re the captains now. <(￣︶￣)>

12:43 From:s u f f e r i n g (。□°） I’m just saying, we can fight him.

12:43 From: Ushiwaka-sama I would prefer to leave the setter intact

12:43 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） Are we ignoring the problem of Goshiki????

12:43 From: Captain-Sama! He’s a wing-spiker not a middle-blocker. You don’t have to worry about your spot

12:43 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） ExCuSe youuuuuuuuuuu

12:44 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ) I wouldn’t be afraid even if he was

It was severely clear to all volleyball members that your spot as a regular was never safe (unless of course your name started with a U and ended with -shiwaka.)

The coaches of either team were relentless in their words and would drop a team member if they showed enough weakness. And you would not be surprised even in the slightest if the essential vice-captain of the men’s team was benched for the newfound first-year. The anomaly of Goshiki Tsutomu could be found in the fact that he seemed to be the complete foil of his older teammates. Despite this, he showed the most promise and you almost wanted to bet money that he would be a regular by the Spring High Tournament.

12:44 From: Ushiwaka-sama Your numerable amount of question marks show your lie.

12:44 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） Why don’t you shut the fuck up

12:44 From: Ushiwaka-sama But I didn’t say anything

12:45 From: Captain-Sama! LMAO but seriously Soekawa has nothing to worry about

12:45 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□°） Even if he does I think we can take the coconut-head.

12:45 From: Guess Monster（▼へ▼メ） O mi god good one (f/n) I’m about to set his nickname as that

12:46 From: Okaasan/Eita Why don’t you take your own advice and stfu salami

12:46 From: Captain-Sama S C R E A M I N G

Okaasan/Eita has changed “Guess Monster (▼へ▼メ)” ‘s nickname to, “the most tender Salami”.

12:46 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□° ) I can’t breathe

12:47 From: Ushiwaka-sama Lol

True to your word, you were laughing with almost no control while Semi was trying not to have his smile break his stern façade. You covered your mouth to stifle the giggles and the fact that the literal volleyball idiot wrote “Lol” you had no doubt he was laughing as well a few classrooms over.

Those in your immediate vicinity subtly turned to look at you and you had to pretend to bend-down to pick up a pencil to hide your laughter. You thanked Semi for the umpteenth time for grabbing these seats in the back that were far from the teacher’s reproach.

Once you were settled, Semi commented, “The aim of my remark was to calm you all down.”

It was hard to focus in class usually, but after a morning like that you were done. English was your forte and you had no problems with the subject, even in an advanced class focused on the western world’s literature. The Great Gatsby was your shit.

13:34 From: Captain-Sama I have detention now Eita. I hope youre happy

13:34 From: Okaasan/Eita What did I do????

13:34 From: Captain-Sama I literally started screaming at the name

13:34 the most tender Salami At least someone else is suffering too

13:34 the most tender Salami My ass is getting blasted on the shared gc help

13:35 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□° ) Hey remember that time you locked me in the men’s locker room

13:35 From: s u f f e r i n g (。□° ) Karma beyotch

13:35 From: the most tender Salami LMAo thanks for that reminder ugh that was the funniest day I almost feel better

You frowned at your phone and Semi noticed your reaction, “That’s your fault. You brought it up.”

The two of you were done with class for the rest of the day and were casually lounging around his dorm room. His roommate, Reon Ōhira, was in class 4 and had a different schedule from the two of you.

You were laid-out across his bed, backpack carelessly thrown on the floor against his desk. Semi was previously occupied with whatever he does on his laptop, but now he was catching-up with the groupchat. This was incredibly normal and it was almost second-nature for you to lounge in his room. Your roommate, the captain of the women’s team, often noted this with certain intentions.

It was no secret that you and Semi were something.

You flirted nonchalantly and he had an overall friendly personality — it seemed entirely natural. Your relationship had blurred lines and no clear mutual understanding. The two of you could hold hands and he could get away with the occasional kiss on your cheek. And if anyone asked if you were in a relationship, you would say no. Semi would do the same.

There was one occasion during your second-year that pushed Semi’s buttons to the point where he made your relationship known. You could count the amount of female third-years on your hand and still have fingers to spare. This, in Tendou’s eyes, left barely any possible suitors that he would seriously be interested in. And of all people, the eyes of the guess monster settled on you.

Tendou was a somewhat of a Kuudere, in your words. He was not cold, but incredibly blunt and cared on the inside. He had the type of attitude that would not seem to care if their crush noticed them. Instead, he took it a step further, to compliment said crush to other people and claim not to like them. And because he was so damn loud and incredibly obvious, the other male volleyball players seemed to notice and their gazes would casually linger on you.

You would dismiss their sudden interest as only aesthetic-deep and not take any other crushes seriously, especially Tendou. His crush bounced from girl to girl and this was a well-known fact, simply because he could admire a good looking person and not get emotionally attached. However, this was easier when the girl was in his class and not as immediate as on the volleyball team.

Tendou would highlight the specific beauty of your smile or hair casually and the other third-years would calmly agree. Semi could see it all. He was in a private groupchat with those boys and you were the topic of their conversation more than once. He would see the friendly pat on the head from Reon as he complimented your cross-spike. Or how you would converse with Ushijima and his eyes would loiter even after you walked away. Or how you would smile brightly at Yunohama’s jokes.

Tendou and Ushijima’s shared dorm was secretly party central, the later surprisingly okay with socializing on a daily basis. But you normally hung-out with Semi, in his room. And recently you had been getting more and more invitations to their room. He was hella annoyed and would often drag you right after class to chill with him instead.

This did not change the fact that Tendou was aggressive and this led to the day of Semi’s snapping. Tendou was waiting outside of your classroom and once he spotted you, he stepped right between you and Semi to sling a lazy arm across your shoulders.

“Finally we are graced with Friday. No homework to worry about for tomorrow and even better, it’s a rest day for volleyball!” Tendou was narrating the day as the three of you walked, Semi pushed all the way to the side. “Shall we let go of our inhibitions to celebrate this rare occasion?”

You lightly attempted to push off his hold on you, but he did not budge. “Sorry Tendou, not exactly in the mood to go off campus tonight.”

“That’s perfectly alright with me,” He deflected the rejection, “Waka is leaving tomorrow morning so we can chill in the dorm.” Certain ideas were undoubtedly forming in the minds of two growing teenage boys and Semi did not hide his disapproval. Instead, he sighed loudly and had the urge to grab you right out of Tendou’s grasp.

“What do you plan on doing with just me tonight, Tendou?” You teased.

He only laughed and ignored your question, “So how about it?"

“I prefer to get my homework done before the weekend, so that’s what I’ll be preoccupied with tonight.” You answered and Semi smirked at your response.

He bristled at your retort and kept pushing, “Well. I know you like that cheesecake place downtown—”

“Can’t you take a hint, Tendou?” Semi asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, but once I lay my eyes on a beautiful girl there’s no way I’ll let her go.” Tendou affirmed and tightened his hold on your shoulders.

You blushed at his confidence, “Ha. Well, determination is a dangerous thing.” Semi noted your flushed appearance and the fact that you had not pulled away from his hold.

No way, not on his watch.

Your flustered looks and affectionate embraces were meant for him and him alone.

Was Tendou’s unwavering resolve really getting to you? The red-head would constantly shower you with compliments and it was only a matter of time that it would infiltrate your brain. Meanwhile, he would offer you vague responses and a sparse amount of sentiments.

With his mind made-up, Semi grabbed you right out of Tendou’s filthy arms and into his own. “Sorry. But she’ll be busy with me.” You were nestled underneath his neck and his arm was wrapped lightly around your waist.

The message he was sending was clear and if it was not, Semi sure as hell would be ready to provide more.

Instead of being heart-broken or defensive, Tendou immediately turned the situation around, “Busy doing what?” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“Staying the hell away from you.” Semi sassily replied and attempted to walk away with you in his grasp.

Tendou took the message in stride and went further to ship the two of you together for the rest of the schoolyear. The others must have received the message and they laid off from their previous flirting. Well, most of them. The only person unaffected by Semi’s wrath was the great volleyball idiot himself. But it was generally understood that he never really knew the implications of his actions.

Since then, there was no real progression in your public and private relationship with Semi. You hit every milestone with stride: prolonged hugs, kisses on the cheek, and even a sleepover when your roommate was away with her boyfriend. You were happy with how things were now and you feared if you talked about it, it would end. With no real reason to address the subject, the two of you continued with your relationship. He was there when you were sad and you surely did the same for him.

The second-year of high-school was your turning point. Your first-year friendship could be described as average, simply two members of the same game. Classmates and admirers of volleyball, you were cordial for ordinary reasons. After your injury, it was hard to personally connect with anyone.

But Semi could do what the others could not. Your second-year came with the introduction of Kenjirō Shirabu. He was a salty little douche and before the Spring High Tournament he was the official setter for the men’s volleyball team. The teammates that Semi had fostered and grown with since middle school were suddenly dragged away from him. And there was nothing he could do. His best was suddenly not good enough and he fell short to a first-year.

You connected on a level that the others could not understand. Being cut from a team was like being abandoned, but it was no one’s fault but your own. And that fact hurt more than anything. Try as you might, there was nothing either of you could really do to regain your prominence.

You found comfort in one another and it was highly noted by the other team members.

“What’s with the face?” Semi asked, noting your saddened facial expressions.

You paused and then sat-up, “We’re graduating this year.”

“Just because we’re leaving this school, doesn’t mean we’ll stop being friends.” Semi comforted. Friends… That word would continue to haunt you. You were friends, incredibly close with few secrets between the two of you. Your relationship was once in a lifetime and soon there would be more than emotional barriers separating you two.

It was not until the autumn formal that you recognized first-hand the complications of desire.

Someone asked Semi to the formal. And it had not been you. But he still said yes.

You heard this secondhand from Reon, a week after the girl had initially asked. Did he hesitate? Did he even think of you? Did he… have feelings for the girl?

She was someone unrecognizable from Ushijima’s class and you had spotted her after having lunch with just the ace. Social Media was a big thing and of course Shiratorizawa Academy had a team-spirit page that highlighted all sorts of shit. And of course, there were the posts about who was going with who to the formal. ((promposals cough))

You were unsure if you had ever seen her before. But after noticing her, you seemed to see her everywhere. She was beautiful in every way you were not – incredibly feminine and keeping up with her appearance. Flowing blonde hair that went past her elbows and she seemed to always sport a dress. Semi was not distant in any way and it seemed like he was never going to bring it up with you unless you took the initiative.

You asked once or twice about the girl and he waved off that she was very pretty and very determined. She seemed to exceedingly fancy him and would not take no for an answer. And he had no real reason to say no. No real reason. Your heart ached at his simple words. If you were no “real reason,” then you sure were not going to continue this way.

There was a month until the formal and that meant an entire month with having this loom over your head. Semi never indicated he wanted more than friendship and it seemed that was not enough for him. So you pulled away. This was hard since you sat together, but it was definitely different than usual.

You would brush off his invitations to hang-out, which was increasingly hard since you literally spent every waking day together. It hurt you, but it was a good wake-up call. If he did not think more of you, then it was about time you lessened this heavy dependence you had on him. It was an eventual problem that he would find a significant other, but now it was finally before you. You were no masochist and distanced yourself from the constant sorrow. On one occasion, you replied, “Why don’t you hang-out with your date instead?” It was petty and low, but true. You were being replaced. Why would he hang-out with you if he’s got another female on his line?

You addressed this with Reon, but he defended Semi saying that the two were only friends. Semi agreed on a whim, with no real intention of dating the girl or progressing as far as he had with you. But you denied this and stopped talking about it with the two altogether.

You were gleaning out the window, ignoring your lunch and sitting with the guess monster and his ace. “Stop frowning, (F/N)-chan. If it bothers you that much just talk to him.”

“Why should I even bother? He already made up his mind.” You pushed your already minute lunch away.

“Wow, giving up already?” Tendou mocked.

“It’s been three years. If he wanted to do something he would have.”

“You’re wrong, (F/N)-chan.” Salami countered, “Semi has already done something. He told me off, that’s for sure.”

“That was so long ago.”

“What have you done?” Ushijima interjected.

“I’ve never accepted any other man’s affection - not dates, chocolates, late-night talks.” You outwardly groaned and nearly slammed your head on the desk, “I’m about to graduate high-school and I’ve never been kissed.”

Even Tendou laughed at this fact, “Wow, (F/N)! I’d be willing to volunteer.”

You lifted your head to glare at him, “That is unnecessary.” Ushijima stated. “You have proven a great loyalty, it seems.”

“Great.” You mocked, voice dripping with sarcasm, “And this worked out so well for me.”

“It is a rare quality, one that I surely admire you for having.” You sat-up completely, back straight from surprise and eyes glued to the auburn-haired ace that continued eating like his words meant nothing. Even Tendou paused from his causal demeanor to narrow his eyes at Ushijima.

A grin reappeared on his face, one that surely spelt trouble, and he proposed, “Why don’t you two go to the formal together?”

You both paused and shared momentary eye-contact. His eyes appeared mostly impassive, but you had spent enough time with him to notice his questioning gaze. His left eyebrow was slightly upturned and you tilted your head in question.

“I cannot see an immediate reason not to.”

“Me neither."

“Then it’s settled!” Tendou got up to stand by the middle of the table, flippantly placing his hands on both of your shoulders, “Let’s send a post to the Shiratorizawa page so it’s official. Ah so cute, Waka and (F/N) at the dance together!”

Ushijima commented that was extremely superfluous, why should anyone care/know? You reasoned the same way, but Tendou claimed that it was not official until it was on the social media page. You both shrugged and prepared to pose for a picture over lunch.

“No, no. This looks totally lame.” He ended up dragging the both of you outside, in the middle of the quad during common hour. Tons of students were walking by and watched as Tendou modeled the two of you.

He settled on putting Ushijima’s hand on your waist and angled your front facing the ace. Your head was turned back towards the camera and you had a hand on his chest. This position was entirely intimate and even the dense Ushijima commented this, but Tendou waved it off. You wondered what crazy things Tendou could get his roommate to do.

Tendou was having a blast, taking multiple pictures from different angles on his phone. You wondered: how good could it possibly look? You were sporting your Shiratorizawa uniform and Ushijima was in his usual track-suit. You could hear the whispering and it seemed that posting the picture would be redundant, almost everyone saw the two of you posing like this!

The three of you returned back to your lunch table and upon sitting down, you received a brand new notification.

[Instabook] Slide to unlock and see new tagged post

Looks like the two most elusive volleyball bachelor/ette’s have snagged each other! Be sure to check-out this cute couple at the fall formal! Tagged: Ushijima Wakatoshi and (F/N)(L/N)

Attached: 1.jpg, 2.jpg, 3.jpg, 4.jpg

“Was it really necessary to send in all those pictures, Tendou?” You asked.

“They tell us to send multiple and they’ll pick the best one! Whoever the account owner is, they are the ones who decided on showing all of those!”

“But four?”

“I sent in ten. And four is the max they can post, so they must really like you guys.” Tendou teased. Almost instantly, you were getting more and more notifications.

People you had never met before were liking the post and it was embarrassing at how much attention this was garnering! You weren’t even dating! Your phone was constantly vibrating from Instabook and you muted the app entirely – you’d return to it later at the end of the day. Sadly, the volleyball team was quick to react too.

GC: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼✿ ͡◕ д ◕͡ ༽୨

14:57 From: Captain-Sama! um wtf is this Attached: THEpost.jpg, receipts.jpg, wtf.jpg

14:57 From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` ) Not the otp but I still ship it

14:57 From: Coconut-head Senpai’s gf is so cute (๑꒪▿꒪)*

14:57 From: the most tender Salami You can thank me

14:57 From: Captain-Sama! y tf would I do that

14:57 From: the most tender Salami I got the ship sailing

14:57 From: the most tender Salami And got usiwaka to ask (f/n)-chan

14:58 From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩ And u stil cant get urself a date??

14:58 From: the most tender Salami I’m going to ignore that and show off this CUTE COUPLE Attached: lunchdate.jpg, imthechaperone.jpg

Tendou was showcasing photos he literally took then and there, of you and Ushijima conversing over lunch. It could be viewed entirely as innocent, but after the previous posts it seemed to imply something. Tendou noticed that Semi had seen the chat already, but had yet to respond.

14:58 From: Captain-sama! Are they dating???????????????

14:59 From: the most tender Salami Nah, but theyre too busy to respond to the chat ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

14:59 From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩ OH SHIT

14:59 From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` ) WE’RE NOT OLD ENOUGH ( ಠ - ಠ )

15:00 From: Captain-Sama! I WANT PICS

Reon and Semi were discussing the subject in the comfort of their private dorm. It was clear to the tan boy that you were bothered by Semi agreeing to go to the formal and not even telling you! It was only now that Semi was understanding this and he looked to his roommate for guidance.

“I already told that girl I’ll go with her…” Semi was attempting to sort his thoughts, “But I don’t want to hurt (F/N).”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Reon interjected, “You already did that.”

Semi burrowed his head into his hands, “Does (F/N) think I’m replacing her? She means so much to me, that’s absurd.”

“You didn’t exactly tell her that you were going to formal with someone else.” Reon explained, “How would you feel if your closest friend was going to an intimate dance with a date that you never met before?” Semi massaged his temples further, feeling the oncoming migraine that usually came associated with a certain second-year setter.

His thoughts were unclear and the constant vibrating of both their phones were not helping his mental state, “What is happening?”

Reon browsed through his phone first and frowned, “Well. It seems a certain someone’s affection never fully disappeared from last year.”

Semi narrowed his eyes and picked up his phone to see your face splayed across the screen. A smile graced your face and it was clear who was the cause behind it. Ushijima’s smile was rare and came at random moments, but it was encased in memory through the photograph. He almost screamed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Semi threw his phone on the bed before collapsing face first into it.

“On the chat, it seems Tendou was the one who pushed them together.” Semi punched his pillow at the mention of the brash Salami. “And they’re not dating, just going to the dance together.”

Semi let out a string of incomprehensible words into his comforter. “This is Ushiwaka. He’s not like Tendou, with the endless list of crushes. He’s genuine all the time and complimented (F/N) without hesitation. As in, I’m fucked.”

Reon was inwardly rolling his eyes, it was only when Semi was entirely comfortable with the other person or very enraged that he let loose his short-tempered side. And it seemed Semi was both, right at this moment.

You broke off from Tendou and Ushijima to retreat back to your dorm room. Ushijima agreed to have dinner with you later, in hopes of coordinating your outfit for the formal. It seemed the post of the two of you was the most popular on the entire page and you would have to dress to impress the audience.

Upon entering, you were ambushed with questions from both your roommate, Reon, and strangely Shirabu.

“(F/N), what the fuck.”

“You better not hinder his abilities as ace!”

“Did you just come from lunch with him?”

You blinked at the assault and then sat-down. “One, we’re not dating. So I will not be a distraction for him, I assure you. This is mostly Tendou’s doing anyway.”

Shirabu nodded at the explanation and then walked towards the door, stopping to put a hand on your shoulder first, “Good enough. Have a good time then.” And with that he walked out of the room. Shirabu was a special type of kid, everyone knew. At least he had the best intentions at heart?

“Seriously?” Your roommate and captain of the female volleyball team asked, showing off her impeccable vernacular.

“Come on.” You threw your bag to the side of your bed.

“How did this even start?” She sat down on her own bed as Reon rested on your desk chair.

“I was talking about y’know, what’s been bothering me recently. And Tendou suggested that there was no real reason to stop Ushijima and me from going to the formal together.”

“And what? Ushijima just asked on the spot after that?” She asked.

“Yeah, pretty much. And then Tendou made a big spectacle of it by making us pose for a picture.”

“A top three ace in the entire country and 190 centimeter of pure man, and you are the one to have tamed him. Holy shit, good job.” She commended.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head and Reon could not stop his sudden coughing fit. “We are not dating.”

“Just the pure fact that Ushijima had no reason to not ask you, wow.” She commented. “If it was any other girl he would have scroll of reasons that would hit the floor with a speech to go along with it.”

“There’s no way.” You countered.

“Do you honestly think there are no implications?” Reon asked.

“Yeah, if anything he’s doing it as a favor.” You answered offhandedly, realizing your mistake instantly. It was natural to speak candidly to the two. However, it was clear that Reon would die defending Semi and thus you stopped speaking to him previously about the situation.

“A favor?” He asked, just as you had thought.

You hesitated. It was not in you to lie and it was only a matter of time before Tendou gave further details to the rest about the situation. “We were talking about Eita-kun before he asked me.”

“What about Eita?”

“Just how really messed up this situation is.” You decided on being vague.

Reon did not take the hint and continued to push the subject, “Why is it messed up?”

“You know why,” You gave him that look, like really bro, “I guess that’s what I get for assuming.

“What did you assume?” Your roommate asked, this time.

“I stayed loyal to him and I never gave into anyone. Never accepted chocolates or dates or anything. And I just assumed he would do the same?” Reon sat back in the chair, obviously mauling over your words.

“Well that is mostly true, with the exception of one person.” Both you and your roommate shot him questioning looks, unsure where he heard that from. “Isn’t it true you did extra practice with Wakatoshi for a whole month?”

“I don’t think volleyball counts as accepting affection.” Your roommate countered.

“Do you see who we are talking about?” Reon explained, “Our beloved ace lives and breathes volleyball. And he shared a good amount of that time alone with you. If you wanted to practice so badly, why not with Eita? He was the official setter.”

“Because Ushijima asked me personally.”

“And you accepted. You voluntarily spent an extended amount of time with him, engaging in the sport he loves and you didn’t think anything of it?”

“Of course not! I would have accepted practice from anyone else on the team.”

“I think that’s where you do not understand.” Reon paused, attempting to fully devlop his next few words before conveying them to the two of you. “You’re treating this extremely casually. But these are all boys who had no problems with showering you with compliments last year. Take a step back and really think about the situation.”

Your roommate interjected, “Okay, hold on. So Tendou and the boys tried to carelessly compliment (F/N) and after that she accepted one of those boy’s request to spend time with him.”

“We are not talking about some irresponsible boy. This is Wakatoshi, the most serious and straight-forward idiot to exist.”

You were sat on the bed, hands currently encasing your head in obvious stress and over-thinking. “But that’s not how I saw it! Ohmyfuckinggod.”

“I suggest you amend the situation, (F/N)-chan.” Reon advised, “I left him alone in the dorm, please talk to him.”

But you were already out the door. You had a growing list of reasons why you were an idiot and this misunderstanding definitely topped the list. You had to tell Eita that Ushijima would never hold a place in your heart like he did. It was impossible for Ushijima to have feelings for you, that was definite. Ever since your unofficial parting from Eita, you had spending more time with the ace. However, you would often be expressing your sadness about Semi and he knew entirely about your feelings. Wakatoshi was a bro.

And it was important that Semi knew that.

You tapped on his door, rapid and loud enough that you were sure other people in the hall heard it. There was a light shuffling inside and it seemed like there were multiple voices.

Semi opened a slight crack of the door with narrowed eyes, but when they landed on you they widened with obvious shock. “(F/N), what are you doing here?”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I was talking with Reon and I think I need to say something before I regret it. Can I come inside?” Semi scratched the back of his ear in thought and did not move to allow you in.

“Who’s at the door, Eita-kun?” And right before your eyes was the blonde date he agreed to go to the formal with.

Semi could literally see and feel your heartbreak. When your eyes traveled from her smiley disposition to him, he saw the narrowing – the pure anguish written across your face. It was something he never wanted to see ever again. The poor boy would do anything for you and it physically pained him that the cause of your sorrow was from him.

You swallowed your pride and yelled out, “I’m sorry for interrupting!” You ran down the hall, not caring that the door to Tendou and Waka’s room opened as you sprinted past it.

“Did you hurt her?” Wakatoshi asked a stunned Semi, who was standing in the middle of the hallway with a hand outstretched.

“I hate my fucking life.” Semi slapped a palm to his forehead. He had something to do first before he addressed you. He slammed the door behind him quickly, so neither volleyball players could throw questions at him.

“What was that?” The blonde girl asked, still standing and silently waiting for Semi. He had called her here a few minutes ago, saying that they needed to talk.

“We can’t go to the formal together.” Semi stated. “I’m really sorry if I’ve led you on.”

“Is it because of (L/N)-san?” She asked, smile still evident on her face. He nodded lightly. “You two honestly suit each other. Even I was surprised when you said yes to me.” She moved to the floor to grab her bag and leave, “May I ask, why did you agree to go with me?”

“I don’t know.” He sat on his bed and wanted to scream, it was rare for him to be so confused.

“You better get your shit together, Eita-kun.” She gave a small laugh and then exited the dorm.

There was no way that you were returning back to your dorm. You knew that your roommate and Reon would still be there and expecting details. You should have known! If you kept distancing yourself from Semi, it was only a matter of time that he found comfort in another person’s arms. You deserved this, really. You had been so petty and jealous without actually affirming your feelings to him.

Text Messages:

17:32 From: the most tender Salami What was THAT?!

17:29 From: Ushiwaka-sama! Where are you???

The only place that you knew would be free of any volleyball idiots would be the on-campus café outside of the nursing building. It only accepted money and not swipes from the meal-plan, which in itself was a turn-off from most of the volleyball teams. It was on the complete opposite side of campus from the gyms and you were sure that none of the people you knew were enrolled in medical-specific programs. Of course, everyone except from her.

It had been a full hour of dodged texts and missed calls when she neared your table. “Hi. You probably don’t want to talk to me of all people.” The blonde started, but still made a motion as if asking if she could take the empty seat across from you.

“You can have the seat. I was on my way out.” You grabbed your various things from the table, readying to leave.

“Wait, please just listen.” You paused in your movements and nodded, “Semi called me to his room to call off our date for the formal. He never meant to upset you and I’m sure he’s looking for you as we speak. Please give him a chance.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You interjected, “He said yes to you and I don’t want to take him away from you just because I am the one who is upset. You asked and he accepted your affection, something we never did. We’ve only ever been friends. With Semi, all I want for him is to be happy. He deserves all the happiness in the world, even if it’s not with me.”

Your eyes were wandering around during your speech, jumping from behind the blonde and your surroundings but never focusing on her. When you gazed back at her, she was holding a hand to her nose and lightly sniffling.

“You two deserve to be together!” She shouted, “Oh god I am so sorry for getting between you guys.”

Behind you, Semi was scouring the café in an attempt to find you. He spent too damn long thinking and not acting, it was finally time that he made his feelings known. Grabbing his phone on the way out, he called Tendou and Waka and neither boys knew where you were. A quick text to Reon and your roommate and they both asked why you were not with him. Semi sighed and continued in his search. Finally, he received a text from the blonde that she found you moping around here.

Semi could spot you in a crowd of rowdy volleyball players within seconds. He found your luscious locks of hair across the very person he left. Damn, he really owed that girl. She took rejection like pro and even took it a step further to keep you here until he arrived.

“Please, you have nothing to be sorry about.” You responded.

A pair of large hands slid to lightly weigh on your shoulders, “Can I interrupt?”

“Please do.” The blonde replied and quickly gathered her belongings. “I wish you two the best.”

Semi quickly took her seat and reached across the table to hold your hands in his. “You said you wanted to clear misunderstandings before you ran off. I need to do the same.”

His grip tightened and you squeezed back. “Let me start, since I owe you an explanation.” He nodded. “Eita-kun, you’re the only man I’ve ever had eyes for. Even if I spend time with Waka-kun or Salami, they’ve never meant more to me than just friends. You’ve always held the most special and largest piece of my heart.”

Semi smiled and moved his chair closer to yours. “I want you to know that I feel the same way. It’s rather small of me, but after you spent so much time with Wakatoshi… I wanted to test if you felt the same heartbreak I felt when I saw the two of you together. I realize now how spiteful that was of me, to the very girl I had feelings for.”

You placed a gentle hand on the side of his face, rubbing rather affectionately and he seemed to lean into it. “Looks like we’re a pair of idiots.”

“But now you’re my exclusive idiot.” He staked his claim and you wondered how his seat suddenly was right next to yours!

Semi nuzzled your nose with his own, smile enrapturing you for the oomph time. You closed your eyes and leaned forward, bumping noses until you felt the gentle touch of his lips against yours. You were entirely receptive, even moving further into his body to get the full scape of his silky lips. The tips of his hair were tickling the sides of your face. And you would kill to feel this sensation for the rest of your life.

His hands lost themselves in your hair, preoccupied with keeping a steady hold on the back of your head. You returned the embrace and he took that as an invitation to glide his lips against yours, silently asking for entrance. You moaned in answer and opened up slowly, but he took it entirely in stride – not skipping a beat.

It was only when a flash went off that the two of you broke apart, gasping for air.

“Holy shit!” Tendou yelled, Wakatoshi clapping not too far behind him. You flushed with embarrassment. God you moaned in public! “This one is for the page.”

You were about to interject when Semi stated, “Finally. Maybe now you bastards will get the message.”

New notification:

[Instabook] Slide to unlock and see new tagged post

Hot momma! Finally, it seems as though the couple everyone shipped together are finally official~ Hopefully we don’t have to mark this page as 18+ Tagged: Eita Semi and (F/N)(L/N) Attached: 1.jpg, 2.jpg / 3.gif

Semi led you back to his empty dorm, your roommate and Reon were bro’s and willingly offered to have a sleepover to give you two alone time. You were currently encased between his arms, legs tangled and speaking in low voices. He had you nestled beneath his chin, but most of your weight laid across his chest. Semi did not want this moment to end. He waited three years for this, it was a moment of love in the making. You laughed lightly in his arms, not a care in the world keeping you from him. You were both on cloud nine, basking in each other's presence. You never took Semi as a closet cuddle-whore, but you were not complaining. His arms encased you perfectly and you could not hold back from placing butterfly kisses across his chest. You loved him, it was only a matter of time that you found out.

—xXxXxXxXxXx—

➳ A/N: This fic may seem familiar because it’s being brought up over from our earlier Deviantart account! <3

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regrettablewritings · 3 years

Text

Slapped By Legal (Matt Murdock x Reader)

@locke-writes S u f f e r

‘Twas four weeks before Christmas, in a Hell’s Kitchen home, where you sat in the kitchen, feeling downtrodden and boned. Your laptop was open, the window filled with tabs Of all the potential gifts you could feasibly nab. But this was three hours into searching and nary a perfect gift could be found As your brain began contemplating just burning the building to the ground —

Okay, maybe don’t do that. But you would’ve been lying if you’d claimed you weren’t tempted to at least fling your laptop out the window. Buying gifts for one’s boyfriend was usually a point if glee for most couples. You had coworkers who would gush about what they’d gotten their partners, eagerly asking you if you wanted to see it. Even without you courteously saying yes, they would shove their phone into your face, forcing you to not only pretend to be interested, but also to remember that the clock was ticking — and you still didn’t have anything for your own partner.

At face value, Matt would presumably be a relatively easy man to but for. He lived well within his means, both to regard his disability but also because he was just simply a humble person. Most people like that would’ve been satisfied with, like, a bottle of wine.

But not your Matt: Your Matt was Matthew Michael Murdock, a man both blessed and cursed with sensitivities that made his tastes particular — literally. You had to sit on the side of caution when it came to nearly everything: Certain materials felt scratchy on his skin; certain foods and drinks tasted like every step of the factory that had contributed to their production; cologne bothered his nose; and he didn’t much listen to music anyway, so a radio or stereo would’ve been mostly pointless.

You released a loud, aggravated groan as you flopped in your seat. You were pretty positive that no matter where Matt was at this point in time, he probably heard you. Even if it was from Queens.

Fuck this, you thought as you grumpily scrolled further along your current tab. That bastard is getting a gift card. Or a wine-stopper. Or —

And that’s when you saw it. In an instant, your posture turned upright alongside your sense of hope.

— Or that!

Everything about it was perfect: The price, the content, the opportunity -- you simply had to have Matt have it!

Christmas tended to be a rather small affair for the Nelson & Murdock crew. With nobody having any real family to speak of (or, at the very least, any family worth visiting), the four of you were more than happy to make do with your own little traditions: Ordering Thai from down the street, drinking yourselves silly without the guilt, and just plain enjoying one another’s company. Oh, and opening presents together, of course.

And the entire while Foggy and Karen expressed excitement over their gifts, you sat there with a slight hint of smugness just barely nestled inside of you. When they gave Matt his own gift, you couldn’t help but feel some relief: A mug and a paperweight in the shape of an apple. Sure signs that even after all this time, they, too, struggled with what the hell to give the guy who generally wants for nothing.

You didn’t want to silently toot your own horn, but you already knew you had them beat. Hence why you saved the best for last. And although you weren’t quite certain as to how his innate lie detection worked, you couldn’t help but suspect that he was on to you. It was subtle, but it was like it was hidden in the crook of his brow every time he happened to face your direction. Not that he said anything, of course. He wasn’t new to your breed of mischief, after all.

Two could play at this game. All he needed to do was wait patiently until your dramatic self became too overwhelmed with eagerness to bear it.

The gusto with which you presented the parcel was met with further brow-cocking on Matt’s part.

“Matthew,” you spoke, enforcing an exaggeratory accent befitting of an American’s idea of a British butler, “your Yuletide endowment.”

Matt huffed with amusement. “‘Endowment’? What, are we living fancy now?” You made no response, perfectly content to simply watch him rip apart the colorful paper with anticipation. To be perfectly honest, Matt wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from you. Normally, he could tell what something was at a distance. But once boxes and further packaging got involved whatever his senses reported back to him got all fuzzy and muddled.

But surely whatever you’d gotten was something you were proud of. After all, he’d spent the entire gift-unwrapping listening to the small, telltale signs of your excitement.

“It’s a . . .” He lifted it from the ruins of tissue paper. “. . . T-shirt?”

“Uh-huuhhh!” you chriped. He could hear you practically vibrating. Matt wasn’t averse to t-shirts. But he had to admit, it was a bit of a strange thing for you to get so excited about. Though, feeling about the cotton, he could sense some roughness. Ink. Was there a design on this? Was it a graphic t-shirt?

“Put it on, put it on!” you cheered. He did so, not able to think of a reason why he shouldn’t. Besides, well, the fact that he knew you were being highly suspicious. The brief moment it took for him to pop his head through the neck hole, he could hear rustling coming from your part of the little circle. He also heard Foggy snort before weakly attempting to stifle his obvious laugh. He heard Karen’s breath hitch as well, though not in any way that denoted discomfort. In fact, he heard heartbeats quicken and lungs practically spasming.

What the hell had you done.

“Okay, I give up, what does it say?” Matt demanded.

“Nothing!” Foggy squeaked.

Matt’s lips pressed into a thing, unimpressed line. “Yeah, that’s bullshit. I don’t even need to hear for a lie, what is it? What does it say?”

“It, um,” Karen offered fruitlessly, “It says ‘World’s Best Boyfriend’, that’s all.”

“Seriously?” Matt sighed, though not without cracking a hint of a smile. “You’re going to lie to a blind guy? And to me of all blind guys?” He heard you shuffling towards him, walking on your knees.

“Don’t worry about it, Babe,” you insisted, pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. In the moment you leaned towards him, he could smell a new smell on you: It wasn’t unlike the one that belonged to his brand-new shirt.

But before he could demand the truth any further, Foggy cut in with a giggle-wobbled, “Time for Christmas photos! Say cheese, Lovebirds!”

Matt could only give in; there was no point in trying to wedge the truth out of any of you. All he knew was that he knew you three were lying about . . . something.

Ah, well, he decided as he heard the click of Foggy’s camera phone going off. Perhaps there was a way to get the truth out of you . . .

It didn’t work. In spite of his best efforts (and damn, were they his best), he couldn’t get it out of you. However, that wasn’t to say that he didn’t get anything he wanted out of you. And as he began to fall prey to his exhaustion, the events of the day finally catching up to him, he snuggled his naked form loser to yours. Perhaps the truth would have to wait for another day . . .

For your part, you were proud of yourself. Admittedly, part of the pride’s source came from the fact that you were able to hold your ground in the end (Matt was just too giving of a lover to be good at torturing you). But for the most part, it came from the fact that you were able to execute your plan as you intended it. In a way, it was also like a little bit of revenge: Revenge on Matt for being one of the absolute worst people to shop for. And for that, maybe you’d hold on to your not-so-secret secret. Just for a little while longer . . .

But first, one last relishing in your success before you succumbed to sleep.

You carefully and slowly made your way to your side of the bed. Not enough to properly wake up your sleeping boyfriend, but just so that you could reach your phone from its resting place on the nightstand. Once acquired, you pressed the home button and set your sights aglow with the image you had last had your phone on before your and Matt’s little session.

It was the picture Foggy had taken earlier of you and Matt, dressed in the matching T-shirts you had acquired for yourselves. You grinned cheekily at the camera, making sure that the bubbly white writing on the black fabric was perfectly legible: “My Ass Got Slapped By Legal.”

And next to you was Matt, a smile planted on his handsome face but altogether tainted with confusion and growing insanity over what the hell you had him wearing -- an equally black t-shirt with equally bubbly white writing: “I Am Legal.”

Oh, yeah, you decided as you smiled to yourself. This was going on the Christmas cards next year.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #daredevil imagine #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagines #matt murdock imagines #MURRY CRINGUS #i am dumb ignore me #i've had this idea in my head a pathetic amount of time

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absoluteindulgence · 4 years

Text

AFK (Away From Keyboard)

A/N: My contribution to September’s first Freaky Friday (18+). New icon, who dis? I worked non-stop on this story; hopefully, y’all like it!

Pairings: Mirio Togata x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Quarantine Blues

Word Count: 3.4K

Quarantine hasn't been easy on you. You lost your job due to your line of work not being considered 'essential.' Although bummed about it, because it was a means to an end, you remembered the times you complained about the work and how some other workers didn't treat you fairly. But the realization of being home with your fiance, Mirio, had sparked comfort. Until you found out, he still had to work.

The pain of having to stay home alone while your sunny beau worked 24-Hour shifts every other day, saving lives as he remained one of the most reliable Firemen in Japan. You felt the sadness and loneliness from him not being home for so long. And most days, you stayed in bed, too sad to move around the empty home.

With time, you habitually set a routine, eat, sleep, check social media, then back to sleep. Until you came across a group chat accepting all and any fans of a game you fancied, it had been some time since you played, not having the energy to drag your ass out of the plush, king-size bed. You pondered whether to grab your laptop from your dusty work bag in the corner of your bedroom. Or to make the trip to your living room with your HQ computer.

Of course, you went for the latter. Throwing on your robe, walking to the living room seemed like a long trip, but sitting at the master computer made your nerves settle. Starting up the machine, you fiddle with your phone chatting with your new-found internet friends. After logging in, the rest was history.

You spent so much time online that the days where Mirio was home and not tired that you were too busy gaming to stop—practically ignoring him as he came within close contact of your hunched over body. You became a complete zombie to your favorite game that no longer became your hobby but now your never-ending job.

You clocked in and out, only being away from the screen to rest and use the bathroom. It became a problem that even Mirio could see; he didn't want to press the issue so harshly since he knew how the long hours had affected you, but seeing how less attention he got when home for more than 8-hours became troublesome.

Tonight, Mirio came home earlier than expected, his high energy shone throughout the home, yet you didn't flinch from your spot. Too focused on the glowing screen, to look his direction as he creeps up onto your left side with a delicate, yet tender kiss to your temple.

"Good evening, my love, have you eaten?" His bouncy, upbeat voice knocks you out of your trance.

You look up at him with low energy, replying with a mumble, "No."

"That's too bad, but no worries, I'm gonna order some food. Do you know what you want?" He walks away, fiddling with his phone, taking off his work uniform simultaneously.

You shrug with a monotone groan, your new way of saying that you have no preference. In case Mirio can't hear you, you utter louder, "I don't care."

"Okay, Babe, well, I guess I'll get your usual favorite." His grin is apparent when he speaks, playing off not getting acknowledged the way you used to before finding your obsessed hobby turned job.

You nod without notice and clack away at your keyboard, enamored in the chatroom. You occasionally smile while grabbing for your gaming controller; you're ready to start up another game as your group chat invites you. Happily obliging them, you've been added to the team and play a couple of rounds.

So focused on the game, you didn't hear your blond beau answer the door and walk to the kitchen as he carried two substantial brown paper bags with handles. He deftly set the bags onto the island counter, pulling out each takeout container with the same enthusiasm.

"Hey, Babe, dinner's here!" Your Sunshine called out to you from the kitchen.

Glued to your computer screen, you stammer, "O-okay, Babe, I'm coming."

Lying through your teeth, you sit unfazed by the world around you and only concentrate on what's in front of you. It is a crucial time as you're close to completing the umpteenth goal, your posture struggling as you slouch near the monitor to see better.

The site is genuinely unbecoming and catches Mirio's eye; he comes from behind, hugging you while grabbing onto your wrists. The sudden warmth shocks you but doesn't stop your fingers from shifting. A huff leaves Mirio's breath, tickling your neck's nape as he moves closer to its left side. His large hands grip your controller, nearly covering yours. It's vexatious, to say the least, your quest is near completion with an unbeatable high score.

Even with his hands on yours, you still maneuver the controller, eager to finish. No longer connected to your headset, you feel the sunny man nuzzle his nose close to your ear. A sensitive, weak spot that he's using as a means of leverage. Goosebumps emerge from your neck to your chest down to your arms as you try your best to overlook the familiar sensation.

A slightly annoying groan buzzes out his throat as you feign his attempts to distract you. He applies the slightest pressure to your hands, where you're no longer in control of your joypad movements.

"Since you're not ready to eat yet, I'd thought I'd help you instead." He smiled warmly, yet you felt on edge. "Don't worry, Babe, I got this!"

As you slightly turned to look at him, he portrayed a game face. He seemed confident to beat your current quest, his hands moved as if he knew what to do, so you relaxed. Turning back to the monitor, you watched in the marvel of his hidden gamer skills; he maneuvered so flawlessly that you were shocked. Until he died, on your last life, sending your game character to the loading screen.

"Mirio, what the hell?" You squeal in annoyance, louder than expected. "That was my last life!"

He musters out a roar of laughter that only infuriates you further as you cross your arms with a huff. "Aw baby, I'm sorry. I thought I had it, but it turns out I didn't know the controls that well."

He cuddles you close to his warm chest, still resisting his advances, he snuggles you tighter than his original bear hug. You try to wiggle your way out of his loveable grip as he chuckles at your efforts. He pulls you away from the master computer, using the handles on the rolling game chair you bought together one weekend.

He turns the chair around to survey your irritated, flustered face. "Hey, don't be mad. I just wanted to enjoy the game just like you. I see how enthralled you've been and wanted to see what the hype was about."

You're silent with a bratty pout on your lips, which he doesn't take seriously and plants a brief, loving kiss onto your forehead. He beams as he gets a better look at you: You grabbed one of his firemen in training sweatshirts earlier that day after taking a shower.

"I see that my Sunshine couldn't help but to represent me while I'm away at work." A sneaky grin stretched across his scruffy, blond stubble.

"If I told you I grabbed anything just to get closer to playing my game, would you believe me?"

"No, I wouldn't," He chuckled, "I know how much you miss me when I'm away."

His stare was a tad intense after finishing his reasoning, catching you off guard. Your antics of irritation cracked as you dropped your arms and rested your hands onto your thighs. You couldn't crack a smile; all the days blurred into one as you couldn't fathom being alone at home. That loneliness you ran away from came back to spill all of your secrets.

"You're right." Little droplets of water left your eyes, "I've missed you so much. I know that you're busy saving the world one fire at a time, but since this Quarantine, I've wished for us to be together, not that I wanted you to lose your job. I just wanted us to spend more time."

"I've been suffering in silence, not knowing what to say to you as you asked me if I was okay. I thought I could get better all by myself, and yet nothing was enough." You were sobbing between words, no longer able to keep your composure. "I finally dragged myself out of bed, trying to get comfortable. And I got carried away."

You wiped your eyes of tears, focusing on your breathing as much as possible. Trying not to draw out a panic attack, you felt a warmth come from all over. Mirio held you close to him, undistracted by you sitting in the chair. He exhaled heavily, kissing the side of your face with regard.

"I'm sorry that you held on to all that pain, Sunshine. It was never my intent to make you feel alone." He held onto you tighter, "There's not a minute, no, a second that passes by, that I don't think about you. "

The warmth from his burly arms and chest eased your heart, feeling safe and wanted. Your soon-to-be husband readjusted his hands to lift you out of the gaming chair. With a gentle grip, you were in his arms, cradled close to his chest. The blond looked down at you with a passionate smile, producing your heart to skip a beat. Mirio carried you bridal style until entering the bedroom you shared, considerately laying you down onto the bed. With so much space on the mattress, you wondered why you were the only one laying on it. Glancing upon your love near the footboard, you recognized his exact mood.

"Please, let me show you how much I've missed you." He slowly unbuckled his pants, "I've had so many thoughts about what I wanted to do to you."

His look went from lighthearted to a serene, sensual gaze. It's as if laying you on the bed changed his demeanor, creating a severely lustful tone to the air. Laying on the mattress, you felt yourself go into heat, just staring back at the blond beau. His face colored an incredible hue of pink as he pulled off his shirt, too impatient to keep it on any longer.

You stare in awe as the man of your dreams crawls on top of you. Bunching up the sweatshirt, he pushes the fabric up above your breasts set to litter them and your lips with fleeting kisses, prolonging your divine flesh cavern. Your peaks are between his callous hands as his nose pokes at your abdomen, inhaling their essential fragrance. You giggle under your breath at his prickly stubble tickling your skin.

"I've missed your pillows so much, Sunshine." He muffles, erupting laughter out of you. "Yeah, get all your giggles out now, Baby. Because in a moment, I'm gonna make you holler."

Kisses trace down your body, along your hips; although his kisses feel like a rush, they're thorough in savoring every part his lips touch and occasionally sticking his tongue out to lick the bare sections of your stomach. A gasp gets caught in your throat, and Mirio groans in response. It's evident; your body's pleasure gets handled like a refined, care package.

Reaching the waistband of your generic bottoms, he slid them off with little consideration of the fabric. No protest whatsoever as to his tug at your dainty boyshorts hastened another groan to his lips. His eyes glimmered, looking at your panties, admiring the soft, satin-like material popping out so lovely onto your skin tone.

"It's like you wore all this to taunt me, Sunshine." He chuckled under his breath, "Now you're in for it."

A hastily gentle pull to your panties made for a head-turning transformation, looking at Mirio now between your legs with his slippery, wet tongue on your pink pearl. Your thighs clamped shut onto his head as he feverishly licked at you with no hesitation as if the goal to make you cum was more important than breathing.

Your short breaths turned into loud gasps and moans, echoing the room with a ringing back into your ears. Your audio sent shockwaves through Mirio, pushing him to keep going and not stop until you made a mess around his mouth. Quick licks to your clit hardened your core so tightly you felt your stomach would resemble your blond hero's abs.

"You taste, so divine, my love."

Each word between each lick set out to destroy the sanity within you. The overstimulation drives you over the edge into massive wails as you try to push Mirio's head from between your legs. His grip moves from your hips to your thighs firmly. The warmth of his palms settles your need to keep him from helping you reach paradise.

That doesn't stop the sweat from dripping off your body or your bud from pulsing between his soft, thin lips. Reaching your peak, you clench onto his hair, moaning out his name, "M-mirio!"

Calling out to him made his tongue go into turbo mode. And with no warning, united two fingers into your slippery, silk igloo. A luxurious howl left your lips as you focused on your breathing, no longer holding onto his hair, but your breasts. Pinching at your nipples caused Mirio to look at you with concupiscence. His thick fingers were less than forgiving as you contracted around them and squirmed.

The tension building within your core couldn't manage the pumps advancing in you or that relentless tongue belonging to your sunny beau. Ready to burst, you cry out, "I need to cum!"

Nothing could prepare you for the orgasm you had: with eyes clenched closed and legs spread wide, hands clenched to the bedsheets, you blasted a grand amount of squirt infused cum out of your body.

Mirio's eyes widen as he pulls back to flick your clit back and forth using his right hand, spraying your love juice all over the sheets. Pushing out your last robust grunt before your legs collapse. Your breath hitches in your throat as you attempt to catch your breath.

"Damn, Sunshine, that was amazing." Mirio sits up, looking down at your worn-out body. His attraction for you gets the best of him as he puts his fingers in his mouth while keeping eye contact, "You even taste amazing too."

An arousing shockwave stings through your body as you look back into his beautiful, cerulean eyes. With little energy, you roll your index finger for him to come closer to you. He leaps at the opportunity, mushing his still wet face onto your sweaty one, scattering kisses over your lips and neck. He positions your legs for his love rod to glide into your aching junction in the moment's heat.

"Are you ready, Beauti-"

"-Yes, Mirio, don't make me wait any longer."

Your seductive face said all that your muscular fiance needed to hear. He slid his charmer in painfully slow, observing your hungry gaze, urging him to get harder and bottom you out immediately. Grunting in unison, came right after as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You kissed along his exposed neck, making light nibbles along his right side.

"F-Fuck."

His hips pivot into you, and a light moan fled your mouth as you prepped for his roughhousing. Leniency out the window as the sloshing from your essence screamed 'keep going!' to your blond hunk. So he obliged you: Acting as a home decorator, rearranging your furniture with each thrust. Your brows furrowed from the sensual pressure placed inside as you looked back into his eyes; the smirk on his equally sweaty face was too smug. Your face was always a dead giveaway to how much you enjoyed him; these nights were no different.

"Tell me how much you love when I'm deep inside you, Baby."

"Don't make me say it, Mir-, I'm a-already showing you." The heat was going straight to your head as he put you on the spot. If you could hide your face, you would.

"Oh no, my Sunshine. You don't get to avoid this." He raised his body off your frame, lifted one of your legs to sit up straight on his bulky chest, grinding into your junction with a rapid, rugged motion.

All words escaped you; keeping up the pace was all too hard as he rolled his hips into you, ruthless and playful all at once. The grip on your leg firm with each pump is very calculated and delicate. licking his lips, he asked, "Will you admit it now?"

Tucking in your lips, you shake your head in detest. It was unbelievable, and Mirio knew it; his chuckle echoed through the bedroom, "Okay."

Positioning your legs to point west from his Adonis belt, he maneuvered himself to stay connected to your golden arches. His last straw and ultimate trump card, fucking you from the side as he smiled from above you. The position relative to hitting it from the back, but with enough spine power, you can see your firemen in action. The clutch to your waist always took you for a ride, a prime example of your fiance's strength and control.

Soaked was an understatement as your muffled whines turned into hoarse wails of satisfaction. Just when you thought you lost your voice after the lip service, your ass bouncing off Mirio's skin flute created an orchestrated symphony of lovemaking reverberating through the house. Your neighbors would have to understand; there's no holding in how incredible this sexual bond is.

"I concede, Baby." While holding onto his forearm, you passionately gawk, "You feel so good deep inside of me!"

Self-satisfied, his movement accelerated, "That's what I like to hear, Sunshine."

The harmony of skin slapping, your juicy cream canal is sloshing against his cock, the various moans and grunts you're exchanging, setting you on edge. His eyes have a deep blue gaze, leaking of an overly seductive spirit.

"Fuck, Sunshine, I'm so close. Tell me how bad you want me to pound your pretty pussy, and I will."

"Mirio, please," You grab onto one of his hands, freeing them from the grip on your thigh and placing his thumb into your mouth while sucking it, "Put my fire out."

Ironically igniting him with a trump card of your own, his pace heightened past your comprehension. Once again, your coil wound up, becoming tighter with each thrust, unbearable to endure for another moment and remaining to suck Mirio's thumb in hopes of feeling sweet deserved deliverance. The pounds from Mirio's powerful thighs were likening heavily wooded paddles sure to leave a mark.

A charge of sexual energy swelled between you two as your bodies went into a complete frenzy. The hand on your thigh moved up onto your waist with more intensity placed to your backside and your core getting the brunt of it all. Feeling Mirio expand and twitch inside indicated how close he was, and your coil had just snapped. Mirio pulls out of you, shooting his load all over your ass and thighs.

The warm puddle of white gold spills over to the front of your leg, trickling down your thighs; you watch as your fiance readjusts himself, "Shit, that was a lot. Let me get a cloth."

Less gracefully, he rolls off the king-sized bed disappearing out the room and returning with a stack of baby wipes. The cleanup is gentle and thorough as you smile at him, still savoring your orgasm. He throws them away into a trash bin near his nightstand, noting to flush them later. He crawls behind you, cradling your naked body close to his. You're melting within his embrace, feeling complete comfort.

"You know, Babe," He rubs your thigh soothingly as you quietly hum, "You didn't tell your teammates what happened after you died."

"Well, I can tell them tomorrow, no big deal."

"Well, you're right, but what if I told you, you weren't on mute?"

Your eyes shot open, "What?"

"I'm kidding, Babe! You unplugged your headset, remember?"

"Mirio, my heart just dropped to my ass, please don't scare me like that."

His familiar laugh vibrated through the room, "Sorry, Babe, I couldn't help myself! Are you ready to eat now? We've worked up quite the appetite."

He lazily winked, you giggled and nodded, "I hope you got my favorite!"

"So you heard, nothing I said when I got home, huh?"

"I didn't say that." You try to hide your face, resulting in Mirio tickling you into admitting it.

#mirio x reader #togata mirio x reader #Mirio Togata #bnha mirio #togata mirio imagine #mirio imagine #absoluteindulgence stories

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

Lost in a Lightning Storm Ch. 2: Far from Home

Summary: You shouldn’t talk about people, and not expect them to find out.

Chapters: 1, 2

While Henrik and Anti were talking to Tubbo and Logan, and then subsequently went off to Nate’s house to do some research, Mare went to go find Anti.

Anti was cackling with the Duke on some rooftop, who had escaped arrest after the chaos he had created. The two chaos-loving criminals were laughing and joking.

“Anti! Your boyfriend is getting too brave, you gotta[1] do something!” Mare said as he leaned over a massive air conditioning unit to get into the glitch’s face. Anti was lying on his back on the rooftop.

“Ooooooohhh~ You have a boyfriend?” Remus gave a huge smile, turning on his stomach and kicking his feet up like they were a bunch of pre-teens at a slumber party. “And you didn’t tell your best friend? For shame.”

“Shut up,” Anti kicked him in the face. Then he turned back to Mare. “I don’t got[2] a boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah, then what the hell is he?” Mare bit back.

“None ‘a yer fookin’ business,”[3] Anti spat back.

“M’kay,[4] whatever,” Mare rolled his eyes. “Point is, he’s trying to find you.”

“I’m right here, let ‘im[5],” Anti scoffed, still lying on the ground.

“No, the old you, the human one,” Mare warned.

“Why?” Anti spat.

“I don’t know, humans are dumb,” Mare spat. “He’s your problem, you deal with him.”

“Fook[6] you!” Anti spat and stormed off.

Directly after he stormed off, he realized that he hadn’t asked Mare where Henrik was. But it was too late to storm off. Mostly because he overheard Remus trying to weedle information out of Mare. Anti was too in his own head to admit to even himself that he was embarrassed.

So he went out to find Henrik. Except he wasn’t at the hospital . . . and Logan didn’t seem to know where he was. He wasn’t at the hospital either so Anti ran around for a little bit and found them in Nate’s house.

For a couple moments, Anti debated on how upset Mare would be if he barged into his territory. Then he figured that if Mare didn’t want him to trespass, he shouldn’t have told him to take care of Henrik . . . and Anti had been in Nate’s house before on multiple occasions.

So Anti tripped about three alarms to get into the house and Nate and Henrik watched him stroll right into the living room where they were.

“Don’t yeh[7] two know not ta[8] talk about someone behind their back?” Anti layered on the glitching and blood as much as he could.

“You are certainly getting better at zat[9] effect,” Henrik complimented.

“You bleed on my carpet and I will stab you with a soul splitter,” Nate threatened.

Anti pulled out his knife, completely offended that they weren’t screaming in terror.

Nate helped up a stake, the wood was etched with runes and spell writing. “Anti, I don’t want to explain to the rest of your friends why you’re in pieces.”

“Why the fook are yeh diggin’ inta my personal shite?”[10] Anti demanded.

“Because zer is much I do not know about you, und I vish to correct zat,”[11] Henrik told him, Nate was on his computer, still looking through old census records and newspaper reports.

“I’m right the fook[6] here,” Anti spat.

“I cannot recall a time ven ve have ever talked about any’zing,”[12] Henrik told Anti pointedly.

Anti glared at him, his nose scrunched up like the demon was about to pull his lips back in a snarl. “Why, though? No point in lookin’[13] fer[14] a dead man.”

Henrik stood up, really studying Anti’s expression, “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop.”

Anti sputtered for a moment, “I don’t care.”

“I am serious Anti, if all zis[15] investigation makes you uncomfortable or vas[16] a traumatic experience, I vill[17] stop.”

A myriad of uncomfortable feelings, that Anti refused to unpack or acknowledge, prickled under his skin and boiled his blood. He absolutely refused to be afraid of some past specter he could barely remember. Anti was better than some human who’s only contribution to the world had been dying so that Anti could be brought into the world.

So instead Anti just scoffed, some derisive, forced laugh, “Whate’er yeh two arses wanna dig up some dead bitch that did me the favor ‘a dyin’, go ahead. Here, I’ll e’en help.”[18]

Henrik watched for any sign that Anti was joking or would destroy Nate’s computer. “If you are certain.”

“Oh yeah,” Anti dismissed. “What did yeh shitebags find?”[19]

“Well,” Nate stalled as he watched Anti walk over, he stayed braced with his stake. “Don’t break my stuff.”

“I won’t,” Anti smiled. “Come on, we got some loser ta[8] find.”

“That “loser” is also a past version of you,” Nate pointedly reminded.

“Watch it, meatbag,” Anti warned. “If he wanted ta[8] stay alive, he shouldn’ta[20] died.”

“Eloquent,” Henrik commented.

“Shut,” Anti hissed back.

“Do you remember your country of origin?” Nate asked. “I’ve got several different deaths from lightning storms and factory accidents from the past 150—”

“I ne’er[21] worked in a factory,” Anti huffed, before mentally stalling because he couldn’t remember how he knew that, just that he did.

“Really?” Nate commented without even blinking. “That helps narrow it down. Means you only could have died from lightning if you’re as old as Mare says you are.”

“Mare needs ta[8] learn ta[8] keep his trap shut,” Anti scoffed.

“You were right there when he told me that, and you didn’t say anything,” Nate reminded.

Anti looked away from him, “I don’t remember this, it didn’t happen.”

“Anyways, do you remember where you came from?” Nate turned back to his computer. “I know the Septics first met you in Ireland, but are you from there too?”

“Been ta a lot ‘a places,”[22] Anti shrugged. “How am I supposed ta[8] know?”

“Well it vould[23] make it easier,” Henrik reminded.

Anti rolled his eyes, “I woke up in Australia. I hitched a ride on several hosts until I got ta[8] Ireland. I don’t know if I died there, my first ten years were a blur.”

“You are Australian?” Henrik was staring at Anti.

“No.” Hunching his shoulders up defensively, Anti glared at the doctor, “Maybe? I can’t remember. What’s it ta[8] yah[7]?”

“No, it’s not a bad thing,” Henrik rushed to say. “I just . . . it is a good thing.”

Nate and Anti just stared at him, neither of them sure which direction to take that comment, but Henrik wasn’t looking Anti in the eyes anymore. He was glancing at Anti though, a lot.

But with a country narrowed down, Nate was able to eliminate several different possible candidates. Until there were five people left, four men and one woman. Mostly because it wasn’t unheard of for gender changes to occur when a human became a demon.

“Okay,” Nate said. “We have: Caleb Carson, Hannah Laverty, Brendan O’Heyne, Angus Collins, and Joe Morrin. Does anyone sound familiar, I don’t see any pictures so . . .”

Anti’s brain felt clouded, like there was something wrong but he couldn’t place it. He felt the urge to stab something and run. Like he was in danger.

“Anti? Are you alright?” Henrik asked, there was a look on Anti’s face that the German doctor hadn’t seen on him before.

Anti’s attention drifted towards one of the names in particular. He had no memories left of that person.

Much of that person was gone now, eroded away by time, but snippets remained. Being arrested for something . . . feeling disgusting inside afterwards . . .

. . . Feeling sick as the boat wouldn’t stop shaking the world around him . . .

. . . The heat of the sun burning his skin, almost hot as the anger that burned inside of him . . .

. . . And then a deafening CRACK as he felt like his body was exploding with pain. And how they’d just . . .

“They left me there,” Anti remembered, his form glitching erratically. “They left my fookin’[24] corpse ta[8] rot!”

“Anti‽” Henrik called out but the two humans watched Anti violently shatter apart in a discorporation.

Nate surged up immediately and took out an amulet necklace. One he had once’s a while ago to safely carry Mare around. But he used his magic to scoop up as much of Anti’s aura as possible to keep him from fracturing.

“Vat[25] happened?” Henrik demanded.

“He must have remembered something,” Nate tried to calm Henrik down as he was casting spells to see how violent the discorporation was, “I don’t think it was a good thing.”

Henrik snatched the necklace away, looking at it. “Vill[17] he be alright?”

“He still seems to be in one piece, but it might take a while for him to reform,” Nate warned.

“I zink ve should stop,”[26] Henrik looked over at Nate’s laptop. “If I had known his reaction vould have been zis violent I vould have stopped ven he confronted us.”[27]

“Yeah,” Nate agreed and watched Henrik put the necklace on. “Be careful with him, an injured demon’s a more dangerous one.”

“I vill[17],” Henrik promised, and gathered up his stuff with a stiff thank you for Nate’s help and the doctor went over to his apartment with the necklace. Anti took a couple of days to reform, but he didn’t talk to Henrik. The demon would escape the necklace and then slip back in whenever Henrik was distracted or busy.

After almost a week since the incident at Nate’s house, Henrik decided that, if Anti wasn’t going to talk to him, Henrik would talk to Anti. He started out small, complaining about the coffee machine at the hospital, about how muggy the weather was.

Then, one night, while Henrik was sitting on his couch, watching some TV show, or at least had it on in the background while he was staring down at the necklace in his hands, the doctor decided to be a bit more blunt. He watched the gem, saw almost like glitchy lightning crackling underneath the surface. “I must admit, part of ze[28] reason I went digging vas[16] to get a reaction out of you.”

There was a pause to the energy in the necklace. But after a bit the glitched lightning continued as if nothing had happened.

“If you do not vant to talk about zis matter, I vill not force you,”[29] Henrik told him. “But I had hoped to get a violent reaction out of you, not to actually harm you. For zat[9] I am sorry.”

Anti’s aura shot out of the necklace was just staring at Henrik. “Why was that what yeh were goin’ fer?”[30]

“You have tried to kill me und[31] my friends many times, und[31] I vanted[32] to get you to attack me,” Henrik admitted.

“Why?” Anti scoffed, plopping down on Henrik’s couch. “If I wanted yeh[7] dead, I would’a[33] done it already.”

He took glared at him. “Zat[9] is exactly the problem, you have zis[15] odd stalking infatuation but you have tried to kill me in the past. Not to mention you utterly ruined Average’s marriage und[31] his ability to visit his children.”

“The fooker was gettin’ cucked an’ e’eryone knew it,”[34] Anti dismissed.

“She vas doin’ no’zing of ze sort,”[35] Henrik defended heatedly.

Anti looked away angrily.

The two sat in angry silence for a little while, before Henrik sighed, taking off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose before carefully putting them back on. “Anti, vat do you vant out of zese interactions ve have?”[36]

The glitch demon decided he would rather talk about literally anything else, but his only other option was talking about his former human life and he wasn’t sure which made him look worse. “I like it when yeh[7] get angry at me.”

“Is it simply ze[28] anger or ze[28] attention?” Henrik asked, genuinely trying to understand.

Anti still wasn’t looking at him, deciding that he’d rather take the human talk. “My name used ta[8] be somethin’[37] else.”

“Vich[38] do you prefer?” Henrik asked.

“Anti,” Anti told him hesitantly.

“Zen[39] you are Anti,” Henrik agreed. “As you said, zat[9] man is dead, und[31] you are here.”

Something in Anti’s chest tightened, he didn’t like it. He didn’t like even the reminder that he was human. But he started leaning over towards Henrik. It was just a little bit of a lean, not enough to even get near Henrik. So the doctor closed the distance for him, lightly resting his shoulder against Anti’s.

“I zink zat you like the attention, vich I am more zen happy to give to you,”[40] Henrik smiled at him as Anti still refused to hold eye contact with him. “Und ven you know vat you vant, you can tell me in your own time.”[41]

For the rest of the night the two of them sat in almost near silence. Anti wasn’t ready to admit anything, but still tantalizingly close all the same. Anti getting closer and close to Henrik until the doctor was pressed up against the side of the couch and Anti was leaning against him. Anti sat next to Henrik as the doctor just ran his fingers through his hair. Anymore and Anti would have started hissing and pulling away. But as he leaned into the touch the glitch decided that he liked this attention.

Henrik occasionally looked over at Anti, smiling at him.

And if, as he scratched his fingers across his scalp, heard him give out very quiet purring sounds, the doctor decided not to tease the glitch demon about them . . . at least not yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Post A/N: Anti in his AU used to be a man by the name of Angus (Jack’s “survivalist” character he made super early in his channel and in this AU Angus was arrested and sent to Australia where he subsequently died from a freak lightning storm, and then cue villain arc.

Side note: Henrik likes Anti’s Australian accent, he likes it a lot! No I will not back down from this extremely unpopular headcanon.

Accessibility Translations:

1. have to

2. have

3. None of your fucking business

4. Okay

5. him

6. Fuck

7. you

8. to

9. that

10. Why the fuck are you digging into my personal shit?

11. Because there is much I don’t know about you, and I wish to correct that

12. I can’t recall a time when we have ever talked about anything

13. looking

14. for

15. this

16. was

17. will

18. Whatever you two assholes want to dig up some dead bitch that did me the favor of dying, go ahead. Here, I’ll even help.

19. What did you shitbags find?

20. shouldn’t have

21. never

22. I’ve been to a lot of places

23. would

24. fucking

25. What

26. I think we should stop

27. If I had known his reaction would have been this violent I would have stopped when he confronted us.

28. the

29. If you do not want to talk about this matter, I will not force you

30. Why was that what you were going for?

31. and

32. wanted

33. would have

34. The fucker was getting cucked and everyone knew it

35. She was doing nothing of the sort

36. Anti, what do you want out of these interactions we have?

37: something

38. which

39. then

40. I think that you like the attention, which I am more then happy to give to you

41. And when you know what you want, you can tell me in your own time.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #birthday post #footnotes #henrik von schneeplestein #antisepticeye #Nathan Sharp #Antistein #Doctor Glitch #Anti trying desperately to run away from his emotions #finally some relationship progress #Anti's just a scraggly alley cat that doesn't know how to get a home #Anti has feels #angst and feels

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jingabitch · 4 years

Text

I Love Recycling

SUMMARY: wherein water is a scarce and precious resource and you are given to Jennie as her recycler.

RATING: Explicit

PAIRINGS: Jennie x reader; side Rosé x reader

WORD COUNT: 21.6k

A/N: !!! i was honestly scared to post this and I’m still kind of nervous so I hope you guys will be kind 🥺🥺 if i get hate on this i’ll probably delete my blog altogether lmao. this is for the handful of followers who wanted blackpink watersports.

Year 2086

Most mornings, Jennie didn’t really enjoy waking up, and would sleep past noon if she didn’t have any morning appointments. Even when she did, she often snoozed her alarm until she couldn’t anymore before getting ready.

Today, however, Jennie woke up before eight in the morning, excitement making it difficult for her to go back to sleep. Instead, she came out of her bedroom to the common area of the dorm, much to the surprise of her group members.

“Unnie, what are you doing up so early?” Lisa, who was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table having some fruit for breakfast, asked.

Chaeyoung, sitting next to Lisa and nursing a cup of tea, laughed at the question. “She’s obviously excited about today,” she teased, smirking mischievously up at Jennie.

The older girl rolled her eyes and headed to the kitchen to get some coffee. “What’s wrong with being excited?” she asked when she came back to the living room, sitting across from her two bandmates. She meant to sound tough and sassy, but there was a bit of vulnerability that she couldn’t quite hide.

Hearing it, Chaeyoung immediately backtracked. “Unnie, there’s nothing wrong with being excited! We’re sorry we laughed. I think it’s really great that you’re getting a recycler.”

Jennie blew the steam off the top of her coffee mug to avoid making eye contact with her dongsaengs. “Really?” she asked.

“Yeah, I mean, this has been your dream since even before we debuted, right? We’re happy for you, really.”

That cheered Jennie up a bit, and she smiled at them. “Okay,” she accepted, grateful to have such supportive friends. Getting a recycler had been a big decision, especially since she didn’t live alone. She’d initially been nervous to broach the topic with them, terrified that they would say no to such a big commitment and having another person living in the dorm with them, but they’d been cheering her on the whole time.

It was common for idols, as well as other members of society’s rich and elite, to have recyclers. After all, water was a precious resource, and rationed to each individual or family unit based on net worth, contributions to society, and so forth. The distribution system was regulated by an algorithm so complex most people couldn’t understand it, and there were, unfortunately, people at the fringes of society who didn’t get enough water to survive.

The solution, therefore, was relatively simple and straightforward. People who weren’t assigned enough water to survive could sign up to be recyclers and be assigned to members of society who were given an excess of water, and the name was somewhat self-explanatory. Basically, recyclers… recycled the water the elites drank.

Put more bluntly, they drank pee.

It was highly regulated, of course – applicants who wanted recyclers of their own had to go through health checkups and maintain a healthy and responsible lifestyle before they were assigned a recycler. There were background checks, home visits and it was overall a very stringent selection process. Even as the only daughter of a wealthy family, Jennie hadn’t been able to qualify. It wasn’t until she was an established idol with a group and a thriving solo career that she finally got the letter informing her that she was now eligible to undergo the selection process to have a recycler if she wanted it.

And, well… she definitely did. Recyclers, because of the nature of their relationship with their assigned donators, grew very close to them, a bond that often lasted a lifetime. It was exceedingly rare for recyclers to apply for a new donator – approximately 0.1% of recyclers did, usually because their handler abused them or had contracted a disease that made it unsafe for them to continue donating their urine. Jennie did not intend on being part of that 0.1%.

As an only child, Jennie had often been lonely growing up, and after watching a documentary when she was in her teens about the intimate bond between donators and recyclers, had craved that kind of companionship. Today, a long-held dream was finally coming true, and she was going to be bringing her assigned recycler home today.

She still had a little bit of time before she was supposed to get ready, so she opened her laptop and pulled up the file she’d been sent on her recycler. The file was comprehensive – full name, picture, age, educational background and other details. Enough for Jennie to start constructing an idea of what the girl she’d been assigned would look like, but not enough for her to understand L/n Y/n, the person. Still, she supposed, there would be plenty of time for that in the coming years.

Really, the agency had done a remarkable job of finding her the perfect companion. She’d had only a few vague ideas about what she wanted – a girl, preferably, because she was just more comfortable with having a girl around 24/7, someone younger than her so she could dote on her and fulfil her older sister fantasies, and cute. The last requirement was something that she’d reluctantly added at the request of her management company. Having recyclers was a symbol of stature, and played into idols’ image of being successful and wealthy. Jennie didn’t necessarily like it, but they wouldn’t have okayed her having a recycler who wasn’t photogenic, so she’d had no choice.

As much as she knew about her recycler, Y/n didn’t know much about her at all, because she’d requested that her identity be kept strictly private. With the amount of public interest in idols’ lives, she knew her seeking a recycler would be leaked if she didn’t take the utmost care to keep it secret, and even though it was inevitable that everyone would eventually find out, she wanted to keep it to herself just for a little while. A few weeks to get to know her recycler without public scrutiny, was that too much to ask for?

Anyways, given that her recycler didn’t know anything about her or who she was, she wanted to make a good impression. She’d been thinking of what to wear for days now and hadn’t been able to decide, but now time was running out and she had to choose something fast.

“Aaaargh,” she cried, ruffling her hair in frustration as she stared at her closet. Half of her closet was Chanel and the other half was filled with assorted haute couture pieces, yet she couldn’t come up with something that she was confident meeting you in.

Hearing her scream, Jisoo slipped into her room sleepily. “What’s going on?” she asked, yawning. Jennie had woken her up, and she sat down on the bed, sighing. She wished she was still in her own bed.

“Unnie, I can’t figure out what to wear,” Jennie complained, turning to her bandmate.

Jisoo blinked at her. “Why are you having such a hard time? It’s not a big deal.”

“But I want her to like me,” Jennie whined, sticking her head back into her closet.

“She’s going to like you no matter what, Jennie-yah,” Jisoo said, her eyes drooping.

“You don’t know that! How could you possibly know that?” Jennie cried, sliding the hangers one by one along the bar in her closet to look at all her clothes.

Jisoo sighed. “Just don’t wear pants. It makes it harder to… you know.”

Jennie, who had been looking at a pair of wide-legged trousers, turned back to look at Jisoo with wide eyes. “Oh my God, that’s true,” she said, sliding it over to the right and beginning to browse through her skirts and dresses instead.

In the end, she went with a simple ensemble – a white, off-shoulder, cropped blouse with a large bow on the bottom and a short black pleated skirt. Because she was a Chanel girl at heart, she paired it with a small black Classic Flap and heeled booties.

By the time she was ready to leave, she was running late (despite her early start today!) and dashed out of the dorm, yelling a hasty goodbye to her roommates. As she walked towards her car in the underground parking lot of the dorm, she sent out a quick prayer of thanks that YG had finally lifted the ban on the members driving. This whole thing would have been all the more awkward if she’d had to have someone drive her there.

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

As she pulled into the parking lot of the Bureau of Water Distribution, Jennie pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. The security to get in was fairly rigid, since there were so many high net worth and prominent individuals who came to pick up their recyclers here. On the bright side, that meant no paparazzi, and everyone around her today would either be trained to ignore the fact that she was an idol, or famous enough that her presence wouldn’t faze them.

After parking her BMW, Jennie got out of the car and entered the building, psyching herself up to meet Y/n. It was just the most important day of her life, that’s all. You could divorce a husband, but recyclers were forever. She introduced herself at the counter and was almost immediately taken to a private room, where she was told to wait for her recycler.

With some time to kill, Jennie started looking around. The room was beautiful – marble flooring, leather couches, fancy furniture and art. This room was designed with its wealthy occupants in mind, and it showed. She squirmed in her seat nervously, her heart pounding from the nerves. If her recycler didn’t come soon, she was going to find her on the ground, unconscious.

Despite the anticipation, Jennie almost leapt out of her seat when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” she said in a shaky voice as she stood up, her hands folded in front of her. The door opened and a stout lady in a pantsuit bustled in, clearly a member of the staff here from the lanyard dangling from her neck.

“Miss Kim, it’s nice to meet you. This is L/n Y/n,” she said, stepping aside so Jennie could take a good look at you.

You were clearly nervous, your eyes downcast and your hands, like hers, clasped politely in front of you. Without raising your eyes, you folded yourself into a deep bow, your torso parallel to the ground. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Kim. Thank you for choosing me as your—” Your eyes widened in shock as you saw the person who was standing in front of you for the first time.

“Right, well, I’ll leave you two to get to know each other. When you’re ready to leave, just give me a call and I’ll give you the rest of the paperwork,” the staff member said before making herself scarce.

“Thank you,” Jennie said, nodding at the staff member as she left and shut the door behind her. Then she turned her attention to you. Your clear nervousness did a lot to put her at ease – she immediately slipped into nurturing mode as she saw how vulnerable you looked. Clad in the plain dress that came standard issue for recyclers, slightly hunched over, trying to make yourself smaller… the wave of tenderness that rushed over her almost knocked her clear over.

“Come sit down,” she said, sitting on the couch herself and patting the cushion next to her in invitation.

“Okay, Miss Kim,” you said politely, making a beeline for the couch. Clearly, you’d been taught to be obedient to your donator, but this was a little excessive, Jennie thought.

“You don’t have to be that formal, Y/n-ie. You can just call me Jennie,” she reassured you. “And you can relax. I don’t know what they taught you about how recyclers are supposed to act, but I really want you to become part of my family,” she continued, placing her hands over yours, which were still clasped together tightly.

Your gaze drifted from your hands in your lap up to her, and the apparent sincerity in her gaze as she smiled at you putting you at ease. It was still terrifying, of course – you hadn’t known until just now that your mysterious donator was a world-famous idol, and you didn’t quite know how to react. Still, the earnest expression on her face had you believing that no matter what, she would be right there with you. It was a nice feeling, and you couldn’t believe that someone you’d known for about five minutes was able to make you feel this way when no one in your life had ever succeeded.

“Thank you, Miss Kim— I mean, Jennie-unnie,” you amended hastily. “Sorry, it’s just that your file only had your last name, so I got used to calling you that in my head.”

Then you realized what you’d said and flushed scarlet, much to Jennie’s delight. It was reassuring to know that she hadn’t been the only one looking over your file almost obsessively.

“Don’t worry,” Jennie said, squeezing your hands lightly. “I’ve been excited to meet you too. I know my file was pretty empty, though, so I’m happy to answer any questions you have before we sign the papers.”

“R-really?” Your eyes lit up.

Jennie chuckled. It was so easy to make you happy, it seemed. “Go wild,” she encouraged.

“Does being your recycler mean being in the public eye a lot?” you asked the first question that came to your mind.

Jennie hummed thoughtfully. “It might,” she admitted. “But we’ll all do our best to protect you, so you don’t have to worry, okay?”

You nodded as you digested that, then asked the next question. “Will I be living in the dorm with the other members?”

“Yeah, at least for a couple of years. When the lease is up on the apartment, we probably won’t renew it. It’s weird for us to be so old and still living together.” Catching your dumbfounded expression, she laughed. “Why? Are you excited to meet the others?”

At her question, you immediately ducked your head, though she could still see how red your ears were. She laughed in delight. “Y/n, are you a fan?”

You yanked your hands out from under hers to cover your face, which was hot to the touch. “Maybe,” you confessed miserably. She definitely found this weird now and would request a different recycler; you’d screwed things up before it even began.

“That’s so sweet,” Jennie cooed, patting your head. “Don’t worry, I’m sure everyone will love you.”

That didn’t sound like she was upset. Peeking at her from between your fingers, you saw that she was smiling, so you slowly lowered your hands. “Really?” you asked with a small voice, and she nodded at you, still smiling.

“Okay.” You smiled shyly back at her, and Jennie could barely resist cooing over you.

“Are you ready to get the papers now?” she asked, and you nodded.

She used the intercom in the room to call the staff member back, and the paperwork was quickly dealt with. You both signed the copies of the agreement presented to you – one for each of you, and one for the Bureau’s records – and that was it, you were free to go. Before the staff member left, however, Jennie stopped her to ask where the restroom was.

“What? You have a brand-new recycler right there!” the staff member barely got out through peals of laughter. Jennie looked over at you and flushed. She’d asked out of habit, forgetting that this was your whole purpose.

“Take as much time as you need, you can leave when you’re ready. Have a nice day!” she said as she left. Jennie and you stared at each other with wide eyes for an awkward moment before you looked away, clearing your throat.

“Uh, right… how do you want to do this?” you mumbled.

Jennie gulped and looked around. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead yet. “Uhh… how do you prefer to…?” she asked uncertainly.

Your gaze snapped up to hers. “I’ve never practiced it,” you told her. “Donators usually like to train their recyclers themselves according to their preferences.”

“Oh…” Jennie was clearly way out of her depth, floundering for help, and you felt a deep tug inside you that compelled you to provide that guidance.

You placed your hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back onto the couch, then got on your knees in front of her. It was here that you hesitated – was it too intimate to help her remove her clothing? Was this something she would expect of you? – and you slowly raised your hands, giving her plenty of time to take off her own panties if she wanted to.

Instead, she continued staring down at you as you slipped your hands under her skirt, resting against the smooth, warm skin of her hips. It boggled your mind that you were in this position – you, who’d entered Bureau protection at the age of fifteen, who’d led a miserable, unspectacular life right up till this point, had been chosen as Jennie’s recycler. And she was so nice, too. Maybe this was an apology from God for dropping the ball on your life so badly.

“All right,” you murmured. “Here we go.” Then you hooked your fingers in her panties and started drawing them down. You’d never done this in real life, but there was an abundance of written material for recyclers, so you knew in theory how it worked. Swallowing hard, you pulled the scrap of lacy fabric down her legs gently, then set them aside.

“Uh, okay…” You looked up at her. “So, how do you want to do this? Do you want me to close my eyes, or…”

Jennie just looked blank. Clearly, she hadn’t given much thought to the details involved in recycling. Well, you thought optimistically, this was preferential to the donators who fetishized the act.

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted.

“It’s okay,” you rushed to comfort her, squeezing her ankle. “We can figure it out together.” Sooner rather than later would probably be best though, since she was starting to squirm in her seat. Pushing her knees apart, you positioned yourself beneath her, opening your mouth and looking up at her face.

“Is this okay?”

“Uh, I guess?” She was still gnawing her lip uncertainly, though, so you sat back to regard her.

“Is something bothering you?” you asked, your brows knitting together in concern.

“I don’t know, this is just kind of weird, isn’t it?” she fretted. “I don’t want to accidentally spray you in the face.”

You bit back a laugh. You were literally drinking her urine, and she thought you were afraid of getting some on your face? That was kind of cute, you thought. “Even if you do, they always keep wet wipes and towels in the rooms so that’s not a problem. If you’re really worried, I can form a seal with my mouth, but I read that sometimes it’s harder to pee like that.”

“Okay, let’s try that first, and then if it doesn’t work, we can go with the wipes?” she suggested. Your new donator was honestly so cute, and it was so different from her onstage persona that you were confused. Compartmentalizing it all and prioritizing her current needs over your disbelief that any of this was happening was the only way you were getting through this, but there would be plenty of time later to sit and mull over your thoughts.

Shuffling back slightly, you bent down to press your mouth to her bare pussy, being extremely careful with the… placement of everything so you didn’t make it awkward. Once you were settled, you remained still, focusing on not moving your tongue at all. Not knowing where to look, you ended up focusing on the ceiling. As a result, you didn’t see Jennie’s face twist slightly as she tried to focus on releasing her bladder.

Even though you couldn’t see it, you heard her huff in frustration and effort and felt the minute movements as she clenched and released her pelvic muscles, trying to start the stream. You waited patiently, your hands resting in your lap, forcing your body to relax to avoid stressing her out.

Eventually, she managed to do it, a little spurt trickling into your mouth. After that, it felt like the floodgates had opened as she started peeing more forcefully, forcing you to gulp it down hastily if you didn’t want to choke.

Urine, you’d read, tasted bitter and/or salty, depending on the diet of the individual. You’d been prepared to get used to it, knowing that you didn’t have much of a choice, but thankfully Jennie didn’t taste awful, which was probably because of her healthy diet. It just made you all the more grateful to have been assigned to her.

The stream eventually petered out, and you waited for a second to make sure she was done before pulling back, not sure if she wanted you to help clean her off. You looked up at her uncertainly and found her staring at you with a look of such sheer contentment that you couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Thank you, Y/n-ah,” she said, still looking blissed out, and you helped her get dressed before standing up. She stood up too and took your hand as she led you out of the building.

When you stepped out, you blinked, slightly disoriented. You’d barely left this place for five years, and now you were leaving for good. It felt weird – even though you knew that this day was coming, especially after you received the file on your donator, it still felt strange to be walking out like this, with Kim Jennie from Blackpink, no less.

Jennie caught your bewildered expression and paused. “Are you okay?” she asked, taking a step back so she was standing next to you again.

“Uh, yeah, just… it’s been a while since I came in,” you replied dazedly, looking up at the building. It looked so ordinary from the outside.

You didn’t have that many things, having led a fairly spartan lifestyle in the Bureau, so there wasn’t much to load up her car with. Jennie had been informed, of course – donators were expected to provide for all their recyclers’ needs, which was one reason why the income requirements for donators were so strict. You slipped into the passenger seat of the BMW, looking around with wide eyes and sitting carefully with your hands folded in your lap, not wanting to touch anything unnecessarily.

“Relax, Y/n-ie.” She laughed at you as she started the car. “Put on your seatbelt,” she reminded, pulling out of the parking lot. You buckled yourself in but continued sitting uncomfortably.

“Seriously, chill out. You’re going to be spending so much time in this car; you can’t possibly stay like that forever.”

“Okay,” you said shyly, relaxing just a little into the seat. The windows were all tinted so no one could see in, which was probably for the best, since you were not ready to be plastered all over the tabloids.

“So tell me more about yourself, Y/n-ie,” Jennie requested. “You mentioned earlier that it had been a while since you came in. When did you join the Bureau?”

“When I was fifteen,” you explained.

“Really? That’s young. I thought people could only sign up to be recyclers when they turned eighteen.”

“That’s true, but there are exceptions for extenuating circumstances, like where families are unable to provide for their children.”

“Oh,” she said awkwardly. “I’m sorry.” You could see her wincing, like she was afraid she’d said something wrong.

“No, don’t be,” you assured her. “I never had the best life anyway. It actually got better when I was emancipated from my family. I got to finish my GED and everything because I joined the Bureau.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said a little lamely, not sure how to process that. She’d always known she was fortunate to be born into a family that could afford to give her all the opportunities that had led her to where she was today but seeing the difference between her life and yours so starkly forced her to confront her privilege more directly.

She directed the conversation back to more neutral topics and the drive home passed relatively quickly. As they took the elevator up from the underground carpark, Jennie prayed with all her might that the others hadn’t decided to do something completely over-the-top and ridiculous to welcome you into their home. You already seemed overwhelmed with everything that was happening (and yeah, maybe she should have consented to letting you know her identity before today) and she didn’t want to stress you out anymore.

Thankfully, there were no streamers or anything like that, although all three of the girls were seated on the couch, eagerly waiting. When the door opened, they leapt up as one, rushing to the door. You were, of course, startled by the sight of the three celebrities all but tripping over themselves to come greet you, and hid behind Jennie, clutching the back of her shirt while you peeped at the others over her shoulder.

As annoyed as she was with the others for being so extra, she couldn’t help but enjoy the way you were clinging to her, seeking protection and comfort. This was exactly what she’d been craving her whole life, and on the day that she met you, you provided it for her so effortlessly.

“Guys,” she frowned at them, but none of them were buying it since they could all see the subtle signs of her happiness that she couldn’t quite hide. It was in the way her eyes softened slightly and the relaxed posture of her shoulders.

“Sorry,” Lisa giggled. “We were just so excited to meet our new roommate.”

“Well, this is L/n Y/n,” she introduced you, stepping aside so the others could take a good look at you. Deprived of your shield now, you seemed to fold in on yourself.

“Hi,” you said in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper. Your greeting was accompanied by an awkward little hand wave, and Jennie could see the rest of the girls melting over you.

“Okay, let’s get you settled in, sweetie,” Jennie butted in. You nodded and followed her to her room like a baby chick, and she busied herself with showing you around and telling you where your stuff was, trying her best to ignore the sound of the others sitting in the living room cooing and giggling to each other.

When she was done, which honestly didn’t take that long since the apartment was rather modestly sized anyway, they returned to the living room where Jennie sat on the floor in front of the coffee table and you knelt politely next to her.

“I’m hungry, did you guys order lunch yet?” she asked the others, looking at the impressive collection of takeout menus spread out across the coffee table.

“No, we thought since it’s Y/n’s welcome lunch, she could order!” Chaeyoung explained, smiling at you.

“You guys, that’s so nice!” Jennie was moved on your behalf, but you were basically frozen, staring with wide eyes down at the menus. You had no idea what to do – at the Bureau all meals had been provided (and none of you had ever had any money anyways), and back when you’d lived with your parents, takeout had been a rare luxury.

“Um, what do you like, unnie?” you immediately turned to ask Jennie, the person you were the most familiar with in the house, albeit not by much.

“You should choose what you like today, Y/n-ie!” Jennie, absolutely unhelpfully, encouraged.

“Uhhh…” You turned back towards the dizzying selection of menus. “Maybe we can just get some kimchi stew?” You went with the most simple, basic option you could think of. Your mother used to make it for special occasions, and it was one of the few good memories you had of your childhood home.

“Yeah, that sounds great!” Chaeyoung cheered enthusiastically, sweeping aside the mess to pick up the menu for her favourite stew restaurant. “What do you guys want? I’ll order it,” she asked the others, and soon all four of them were poring over the menu, their heads close together as they discussed what dishes to get.

Since you’d already chosen, you sat back on your heels, watching them. Really, for being one of the most popular groups in kpop today, they seemed surprisingly normal to you. You hadn’t known what to expect coming into their home, but they were doing their best to make you feel included and comfortable with them.

Even as you were looking on fairly contentedly, ruminating on your good fortune to have gotten such an amazing second family, Jennie reached over to your lap and took your hand in hers, squeezing it reassuringly. When you looked over at her, she smiled at you, trying to convey without words just how happy she was that you were here.

For the first time, you started to believe that maybe the Bureau had been right when they’d assured the recyclers that they would help them find new homes far better than the ones they’d left.

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

After lunch, all the girls retreated back into their rooms for naps. You and Jennie ducked back into her room – well, you amended, it was your shared room now – and Jennie shut the door in Jisoo’s face as she tried to come in after them. “Sorry, unnie, but she’s my recycler,” Jennie said, giggling at Jisoo’s stunned face before closing the door.

When she turned back to you, however, her expression was a lot more uncertain. “I hope that was okay,” she said. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You smiled back at her. “No, of course not,” you rushed to reassure her.

“Oh, okay, good,” she replied with visible relief. “Um, I do have to…”

“Right, of course.” You’d watched her casually drink glass after glass of water with lunch, after all, so this wasn’t really a surprise for you. It had been a little disconcerting, sure, because you were pretty sure between the four of them they’d easily consumed a day’s worth of water for you during lunch, but then again, they were rich and famous idols, so that was to be expected.

“How do you want to do this?” you asked, though you didn’t have much hope that she had an actual answer for you, based on how lost she’d been earlier.

Predictably, she just stared at you with wide eyes. Your lips twitched. “Do you want to do this in the shower?” you offered. There were a number of positions you’d studied, but obviously you’d never tried any of them out. She nodded, and you made your way to the bathroom together.

You knelt in the shower and waited for Jennie to join you. She stepped in hesitantly, standing in front of you. “Hey,” you greeted, smiling up at her as you held a hand out for her to take. She placed her hand in it and let you pull her over. “You okay?” you asked, running your thumb across her knuckles.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling down at you. Letting go of her hand, you slipped your hands up her skirt again to pull her panties down and off. She stepped out of them, then stepped closer to you.

“You have to open your legs a little more,” you murmured, before ducking your head slightly so you could look up at her pussy. Getting the idea, she widened her stance, then frowned. It still felt awkward.

Seeing her discomfort, you shuffled back closer to the wall, then guided her into a different position. Her hands were braced against the wall above your head, and she’d raised one leg, her knee pressing against the wall for support. “Is this better?” you murmured.

She nodded, then closed her eyes, concentrating. In this position, your mouth wasn’t pressed against her, so the first spurt missed your mouth entirely, spraying your cheek and dripping down your neck. Ignoring it, you adjusted your position and came a little closer to catch the rest of it neatly. Her taste was quickly becoming familiar to you now, and as you gulped it down, your eyes wandered up to her face, catching the blissful, relieved expression she was wearing. Her eyes were closed and her mouth slightly open, her brow furrowed slightly as she leaned her face against her arm. It was so cute that you couldn’t look away for a moment.

When the stream finally waned and then stopped, the last bit dripped against her thigh instead of falling into your mouth. You went to clean it up for her, then hesitated, not sure if she would be comfortable with it. Jennie had caught your aborted motion and asked what you were doing.

You looked up at her with an embarrassed flush. “I was, uh, going to clean it up for you,” you admitted.

She giggled at you, resting her forehead against the wall to look down more comfortably. “Go for it,” she urged, and you drew your tongue up her inner thigh, following the trail. You paused when your tongue hit the crook between her thigh and her body, and she just smiled at you encouragingly, so you continued, lapping up the droplets that clung to her.

Jennie helped you get yourself cleaned up after, then tucked you in next to her for a nap. As you drifted off to sleep, you squirmed a little closer to her, seeking her warmth and comfort.

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The day that Jennie had come to pick you up from the Bureau, you quickly learned, had been a rare day off for all four of them. Most days, even if they didn’t have group activities and appearances, Jennie had her own solo appointments, like interviews, meetings with Teddy for her solo work, Chanel appearances and so on. Because you couldn’t be away from her for more than a few hours, you went with her for most of them, though you stayed behind the scenes.

Since you’d come to her with so little of your own, Jennie had been having a field day shopping for you. Whenever she was free, she’d be on her phone or laptop browsing the different shopping websites with you. At first you’d been reluctant to buy so many new things, only selecting cheap clearance items, but with her repeated encouragement, you’d gotten bolder with choosing clothes and accessories that you liked.

Today, you were dressed in a cute summery outfit, a loose V-necked blouse with ruffled half-sleeves tucked into high-waisted dressy shorts. Loafers completed your cute ensemble, and a Chanel pendant that Jennie had lent you sat between your collarbones.

Jennie was supposed to be focusing on the photoshoot, but her gaze kept drifting towards you, sitting behind the photographer and watching everything with rapt attention. After being in the spotlight for so many years, all of this was commonplace to Jennie, just another day’s work, but it was all new and exciting for you, and seeing your fascination with photoshoots and music recording was refreshing for her.

The photographer knew Jennie was distracted, but the expression she was wearing, soft and open, was far better than the neutral, slightly pouty one she usually showed the camera, so he didn’t complain or direct her attention back to the shoot. This was amazing stuff, and fans would go wild for these photos.

He’d wanted to include you in the photo shoot and tell the world about Jennie’s new recycler, but that had been strictly forbidden. Jennie wanted to be able to tell the public about her recycler on her own terms and when you were ready, and you definitely weren’t yet. It was becoming somewhat of an open secret in the industry since you followed her almost everywhere, but everyone knew that if they were the one to leak it to the public, they would be blacklisted by YG, so no one dared.

When the photoshoot ended, you went back to the dorm together, Jennie driving while you chattered on excitedly about what you’d seen at the shoot. It appeared that Jennie wasn’t the only one who thought you were adorable – the other staff members there had too and indulged your many questions. The makeup artist had even done your makeup, and you were still giggling about it when you left the shoot venue with Jennie.

Tonight, however, Jennie was a little distracted, because she was going to see Kai for the first time since she’d gotten you, and she was worried about leaving you at home. You’d started to get along well with the others, so she wasn’t concerned about that, but for the last two weeks or so that she’d had you, you’d barely left her side. Was it weird to get separation anxiety from her recycler?

When you got back to the apartment, Jisoo and Lisa were still out with their own appointments, but Chaeyoung was hanging out in the living room watching Netflix on the TV, so you skipped off to join her while Jennie went and got ready. She called you into her room before she left to use your services, and you slipped off the couch to enter her room.

By now, you’d figured out your favourite way to do this, and Jennie had bought a special chair for this purpose. You rested under the seat comfortably, your body on an incline with your head slightly back, while Jennie sat down. She’d decided that she liked it better when your mouth was pressed against her, telling you that it was because it made less of a mess but actually rather enjoying the warm, cozy feeling of your lips against her, so the chair was set up so that your face was almost peeking through the seat.

She was wearing a pretty dress, which was currently scrunched around her waist, her panties in your hand. From her position on your face, she was staring at your legs, which were stretched out across the floor. This was the position that was the most comfortable for both of you given the limitations of the chair, and even though she’d been self-conscious at first about the way you were basically looking directly up her ass in this position, you’d rightly pointed out how silly it was to get shy about that, all things considered.

You really were a godsend, she thought as she relaxed and started to urinate in your mouth. So sweet and kind to her and everyone else you were around, and really, having you around meant she didn’t have to spend as much time fighting with the other girls for access to the bathroom, which was great in itself, but this comfortable set-up felt like the epitome of luxury to her. She was starting to love the experience of pissing in your mouth, and she wondered if you were aware of just how much she liked it.

When she was done, you conscientiously licked her clean, as usual, another aspect of the whole experience that she deeply enjoyed, then she got up off your face. You smiled at her as you extricated yourself from under the chair, then held her panties out for her to step into.

“Have fun on your date tonight, unnie,” you chirped, seeing her to the front door where she put her shoes on. She gave you a hug and a forehead kiss before departing.

You returned to the couch, curling up next to Chaeyoung with your legs folded beneath you, and she unpaused the show you’d been watching. It was just the two of you tonight, since Jisoo and Lisa had plans too. You didn’t mind – after Jennie, Chaeyoung was probably your favourite. You rested your head on her shoulder as you watched the movie quietly.

When the credits started to roll, Chaeyoung switched off the TV and the two of you made your way into the kitchen to get dinner. As you were chopping up the kimchi for the kimchi fried rice, Chaeyoung, who was stir-frying the pork, struck up a conversation by asking you how your day had been.

Excited, you started chattering on about how much fun you’d had tagging along on Jennie’s photoshoot, continuing even after dinner was ready and you moved back to the living room to start eating.

Chaeyoung, who, like Jennie, was so used to photoshoots and the like that they’d completely lost their charm, thought it was absolutely adorable how excited you were about what to them were regular, daily events. When you finally wound down, she asked, “So what was it like for you growing up?”

You put down your spoon and finished chewing your food. “I didn’t come from the best family,” you explained. “I was emancipated when I was fifteen and joined the Bureau and lived there until I was old enough to come here.” Jennie knew most of the details surrounding your past, courtesy of sleepy late-night chats almost every night, but the others didn’t.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Chaeyoung apologized, thinking she’d brought up unpleasant memories.

You shrugged. “It’s all right. My parents tried their best, but there was never quite enough water and money. It was a relief for us all when I left, I think. And I’m here now, so it worked out,” you concluded, smiling at her.

“I guess you’ve been enjoying your time with us then?”

“What gave me away?” you giggled. “Everyone’s been really nice, especially Jennie-unnie. I’ve never had so many clothes and things.”

Chaeyoung was surprised by how happy you seemed to be. Even though recyclers were fairly commonplace, she’d always expected that they would be kind of unhappy about their lot in life. “Really? So you don’t mind the whole drinking pee thing?”

You’d just put a spoonful of rice in your mouth when she said that, and in your surprise, some went down the wrong pipe, causing you to choke and cough. “Jesus,” you wheezed when you finally recovered.

“Sorry, sorry!” Chaeyoung cringed. “That was a really personal question, wasn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you shrugged, “but it’s okay. And to answer your question, I don’t really mind, I guess. Like, I learned at the Bureau that some people taste pretty gross, but Jennie-unnie tastes okay. And it makes her so happy.”

“Yeah, it really does.” Chaeyoung had to agree. In the past few weeks since you’d come to live with her, Jennie had smiled more, and doted on you like crazy. Plus, it was clear the arrangement suited her – the satisfied smile she wore whenever you emerged from her room together had become somewhat of an inside joke among the girls.

“Are you thinking of getting a recycler of your own?” you asked, resting your chin on your hand as you regarded her. Your expression was open and friendly, and Chaeyoung hesitated, looking away shyly.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for the commitment,” she confessed.

“I understand that,” you said, nodding. You really did – a recycler was a whole person that she would be responsible for, and you knew it was a big responsibility. “I think it’s really great that you’re aware of your limitations.” You reached over and patted her hand.

With a rush of bravery brought about by how nice you were being, she finally said, in a slightly embarrassed tone, “I’ve always wanted to try it, though.”

“Try what?”

“Uh, you know…” Having utilized her store of bravery, Chaeyoung hid her face in the crook of her elbow on the table.

“Oh,” you said, then, as the meaning of her words sank in, you repeated, “Oh.”

Even though her head was resting on the table, you could see her shoulders drawing up around her ears as she let out a miserable whine, regretting having said anything in the first place. Your lips twitched in amusement. This was honestly pretty funny, and even after being here for a couple of weeks, you couldn’t believe that little old you got to see the famous pop stars like this.

“It’s okay, forget I said anything, please,” Chaeyoung begged, finally lifting her face off the table to face you.

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from laughing at her. “No, it’s okay, really,” you rushed to assure her when you were sure you could speak without gigging. “Have you talked to Jennie about it?”

Chaeyoung shrugged. “No, why would I?”

“She might be able to tell you more about it,” you said, then hesitated before making your offer. “Plus, if she doesn’t mind, I could… you know.”

That caught her attention. “Really?” she asked, perking up.

“Yeah, if Jennie-unnie is okay with it, I guess I don’t mind,” you said, shrugging. After all, you’d been around her long enough to know what her eating and drinking patterns were like, and she seemed to have a pretty healthy lifestyle, so you didn’t have any concerns.

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It was past midnight when Jennie came home, and you were already in bed, doing something on the laptop she’d gotten you last week. You looked up when you heard the door open and smiled at her when she came in.

“Did you have a good date?” you asked as Jennie set down her bag and sat at her dresser to remove her makeup.

She smiled at you in the mirror. “Yeah, I did,” she told you. It was true – Kai knew that she’d gotten a recycler since she’d been texting him with updates while he was on tour, and was interested to know how you were settling in, plus they’d had sex at his apartment after dinner, which was why she’d returned to the dorm so late.

As she went to the bathroom to shower, she thought about something weird that had happened, though. Kai had been almost too interested in you. At first she’d brushed it off, happy that he was taking an interest in you since you were now an important part of her life, but he’d kept asking intimate questions that she didn’t quite know how to answer.

Plus, she’d had to use the toilet at his apartment since she couldn’t hold it anymore, and after weeks of pissing exclusively in your mouth, it had felt strange and almost unpleasant. Would it be weird to take you along on date nights, she wondered. It was almost inevitable that you would meet at some point if her relationship with him continued, so it might be best to introduce you two anyway.

By the time she went back to the bedroom, clad in her pajamas, you’d put your laptop away and were snuggled up in bed, on the side closer to the wall. You smiled softly as she padded through the room to get under the covers next to you, turning onto your side to face her. Excitedly, you asked her for more details about your date, and she acquiesced, recounting every detail of it to her attentive one-person audience.

“Wow,” you sighed as you closed your eyes, “that’s so cool. I’ve never been on a date like that before.”

“Really? Never?” Shocked, Jennie turned onto her front and propped herself up with her elbows on the mattress so she could look down at you.

“Yeah, I went to live in the Bureau when I was fifteen, remember?” you said, opening your eyes.

“Right.” Jennie lay back down, starting to feel bad for you. If you were her recycler, chances were you’d never be able to experience many things that she took for granted.

“And you’re dating Kai from EXO too, wow,” you sighed. “I love EXO.”

“Well, maybe you’ll be able to meet them one of these days,” Jennie said lightly. Now that she knew you were excited about EXO, she felt a lot better about introducing you to her boyfriend.

“Maybe,” you said, before letting out a massive yawn.

“Okay, sweetie, good night,” she said, leaning over to kiss your forehead, before turning off the light using her phone.

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

The next morning, you and Jennie slept in, and by the time you emerged from her room, the others were already hanging out in the living room. Jennie went to get breakfast for both of you in the kitchen while you sat on the couch with Lisa.

Chaeyoung, seeing Jennie, got up and followed her to the kitchen. After exchanging greetings and niceties, she got straight to the point, too excited and nervous to beat around the bush. Last night, she’d barely gotten any sleep from thinking so hard about your offer, and the more the thought floated around her mind, the more she found herself craving it.

“Unnie, can I ask you a question?”

Jennie, still slightly sleepy, grunted as she poured herself some coffee.

Understanding that that meant yes, Chaeyoung forged ahead. “Do you like having a recycler? Like, I mean, the actual recycling part,” she clarified.

Jennie turned to blink at her, the coffee pot still in her hand. “Are you asking me if I like having Y/n drink my pee?” she asked slowly. She wasn’t much of a morning person, and Chaeyoung could hear the gears in her head slowly grinding as she thought about the question.

“Uh, yeah,” Chaeyoung confirmed, a little abashed now as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Yeah, it’s nice.” The thought of it put a little smile on Jennie’s face as she took her coffee and turned to lean against the counter, raising the mug to her lips.

“Great, that’s great. I was talking to Y/n-ie about it last night, and uh… I was wondering if I could try?”

“Try… what?” Jennie raised an eyebrow.

“You know…” Chaeyoung, now shy, looked down at the floor. “Recycling.”

“Oh…” After pausing to take a sip of her coffee, Jennie shrugged. “I mean, it’s her choice. If she says yes, I’m not going to stop her.”

Hearing that, Chaeyoung’s eyes lit up. “R-really?!”

Jennie blinked, not sure why she seemed so surprised. “Yeah, she’s still her own person. I can’t make these decisions for her. But only if she wants to, okay? You can’t pressure her into it.”

“No, of course not,” Chaeyoung assured her. “She was the one who offered, actually. Yay! Thank you, unnie!” she cheered. “I can’t wait to tell her about it.”

At the blatant display of enthusiasm, Jennie rolled her eyes and raised her coffee cup back to her lips to hide how cute she thought her dongsaeng’s excitement was. As much as she tried to play it cool, she could relate – she loved recycling too. It was probably a strange comparison to make, all things considered, but you’d spent more time down there with your lips pressed to her than Kai ever had, and she was starting to enjoy you cleaning her off way more than she should, given that it wasn’t necessarily an erotic act for you.

Still, she thought as she downed her coffee, that seemed like a problem for a different time, when they didn’t have to get to the studio to practice. Placing the mug into the sink to wash when they got home, she left the kitchen to eat breakfast and then get ready.

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Watching the girls practice for their new comeback was seriously the best thing that had ever happened to you, you thought as you sat in a corner of the dance studio with the dogs. You’d taken a liking to each other, and Kuma was lounging comfortably in your lap while Dalgom sat next to you, whining every time you stopped petting him.

Their comeback song was really catchy too – Teddy had really outdone himself this time, and you couldn’t wait for their comeback. It was so different, though, seeing all the behind-the-scenes prep for everything before the final product, and it gave you a way better understanding of how hard the girls actually worked.

Jennie’s skin tasted different, too, during and after dance practice, which was something you probably should have expected, but it didn’t occur to you until after she’d settled on your face, her thighs bracketing your face. Since you couldn’t bring her chair around with you, for obvious reasons, the two of you had had to figure out a more minimalist way of doing this while you were out of the house.

Since there were so many prominent people in YG, almost every room had some facilities to cater to recyclers, like a screen for privacy. It meant that Jennie didn’t have to spend as much time going to the bathroom down the hall, which did make them more efficient, because she had to pee all the time, but since the other girls didn’t have recyclers, it didn’t really help that much.

Still, it was nice taking breaks to feed you her piss. You always smiled at her, and had sweet words of encouragement, telling her she was doing a good job even if it didn’t feel like it. It was almost worrying how much she was coming to depend on you, not just for her physical needs, but for your companionship and emotional support as well.

Plus, having you lick her clean sent a little thrill down her spine every time, and that definitely helped to cheer her up. Although she shied away from thinking of it as an erotic act, it did feel a lot like unconditional acceptance, especially when she knew she was sweaty. You never even made a face, easily going with the flow (pun unintended).

It wasn’t uncommon for recyclers to form close bonds with their donators, Jennie knew. YG had many donators among its ranks – TOP from Big Bang had adopted one after he cleaned up his act enough that the Bureau considered him eligible, and his recycler, who’d been with him for three years now, was doing a remarkable job at keeping him on the straight and narrow. Being so directly responsible for someone else’s welfare had really made him more careful with his own body.

When the girls declared that it was time for a lunch break, you tagged along with them to the cafeteria. The food at the YG cafeteria was famously delicious, and you always enjoyed eating there. Plus, you got to see the trainees, idols and actors come and go, which was always fun, even if you sometimes had trouble not staring.

After lunch, the girls were going their separate ways – Jennie had to work on her solo album, Lisa was going to work on a dance collaboration, Jisoo was going to film for her new drama and Chaeyoung was off to an event. After waving goodbye to the other girls, you followed Jennie to the recording studio.

Seeing that you were alone there since you were a bit early, Jennie took the opportunity to ask you about her conversation with Chaeyoung earlier. Sitting you down on the couch, she rolled a desk chair over so she could sit facing you.

“Chaeng asked if she could try, uh…” Really, she thought, it was ridiculous how much difficulty she had talking about when it had become such a significant part of her life.

Fortunately, you remembered your conversation with Chaeyoung last night, and understood what she was trying to say immediately. “Uh-huh?” you nodded, looking at her attentively.

“She said you were okay with it, but I just wanted to check if you’re really okay. I mean, you don’t have to feel like you have to just because she’s my friend and all, and if you don’t want to I can tell her no—” Jennie was starting to ramble, so caught up in assuring you that you didn’t have to feel forced into anything because of your position in the household.

“No, I was okay with it,” you cut her off with wide eyes. “I was the one who offered. Is that what you were talking about this morning?” Come to think of it, Chaeyoung had left the kitchen in such a good mood this morning that you should have realized that something was up. You’d been playing with Lisa’s cats, though, so you hadn’t given it much thought.

“Yeah, she asked me about it in the kitchen,” Jennie confirmed. “I just wanted to check if you were okay with it.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” you said with a smile. “Oh, unless you mind,” the thought came to you suddenly. “I’ll tell her no if you don’t like it!” you rushed to assure her. You hadn’t even considered that she might have a problem with it when you opened your big mouth (again, pun unintended).

“No, no! I don’t mind. You can do whatever you’d like, of course. I won’t stop you.”

“Oh… okay. Great!” you said slightly awkwardly, not sure what else to say in this situation. Thankfully, Teddy entered the room and saved you from having to say any more.

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

Based on the way Chaeyoung was staring at you over dinner, you were pretty sure Jennie had already green-lighted things with her. The anticipation in her gaze was almost disconcerting in its intensity, but truth be told you were kind of flattered that she was so excited about it. Jennie had a boyfriend, so you knew that this act was nothing sexual for her, but you’d learned during your time preparing to be a recycler that for many donators, having someone consume their urine directly from the source was often an intensely sexual experience.

From Chaeyoung’s almost predatory gaze, you were fairly sure she was one of those people. Still, she hadn’t said anything to you about it, so you figured she would probably just do it and then dismiss you to take care of herself.

After dinner, you all brought your dishes back to the bucket your delivery had arrived in and left it outside the door for the delivery person to retrieve. Usually all of you went back to your rooms after dinner, but tonight, as you were about to follow Jennie back into the room you now shared, Chaeyoung grabbed your hand.

You turned, your eyes following the hand clasped around yours to the determined gaze of the girl who owned it. Biting your lip, you nodded and followed her into her room instead. As you disappeared into Chaeyoung’s room, you didn’t notice Jennie watching you.

Even though you’d been living here for a few weeks now and had seen Chaeyoung’s room from the outside, you’d never set foot in it, since there hadn’t been a reason for you to up till today. As she shut the door behind you, you stood awkwardly, wringing your hands and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Chaeyoung, on the other hand, was way too excited to feel nervous, and giggled as she pulled your hands apart by grabbing one of your wrists. “Come on,” she beckoned, drawing you closer to her.

“How do you want me to do this?” you asked. Her excitement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but smile back at her. You were quickly learning that there was a part of you that loved to please others.

“How do you usually do it with unnie?” She responded with another question, and you blinked at her in surprise. Somehow, you’d been expecting her to already know what she wanted – after all, she was the one who’d been so enthusiastic about this.

“Uh, you remember that new chair that was delivered?” When she nodded, you continued, “She usually sits in it and, uh, it’s a special chair so I can rest under it…”

“Right,” Chaeyoung looked around her room thoughtfully, then frowned. “I don’t think I have anything that would serve the same function.”

“Oh, you don’t have to have anything like that,” you rushed to reassure her. “I mean, it’s not like there’s a chair in the studio or anything.”

“That’s true.” She perked up at that. “So how do you usually do it?”

“Well…” you knelt down and looked up at her. “Usually she stands over me, or if we’re at the studio she sits on the couch and I kneel in front of her.” Jennie had taken to the first position you’d shown her, even after you’d tried out all the different ones the Bureau had suggested to find the ones you liked best.

“Hmm,” Chaeyoung hummed. “This doesn’t seem that comfortable, though.”

Eventually, you managed to figure something out – you sat with your back against her bed, your head resting on the mattress, while she knelt on it, hovering over your face. As she looked down at you, sandwiched between her knees, she smirked, an expression that had you clenching involuntarily. This was new, you noted with some surprise.

“You ready?” she cooed, so like the sweet, thoughtful woman you’d gotten to know and like over the past two weeks, but also different somehow, confident and enticing. Entranced by this new side of her, you nodded, opening your mouth under her pussy.

“Good girl,” she praised, smiling down at you. She was holding her shirt up slightly so she could see your face more clearly, and she let out a sigh of relief as she relaxed her pelvic muscles, starting to pee. It missed your mouth at first, landing on your forehead, and she let out a giggled “Oops!” as she readjusted herself so that she was peeing into your mouth.

You’d offered to do what you did with Jennie to minimize mess, pressing your mouth to her, but she’d declined, and now you realized why. She enjoyed the visual of the urine descending the short distance from her pussy to your mouth, relished in the power to soak your whole face if she wanted. Your eyes were focused on her core, which was still gushing, but you could hear her sighs and whispered praises.

When the stream dwindled and eventually stopped, Chaeyoung sighed like she was disappointed – and she was. She’d been holding it for hours, since lunchtime, in anticipation for tonight, and it had been over so fast. This experience had been everything she’d dreamed it would be, and she was only sad that it had ended. She had no expectation that this would be anything other than a one-time thing, since the way she’d asked you, it had seemed like a research experience.

However, you weren’t done yet. There was still the cleanup process, so you lifted your hands to her bare hips and pulled her down gently onto your face. This time, she looked down at you with some surprise, and you returned her earlier smirk right before you dragged your tongue up her slit.

“Mmm, God,” she gasped, shuddering as you continued licking her clean. “What the hell are you doing?”

Now done, you licked your lips and grinned at her. “Cleanup,” you replied in a matter-of-factly tone. “I do it all the time for Jennie-unnie too.”

“No wonder she looks so pleased all the time now,” Chaeyoung grumbled jealously, and you giggled. It hadn’t escaped your notice while cleaning her that she was wet too, her slick possessing a markedly different flavor from her piss. You weren’t that naïve, and if she was amenable, you were more than happy to help her with that too.

After all, you had Rosé of Blackpink sitting on your face right now. Who were you to throw away such an opportunity?

“I want to please you too, unnie,” you cooed, batting your lashes at her. You were somewhat surprised at where all this bravado was coming from, but she seemed to enjoy it, so you were rolling with it too.

“Ugh, you’re so sweet, who taught you to say such sweet things?” she asked.

“I’m just being honest,” you responded coquettishly before sliding your tongue through her folds again.

Chaeyoung moaned, throwing her head back luxuriantly as she widened her stance to lower herself further down on your face. “Such a good girl,” she praised, starting to rock her hips back and forth, sliding herself over your tongue.

You’d never done this before, so your movements were a little clumsy, but your sheer enthusiasm more than made up for it, as you licked and sucked at her, letting her grind down on your face as she pleased.

“Stick your tongue out for me, sweetie,” she prompted, smiling down at you when you did. She fucked herself on your tongue, sliding along it until it bumped her clit, then sinking down on it. Your tongue was inside her now, and her clit bumped against your nose. All you could smell and taste was her, and when she looked down at you, she could only see your eyes since her pussy was firmly planted on the rest of your face.

“You look so pretty like that,” she said before continuing to fuck herself on your face, her movements growing faster and choppier as she chased her orgasm. Breathy moans and gasps spilled from her lips, increasing in volume and frequency as she grew closer. “Mmf, fuck, you’re so good at this,” she cried out a second before she ground herself down harder on your face, uncaring of your need to breathe as she came.

Her sloppy movements smeared her slick all over your face and in your mouth, and when she finally lifted herself off you, you took a deep breath before grinning cheekily up at her and making a show of licking your lips. “Did you enjoy that, unnie?” you asked, and she huffed out a breathless laugh as she shuffled out of that position straddling your face and lay back against her pillows.

“You know I did,” she teased. “Now come here, I want to return the favour,” she demanded.

Immediately, your head came up off the bed and you turned yourself around so you were kneeling on the ground, facing her. “Oh, uh, no, you don’t have to, I—”

She rolled her eyes. “Come here,” she ordered, holding her hand out to you, and you had no choice but to let her pull you close. She tugged so hard you ended up falling into the pillows next to her and knocking the wind out of your lungs. You squirmed around a little so that your head was resting on her shoulder as you looked up at her.

“If you don’t want me to, that’s fine, but I really want to,” she said in a low voice. “I want to see how wet you are from eating me out so good, Y/n-ie, and make you cum all over my fingers.”

Her words had you squirming, and you breathlessly agreed. She guided you into a kneeling position so that you were straddling her hips, then dipped her hand into your shorts, her fingers ghosting over your clit. At the same time, her other hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you down to her.

“Do you like that?” she whispered against your lips as you shuddered. No one else had ever touched you before, and all of this was new to you. You nodded silently, biting your lip to hold back a whimper.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me,” she praised as her fingers slipped into your panties. “And so wet,” she exclaimed with delight. Dipping her fingers into your folds to collect some slick, she then started circling around your clit with slippery fingers. In response, your head fell onto her shoulder as you held on to her tightly.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this,” she continued with her filthy litany as she started fucking you with her fingers, letting you grind your clit on the heel of her hand. You let out a moan as you rocked your hips, feeling everything get wetter as you grew more aroused.

“Unnie, please—” you whispered, not knowing exactly what you were asking for. She knew, though, and sped up the movements of her hand.

“Are you going to cum for me? That’s right, sweet thing, cum all over my hand like a good girl,” she purred. Helplessly, you pushed your clit further into her hand and ground it in, shuddering as you came like she asked you to. She continued to work you through your orgasm, only withdrawing when you grew too sensitive.

Seeing how shiny her fingers were from the thick coating of slick on them, you flushed, but she just winked at you as she popped them into her mouth. “Delicious,” she commented, smacking her lips.

You giggled, her nonchalant attitude making it less awkward than you’d imagined it would be after everything that had just transpired. “Likewise,” you murmured, ducking back in for another kiss.

After staying there for about ten more minutes, trading kisses and flirtatious remarks, you figured it was time to go back to Jennie’s room and you said as much, slipping out of Chaeyoung’s embrace and off the bed.

“All right,” she acquiesced when you told her, yawning as she lay back in her pillows. “It was a good time, though. Do you wanna do it again sometime?”

Your hand on the doorknob, you turned to wink at her. “Definitely,” you said before leaving the room.

Jennie was sitting on her bed, flipping through a magazine, when you entered, and she looked up to smile at you. “Did everything go okay?” she asked, her expression completely neutral. She knew, of course, what had just happened between the two of you. You’d been gone way too long to have just drank her piss, and the walls weren’t soundproof. She didn’t mind, but just wanted to make sure that you hadn’t been coerced into anything.

“Yeah,” you replied with a bright smile, putting her at ease.

“Good.” She stood up and started walking over to the chair. You were familiar enough with each other now that she didn’t need to say anything; you got it immediately, rushing over and kneeling on the ground to help her with her clothes, then maneuvering yourself under the chair. In light of your new experience with Chaeyoung, however, this act took a different light now.

You weren’t stupid or blind; you’d known all along that Jennie was gorgeous, and you’d been a fan of Blackpink for years before you came to live with them. You just hadn’t thought about this act in a sexual light because you knew that it wasn’t really sexual for Jennie, and you didn’t want to be that creepy weirdo. Plus, learning about the technicalities of it all in the Bureau for years kind of sucked all the joy out of it.

Jennie sat down on your face, wriggling slightly to get into the position that was the most comfortable for her. From her vantage point, the only part of your face she could see was your chin, and she wondered if this was how Chaeyoung had done it too. Not that it was any of her business, of course.

Your mouth stretched open under her, and she relaxed with a sigh, listening to the hissing sound of the pee leaving her body and the quiet noises of you swallowing. You usually held on to the edges of the seat, and today she stroked her fingers across yours. Taking the cue, you released the seat, letting her guide your hands to cling to her thighs instead.

When she was done, you licked her clean as usual, but this time you couldn’t stop thinking about how it had felt to eat Chaeyoung out until she came, and you found yourself getting a little cheeky, sliding your tongue along Jennie’s slit a little slower and deeper than usual, flicking her clit just once before you closed your mouth.

Jennie, however, didn’t seem to react, standing up looking completely composed and turning to smile down at you. You helped her fix her clothes then went to take a shower, washing Chaeyoung off your face.

Once you were gone, Jennie let out the breath she’d been holding in a long exhale, lying on the bed looking up at the ceiling. She was pretty sure that had been accidental, but boy had it felt good.

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

It was only a couple of nights later that Jennie took you to meet Kai. She figured there was no time like the present – plus, given her reaction to what was no doubt an accident on your part, Kai needed to take his conjugal duties more seriously.

Tonight, the three of you were in the private apartment he’d bought. He still lived with the rest of his members in their dorm, but most of them had investment properties. It was handy when they needed their own space, like tonight.

In all honesty though, you weren’t sure how you felt about Kai. Sure, he was handsome and famous and you’d been a little starstruck at first, but the way he was talking to you and looking at you was making you feel a little uncomfortable. It was difficult to put your finger on it, but when he looked at you, you wanted to curl up into a ball and hide. He was just asking way too many personal, intimate questions about your experience as Jennie’s recycler.

Now that dinner was over, you were all sitting in the living room, and you were seated next to Jennie on the couch, half-curled into her, automatically seeking her protection. She too had noticed that Kai was looking at you kind of strangely all through dinner, but didn’t know what was up with him.

“So, Y/n-ie…” he said, leaning forward. You turned from Jennie to face him. “Have you enjoyed being with my Jennie?”

You looked back towards Jennie uncertainly, slightly confused about what he was asking. “Uh, yeah,” you replied when you turned back to look at him. “Jennie-unnie’s been really nice, and the other Blackpink unnies have been nice too.”

“I’m sure they’ve been,” he brushed off your answer patronizingly, “but what I mean is, have you enjoyed being with her?”

Your eyes widened and you looked at Jennie again, this time begging her to intervene. Sensing your distress, she squeezed your leg. “Oppa, Y/n-ie doesn’t understand your question, and neither do I,” she said slightly sharply.

Instead of taking the warning, Kai laughed it off. “I’m just curious, you know?” he said with a shrug. “You can’t blame me. I bet she’s closer to you than I am.”

At your clear discomfort, Jennie changed the topic and Kai didn’t turn the conversation back around to you again, not wanting to jeopardize his chances of getting lucky tonight. Eventually, he invited Jennie to the bedroom with a flimsy excuse – “please come help me with something in the bedroom” – and you remained on the couch, reading the book you’d brought with you and listening to music with the noise-cancelling headphones Jennie had specifically gotten for you while they were occupied.

After they were done, Jennie came out of the room since she had to pee. (What? It’s good to pee after sex, okay?) Since Kai was still in the bedroom, she figured it would be comfortable enough to do it on the couch, and you easily acquiesced, getting into the position you both preferred.

This time, however, when you pressed your mouth to her, Kai’s cum dripped out, thick, salty and altogether unpleasant. You tried to school your features, but even though you hadn’t been together for that long you’d made up for that with the sheer amount of time you spent together each day, and Jennie caught the grimace in the instant before you hid it.

Still, she figured, she could talk to you about it later but right now she really had to pee, so she just started going in your mouth. You were pretty much an expert at this time, so you sucked it down without any problem, but because you really didn’t want Kai’s cum to be the taste lingering on your tongue later, you licked her clean perfunctorily, avoiding her slit as much as possible.

When you were done, you pulled away quickly, hiding your distaste – or so you thought – by smiling sweetly up at Jennie, the way you usually did. “All clean,” you chirped at her.

Attempting to hide her unease, she smiled back at you before heading back to the bedroom.

Kai was still lounging in bed, his arms folded behind his head as he smiled lazily at her. He was supremely confident of his own body – and, of course, why wouldn’t he be? He looked like an Adonis. “Come back to bed, sweetie.”

Jennie, of course, was more than happy to acquiesce. She lay back down next to him and let him cuddle her close, resting her head on his shoulder. “Jennie-yah… I want to ask you something.”

“Hmm?” she said, only half-paying attention. Her eyes were sliding shut.

“Is it nice to pee in someone else’s mouth?”

Opening her eyes, she adjusted her position to look him more fully in the eye. “Everyone keeps asking me that,” she muttered. “Is everyone really so curious about it?”

He shrugged, jostling her slightly. “It is a pretty big lifestyle change,” he pointed out.

“It’s all right, I guess.” For some reason, she didn’t feel entirely comfortable talking to him about it.

Bending to kiss her temple, he said, “I’m lucky to have you.”

Jennie smiled, bemused. “Not that I’m disagreeing, but why?” she asked lightly.

“Well, you’ll let me use her too, won’t you?”

She frowned, sitting up. “I’ll let you?”

“Yeah, I mean, you let Chaeyoung-ssi use her.” He still looked nonchalant about it, like he fully expected her to agree with him.

“Oppa, Y/n-ie was the one who agreed to that. I can ask her, if you really want to.”

To Jennie’s shock, he started looking really pouty and put out, like she’d done something to offend him. “Okay… yeah, will you please ask her for me?” he finally asked.

“All right,” she accepted, hoping that he would drop the topic. The atmosphere remained somewhat tense though, like he was still upset about it, and when she left with you, he was still sulking.

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

Jennie had worried that your experience with Kai might affect your relationship with her, especially after you’d seemed to reluctant to drink from her after she’d slept with him the other night. Thankfully, by the next morning you seemed to be back to normal, enthusiastic and conscientious when she had her morning piss.

She was so relieved (ha) that you weren’t mad at her, and so reluctant to say anything that might exacerbate the situation, that it wasn’t until almost a week later that Jennie tried to broach the topic of Kai’s request. She didn’t really want to, because it seemed like you weren’t the biggest fan of him, but she’d promised. She made sure to wait till it seemed like you were in a good mood, when the memory of Kai’s weirdness wasn’t quite so fresh in your mind.

You were already in bed when she brought it up, and she was sitting at the dresser applying her skincare. “Y/n-ah…” she started.

“Hmm?” You were starting to fall asleep, half-listening and half-floating in space.

“What do you think of Kai?”

Your eyes snapped open, suddenly awake. “He’s all right, I guess,” you said politely, not wanting to upset her.

“Okay,” she accepted, and you sat in silence for a moment longer. “Would you… be willing to lend him your mouth?” she finally asked.

Your immediate instinct was to reject the request – vehemently at that, while making a disgusted face, but the tentative expression on her face gave you pause. “Do you want me to?” you asked instead. You thought she might want you to do this as a favour for her even if you didn’t want to since Kai was her boyfriend, after all, and her approach to this might be different from how she’d treated Chaeyoung’s request.

“Well, he wanted me to ask, but I won’t force you,” she said carefully.

“But will it damage your relationship if I don’t?” You picked up easily on the silent tension. As much as you felt uncomfortable around Kai, he was Jennie’s boyfriend, and you didn’t want to sabotage it. If you had to, you supposed you could do it. Just once, as a favour.

Jennie, of course, understood immediately what you were trying to say. “That’s not your responsibility,” she said firmly. “If you don’t want to do it, it’s fine. I’m not going to force you or guilt you. Anything that happens to my relationship with Jongin-oppa is ours to deal with.”

After mulling over it for a moment, you gave her your answer. “Then I don’t want to,” you said, shrugging. “Sorry, unnie, but I don’t feel great about Jongin-ssi.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” she muttered. “He was kind of weird the other night. I’ll talk to him about it, and try to find out why.” He wasn’t usually like this around people, years of idol training and living with others giving him great people skills most of the time. A conversation seemed necessary if she was going to keep the both of you in her life.

With her skincare routine done by the end of the conversation, she got into bed next to you and turned out the lights.

“Good night, unnie,” you mumbled, squirming closer to her for cuddles, which she gladly gave you.

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

Since you had expressed discomfort about being around Kai, and she knew you being around would only make him more insistent on ‘trying you out’, as he put it, she decided to go on dates with him without bringing you. This decision had a few implications – first, you ended up spending a lot more time separately, which meant you were hanging out with the other girls a lot more; second, Jennie’s dates with Kai grew shorter than they had been before since now that she was used to peeing in your mouth, she never wanted to go anywhere else.

It was this combination of factors that led to a slight strain in your relationship with her. She didn’t want to say she was jealous, because she wasn’t. She was pleased that you were becoming close with the other girls, especially Chaeyoung. It just stung sometimes. Even when she was home, there were times when you would be hanging out with the others instead of her, and you were less clingy too. Some people might think that was a good thing, but in all honesty, she’d liked clingy.

As your relationship with the other girls – and your friends-with-benefits thing with Chaeyoung – flourished, it seemed like Jennie’s with Kai was headed in the opposite direction. Having to rush home after sex because she didn’t want to use his toilet was becoming somewhat of a sore point, especially since she refused to bring you to their dates. He’d also thrown a fit when she told him you didn’t want to drink him, and it had led to one of their only fights throughout the entire duration of their relationship.

“Hey, did you ask Y/n yet?” he’d prompted almost the second she got into his car.

Jennie looked at him askance. The most perfunctory greeting kiss ever, and now this? What was with this obsession? “Yeah, she didn’t seem into it,” she said vaguely, hoping that he would take the hint and drop it.

“What?!” he exclaimed instead, sounding furious. Jennie sighed. Okay, it seemed they weren’t going to go the chill, reasonable route.

Turning to look at him, she said, “She doesn’t have to, you know.” Truth be told, she was kind of put off by his attitude. Ever since he’d met you, he’d been acting like this was owed to him. Just because she had a recycler didn’t mean she was obliged to share it with anyone.

“Yeah, but you let Chaeyoung-ssi use it,” he pointed out. “I’m your boyfriend; shouldn’t I get the same rights?”

She raised a brow. “Rights?” she asked. “Chaeyoung doesn’t have a right to use Y/n’s mouth as she pleases, you know. Y/n is very much a willing participant,” she said, slightly bitterly. Okay, maybe she was slightly put out by your blossoming relationship with her dongsaeng.

“You know what I mean,” he grumbled. “You could just make her do it.”

“Make her? I don’t make my recycler do anything she wants to do. She’s not my slave,” Jennie pointed out.

“That’s not what I meant! You’re always twisting my words!”

Needless to say, that night had not gone well. Kai was still slightly sulky about it, sometimes making snide remarks about you. Truth be told, this side of him was not one she’d seen before, and she didn’t like it. Even though recycler rights were sometimes controversial, among their circles most people agreed that recyclers deserved the same rights of freedom of choice as the general population. Kai’s revelation that he was apparently not one of them was turning out to be a problem, because she now felt responsible for protecting you from him.

She hoped that tonight’s date would go better, since they’d declared a moratorium on talking about you. All day, though, she’d had to endure the giggles and sidelong glances you’d shared with Chaeyoung, and she was pretty sure you were going to be up to no good while she was gone.

She was right. You saw her off graciously as always, giving her a hug at the front door and telling her you hoped she had a good time with Kai tonight, and that you would be waiting for her. The moment she left, though, you ran through the apartment straight into Chaeyoung’s room.

“Unnie!” you cried excitedly, throwing yourself on the bed so enthusiastically that you bounced.

Chaeyoung smiled at you. You weren’t dating, but you weren’t quite friends either, and she’d definitely grown very fond of you (and your mouth) over the couple of months that you’d been living in the dorm with her. Whenever Jennie was out without you, you’d come hang out with her, and by this point you had a pretty nice routine: you’d get delivery, then maybe watch a movie with the others before retiring back to her bedroom.

Tonight wasn’t any different, and you found yourself in the living room, eating fried chicken with the others while watching a movie. Chaeyoung was drinking a lot more water than usual, looking meaningfully over at you every time she reached for her glass. You knew this was in preparation for later, so you winked back at her every time.

All this flirting wasn’t lost on Lisa and Jisoo, and by the time the movie ended, the two of them grumbled good-naturedly about how they didn’t need to see all of this as they went back to their bedrooms. You and Chaeyoung giggled together as you bade them good night, knowing that they didn’t really mind it and were just teasing.

Once you were alone, Chaeyoung immediately took your hand and pulled you closer to her, going in for a kiss as your bodies collided. You slid your hands along her hips, groping her ass shamelessly.

“Mmm, we should probably take this back to my room before we get in trouble again for leaving fluids all over the living room,” she breathed against your lips. You couldn’t agree more and let her drag you into her room by your hand.

“Strip,” she ordered once the door was shut, already following her own instructions. You laughed at her enthusiasm even though you knew you would pay for it later, pulling your shirt over your head and shucking your shorts and underwear in one fell swoop. She did the same, and almost lunged for you.

“A little eager, aren’t we?” you teased even as you lay back on the bed.

“Shut up,” she growled. “I have to pee so bad, you don’t even know.”

“You were the one drinking all that water earlier,” you pointed out as she straddled your face. She was facing your body, so your face was basically in her butt. Not that you minded. It was a very pretty butt indeed. You wanted to squeeze it some more, but she was kneeling so that her legs were resting on your shoulders, restricting your movement.

“Don’t act like you don’t love drinking my piss,” she said, sounding strained as she looked down at you between her legs.

You winked at her from the gap between her thighs. “How could I even pretend? You’re so thoughtful, making all that delicious piss for me…” you breathed, a moment before she started peeing.

The first bit of it missed and glanced off your cheek, but you knew now that it was intentional. She loved watching the way her stream found its way into your mouth after first landing on your face somewhere, and you didn’t really mind either. The stream of dirty talk that she kept up the whole time was getting to you, and even as you gulped down her piss, your hips were rocking into the mattress slightly, seeking out that little bit of stimulation.

Chaeyoung noticed and leaned forward to pull your legs apart, which caused her pee to splash against your forehead instead. You made a noise of protest and she readjusted with a giggle, sinking a little lower so that her pussy was closer to your face.

“Mmm, it feels so good to pee for you, sweetie,” Chaeyoung groaned as the last of her urine dripped out.

“I’m glad you enjoy it, unnie,” you giggled. She widened her stance further to lower her pussy to you, and you eagerly started lapping at it. Meanwhile, she was holding your legs open and licked a broad stripe down your slit, from your clit to your tight, clenching hole.

“Mmf—” you let out a muffled groan into her slick flesh. She’d never done this before, and you were a huge fan. No wonder she got so crazy when you’d licked her for the first time.

You were busily eating each other to orgasm when the door swung open without any warning. At first, neither of you paid any heed, until you heard the disgusted exclamation coming from the entrance.

“My God!” Jennie cried out as she opened Chaeyoung’s bedroom door, only to come face to face with a more direct view of her member’s asshole than she’d ever wanted to see. Taking a step back, she turned away. “Y/n-ah, can you come here for a second?” she asked, directing her question at the hallway.

Now aggravated beyond all bearing, you groaned. “Unnie, can this please wait?” Not only were you busy, you really didn’t want to stop what you were doing right now to eat Kai’s creampie.

“No, it can’t,” she snapped, irritated. She’d been holding it since she left, and she needed to pee now. And how dare you talk back to her like that, anyway? Had you forgotten why you were even here to begin with?

“Fine,” you capitulated, sensing that this wasn’t the hill to die on. “Give me a minute, I’ll meet you in your room.”

With that, Jennie stalked off, and you sighed, tapping Chaeyoung’s hip to make her get off. “Sorry, unnie,” you apologized as you got up and started putting your clothes back on.

“It’s all right,” she excused graciously. “She seemed like she was in a mood, though. We might need to take a rain check.”

You pouted back at her as you started walking backwards towards the open door. “I don’t wanna,” you whined. “I’ll be right back?”

“Okay,” she chuckled, and you were on your way.

You arrived in the room you shared with Jennie to see her already pacing impatiently in front of the chair. “Hey, unnie,” you greeted as you sank to your knees to help her strip. You were obviously distracted and in a rush to get back to Chaeyoung, and moved quickly to get under the chair.

As Jennie sat down slowly, she caught a glimpse of your grimace, and anger flared through her, but first she needed to take care of her needs. Perhaps pettily, she sat without care and started peeing even before she was sure that you were in position, causing you to have to squirm under her to prevent a huge mess.

When she was done, you licked her clean as quickly as you could, and she felt a stab of irritation – she refused to acknowledge it as jealousy – that you could eat Chaeyoung out so enthusiastically but were now so reluctant to even clean her up. She stood up and scowled down at you as you got out from under the chair.

“What’s wrong with you today?” she asked snippily. Perhaps not the best way to start this conversation, but she was too angry to care.

You looked up at her in surprise. “Nothing, why?” you asked. If anything, you thought, you should be the one who was annoyed. You didn’t know what it was, but she’d been so eager that she’d started even before you were in the right position, and there was urine all over your face and neck, some even dripping into your hair.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you giving me an attitude,” she accused. “Every time I come back from Kai’s you act like this. I’m sorry if you dislike my boyfriend—” her tone of voice was most decidedly not sorry “—but you’re being so unreasonable! What are you, jealous?”

Your temper flared for the first time since you’d been living here. “Jealous?!” you scoffed. “Of your relationship with that ignorant manchild? I don’t think so. Sorry,” you sneered, turning it back onto her, “that I don’t like to eat Kai’s cum out of your pussy every time you fuck him. I’m your recycler, but I don’t need to be treated like that.”

With that, you stormed off to wash her piss off your face and body from where it had trickled before you’d managed to get your mouth firmly over her. Jennie, on the other hand, lay on the bed, feeling incredibly guilty for blowing up at you just now. She hoped you’d come back soon so that she could have a proper conversation with you about just now.

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

You ended up spending the whole night with Chaeyoung. Even though you weren’t exactly in the mood to continue your exploits with her after your fight with Jennie, she was happy to welcome you into her room and gave you lots of cuddles, letting you rant patiently until you wore yourself out and fell asleep.

In the morning, you were still reluctant to leave the room and face Jennie, preferring to continue sulking in Chaeyoung’s bed. Unfortunately, nature called, and she dragged you out of the room for breakfast. You were surprised to see that Jennie was already in the living room, and when she saw you walking out, she immediately stood up and called your name. “Y/n, can we talk?”

Not in the mood to be reamed out again first thing in the morning, you responded coolly. “I’m hungry, can this wait until after breakfast?”

Chaeyoung, standing behind you, nudged you. She could see in Jennie’s expression and body language how much the fight with her recycler had bothered her and felt kind of bad for her even though she did think that Jennie had been out of line in what she’d said to you last night.

“Fine,” you grumbled.

“Thank you,” Jennie said quietly before turning and walking into her room. You followed, closing the door behind you but standing right in front of it.

“Y/n-ie, please,” Jennie pouted at you, patting the bed next to her. Obviously, you couldn’t resist that look, so with a put-upon sigh, you crossed the room to sit next to her.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she said. The unexpected apology threw you for a loop, and you blinked at her, speechless. “I shouldn’t have said those things and accused you. That was rude of me.”

“Uhh…” you managed to get out, sounding, of course, like the most articulate genius who had ever roamed this earth.

“And I’m sorry for getting in the way of your, um… relations with Chaeng. I should have been more respectful, and I support your relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship,” you murmured. It was the only thing your mind could focus on at the moment.

“You’re not?” Jennie blinked.

“No, we’re just, um… friends with benefits, I guess,” you clarified.

“Oh.” Then, after a beat of silence, “Well, it’s none of my business anyway. I just want you to know that I think you deserve your privacy, and I was really rude last night.”

Feeling bad now, you reached over to take her hand. “Unnie, don’t say that. Of course it’s your business. You’re still my donator and I want us to be close too. I promise to be more open about it with you, okay?”

She made a face. “Not that open, I hope. I’m still traumatized from seeing Chaeng naked.”

You giggled. “You’ve lived together for years! You don’t mean to tell me you’ve never seen her naked before?”

“I never had to stare straight up her asshole before,” Jennie countered, causing the both of you to erupt in fits of laughter.

“Duly noted,” you conceded past giggles. “You seemed like you were in a bad mood last night too, unnie. Is everything going okay with you and Kai?” you asked with some concern.

She made a face. “It’s okay. He’s just having trouble adjusting to me having a recycler,” she explained. Last night they’d gotten into yet another argument over you – specifically, over her refusal to simply command you to get on your knees and drink his piss just because he wanted it. She didn’t quite understand why it was so hard for him to accept that you were a person, and she wasn’t about to force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.

Almost against her will, she started comparing Kai to you, even though she knew that was an unwise idea that was sure to have no good consequences. You, who was always there for her with your big eyes and big smile and a hug every time she felt bad, who knew the best and worst parts of her and didn’t shy away. It was unreasonable for her to expect the same of Kai, who was busy all the time with his own career and who obviously wasn’t as comfortable with her body as you were.

“I’m sorry I’m causing problems in your relationship, unnie,” you said, your eyes filled with remorse.

“No, it’s not your fault,” she rushed to assure you, pulling you into a hug. “He’s just being a dick right now.”

“I’m sorry for being mean last night too, unnie,” you apologized, looking at her with those wide, sad eyes that she couldn’t resist.

“It’s okay, baby, and I’m sorry I didn’t realize how unpleasant that whole experience was for you,” she said, making a little face. It hadn’t even occurred to her, but now that she thought about it, she realized how it would have been pretty gross for you, especially if you didn’t particularly like Kai. “I’ll talk to him about it to figure something out, okay?”

Your face was buried in her neck, but she felt your nod anyway.

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

Perhaps she should have expected that the demise of her relationship would come soon after she started comparing you with Kai in her head. After all, there was no way he could have won that competition, even if he’d been the nicest man alive – which he definitely wasn’t.

Still, she hadn’t expected her relationship to end quite so soon and so abruptly. Sitting in the driver’s seat of her car in the basement carpark of Kai’s private apartment, she was crying too hard to be able to drive safely.

The night had started relatively well – Kai was on his best behavior after their fight the other night, and they’d had a nice dinner together. After that, however, when they retired to the bedroom, was when things started going downhill. Out of consideration to you, Jennie had brought a box of condoms that she tried to convince Kai to use, and he didn’t take it well, to say the least.

“What is this? Are you accusing me of something? We haven’t used condoms in months!” he said irritably, knocking the box out of her hands.

“Oppa, please, it’s not like that!” she pleaded.

“Then what is it? Are you off birth control?” he demanded.

“No… the IUD is still in,” she said meekly. YG had made them all get them before debut so that they wouldn’t accidentally get pregnant, even if they were having secret relationships.

“Then tell me why!”

“Why does there have to be a reason?! Isn’t it enough that I want you to use them? It’s my body too!” she yelled, getting defensive.

“I’m not saying no, I just want to know why!” he rebutted.

“Fine,” she said, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Y/n doesn’t like it when you leave your load inside me. It drips out after and she doesn’t like how it tastes.” She’d been hoping that the explanation would be enough, and they could get on with their night, but he grew even more angry at hearing the reason.

“Y/n?!” He exploded. “Who the fuck cares what she thinks? She’s your recycler, for God’s sake, not your girlfriend!”

“Oppa, please, she’s still my responsibility and we’re going to be together for a long time! I just don’t want to make her upset!”

“No, you don’t, so you’d rather sacrifice our relationship!”

“Our relationship? Oppa, please be reasonable, it’s just one little thing!”

He stopped short and looked at her somberly. “It’s not,” he told her. “You’re literally putting your recycler above me, above our relationship. You think her happiness is more important than mine.”

“It’s not! Oppa, please!” she begged, tears in her eyes.

“If you insist on the condoms… we’re over, Jennie-yah. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t prioritize me in her life.”

The ultimatum took her aback, and she stared at him with wide eyes for a minute, silently begging him to take it back, to explain that he’d just said that in the heat of the moment, and he didn’t actually want to end their relationship. But he didn’t, sitting down heavily on the bed instead and looking away from her.

Sadly, she began to collect her things from the room. “I didn’t want it to end like this, oppa,” she said softly.

“I know.” That was the last thing he said before she left.

With her vision still blurry from the tears, Jennie fumbled in her bag in the passenger seat to get her phone. She needed to hear your voice.

“Hello?” You picked up almost immediately, having had your phone next to you while you ate with Chaeyoung and Jisoo. Lisa was at the studio again practicing for a dance shoot. “Unnie? What’s up?”

Jennie sniffled. Hearing that, your mind shot into overdrive. “Unnie? Are you okay? Are you crying? Where are you?”

Right. Words were necessary. “We broke up,” was all she could say, though.

It was enough. You stood up so quickly that both Jisoo and Chaeyoung looked over with concern. “What? Are you still at his place?”

Jennie nodded, then realized you couldn’t see it. “Carpark,” she confirmed. “Can’t drive.”

“Okay, you just wait there, okay, unnie? We’ll come get you,” you assured her.

“Okay,” she sniffled, but didn’t want to hang up. “Y/n-ie? Can you stay on the phone?”

“Of course,” you promised. “Just give me a sec, okay?” She put the phone down and quickly explained what was going on to Jisoo and Chaeyoung, then the three of them got up and drove over to Kai’s apartment complex. On the way, you stayed on the phone with Jennie, continuing to talk to her about nothing while she just listened, letting you distract her.

You had some trouble with the security at the building, since of course they weren’t about to let some random people into the apartment complex, but since both Chaeyoung and Jisoo were in the car, they figured nothing bad could happen and finally let you in after you promised that you were just there to pick up someone.

It wasn’t difficult to spot Jennie’s car in the parking lot, since it was fairly empty, and you got out of the car and sprinted to her, pulling open the door on the driver’s side and peering in. Jennie was hunched forward, her hands grasping the top of the steering wheel and her forehead resting on her hands, and she turned to look up at you when she heard the door open.

“Y/n-ie—” she managed to get out, before bursting into tears again.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you soothed, leaning in to give her an awkward hug and stroking her back. “Let’s get into the backseat, okay? Jisoo-unnie can drive your car home.”

Sniffling, Jennie nodded, climbing out of the driver’s seat and into the back. You followed after her, shutting the door, and Jennie immediately lay down with her head in your lap.

As you stroked her hair, Jisoo got into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine, starting the drive home. Chaeyoung followed in her own car.

Jennie continued crying for a while, then seemed to fall into a light doze while you draped your arm around her. You had to wake her up to get her back into the apartment, but you hadn’t let go of her the entire time, offering support and physical comfort where words failed you.

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

Over the next few days, all the girls seemed to coalesce around Jennie, giving her hugs and making sure she was eating and drinking. The difficult part about being an idol was that even though she felt like shit about her breakup, she still had to go to fan meetings, interviews and events, acting like she was happy and chipper and that nothing was wrong.

It was during those times that she sought your support the most. You were always there in the wings or in the audience, milling around with the staff and sending her encouraging smiles and gestures whenever you saw her looking at you. During breaks and between commitments, you would always be by her side, holding her hand or giving her cute hugs and telling her what a great job she was doing.

Even as time passed and she started to get better, she continued to rely on your encouragement, which you eagerly gave. Your relationship grew closer than ever, and Jennie would have been pleased if she hadn’t been so confused. She’d initially wanted a recycler for the sisterly relationship she thought she could foster, but even though you were doing all the things she’d expected and hoped for, she didn’t think of you as a sister.

Instead, she found herself looking at you while you were doing other things, admiring the way your lashes rested against your cheekbones and the focused furrow of your brow. The times of day when she would seek you out because she had to pee became her favourite, purely because she had your entire attention.

Okay, that was a lie. She was starting to love the inherent eroticism of the act, even though that had never been something she’d considered before. The feeling of your lips caressing her slit, your eyes looking up at her with such joy and devotion even as she was peeing in your mouth, the conscientious way you always licked her clean after… she hoped you weren’t noticing the way she would bite her lip when she felt your ministrations on her.

Once, on a really hard day when she’d been at an awards show that included EXO, you’d been extra sweet to her when she decided she couldn’t take it and excused herself to go to the restroom. You’d found her in a deserted corridor, pacing around with her hands on her hips.

“Unnie?” you called, skipping over to her. “You okay?”

“Oh,” she relaxed as she looked up and saw you. “Yeah, I’m fine, sweetie. Just a little stressed out from everything.”

Reaching her, you gave her a hug that she gratefully sank into. “I’m sorry, unnie. Just a little longer, okay? Fighting!”

Pulling back to look her in the face, you were surprised when she instead leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re always so good to me, Y/n-ie.”

You giggled bashfully. “It’s the least I could do, unnie. You’re always so thoughtful of me! I just want to make you happy too.”

Your cuteness made her want to hug you more tightly, but the urgent needs of her body had to take precedence for now. She let you go and pulled back, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Stress drinking water was really not the way to go when at an awards show, she admonished herself.

“You look like you’re in a bit of a state there, unnie,” you teased even as you dropped to your knees in front of her.

“Oh, shut up,” she groaned, leaning against the wall and throwing her head back as you pulled her panties and safety shorts down. The short dress she was wearing may look impractical, but it was actually immensely helpful for situations such as this.

“It’s okay, unnie,” you soothed as you stroked her hip, shuffling closer. “I’ve got you,” you said right before pressing your lips to her pussy, your mouth open to catch her urine.

The feeling of your soft, warm lips on her pussy and the tender, reassuring words you said right before you put them there was almost too much for Jennie, and she had to close her eyes to regain composure before she did something ridiculous like try to grind her clit against your face. Focus, she reminded herself sternly. She wasn’t going to be one of those donators who exploited her recycler, someone who was in a position completely dependent on her.

By this point, peeing in your mouth was as natural to Jennie as using a toilet had been in the past, and it didn’t take any effort at all for her to start the stream. She let out a big sigh of relief as pee started jetting out of her. She’d really had to go, and the feeling of letting it out was almost euphoric, making her shudder with how good it felt.

Your gaze drifted up to her face, her brow slightly furrowed and her mouth open as she continued peeing in your mouth. You were gulping it down as quickly as possible, trying desperately to keep up with her stream, but you couldn’t help but notice how sexy she looked like that. You could almost imagine her making that face for a different reason, and slightly embarrassed at the direction that your thoughts had taken, you lowered your gaze once again.

As you did so, Jennie opened her eyes and looked down at you, struck by the view. You looked completely focused on your task of drinking the pee she’d held in her body for so many hours. Was there a purer expression of devotion, of care, than this? The last of her pee drained out of her into your mouth, and you smiled up at her before licking her clean.

This time, you took extra care to get every bit, swirling your tongue gently as you lapped at her core. When you were done, you pressed tender, wet kisses to either side of her, then one directly over her clit, gazing up at her as you did so. She definitely deserved a little bit more love today. Kai had been staring at her the entire time, and you knew she was stressed.

When you were done, you helped her back into her clothes silently. “Shall we head back, unnie?” you asked with a smile.

“You go ahead,” she demurred. “I need a minute before I can go back in there.” She intentionally phrased it so you’d think she was talking about Kai, and you squeezed her arm sympathetically before leaving her, licking your lips clean as you went.

When she thought about what she’d done next instead, she still flushed. Instead of cooling off, she all but ran into the restroom down the hall, a room she’d honestly thought she’d never have to set foot in again, and had her hand in her panties the moment the stall door clanged shut. With one hand frigging herself desperately and the other covering her mouth to make sure no errant noises escaped, she brought herself to a hasty, unfulfilling orgasm. It didn’t matter, though. It was enough to cool her blood for the time being.

After washing her hands and cleaning up, Jennie returned to the awards ceremony, where Jisoo immediately draped an arm around her shoulders and started stroking her hair comfortingly. You must have told the other girls that she’d been having a hard time with Kai here, she thought. She appreciated your concern, but it really made things all the more awkward for her when instead of freaking out about it, she’d been off masturbating to the thought of you drinking her piss and eating her out.

The situation eventually grew more serious, to the point that Jennie was sure she was doing a piss-poor (ha) job at keeping it a secret. How was she supposed to get her head on straight when you literally had your mouth on her cunt multiple times every day?

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

You could, in fact, confirm that Jennie wasn’t keeping her growing attraction to you under wraps. It wasn’t her fault – she couldn’t exactly help the fact that she was often wet when you got on your knees from her. You could literally see the arousal shining on her pussy before she covered your face with it, and the way the slick smeared on your face was kind of a dead giveaway.

Still, you didn’t say or do anything because you didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, trusting that she would speak up if she wanted to. It would only make things awkward if you pushed her before she was ready. After all, if she turned you down or denied it, you’d still be stuck to her 24/7, for the foreseeable future.

No, it was better for things to remain the way things were, you determined.

Despite your better judgement, however, you were still a little shit at heart and took pleasure in riling Jennie up and possibly hinting to her that you’d be open to a development in your relationship. You were getting increasingly bold with the liberties you took under the guise of ‘cleaning her’, sometimes even giving her clit a naughty little suck just to ‘get it all out’, or sliding your tongue so deep along her slit that you could taste her arousal.

She never broke though, even though you could feel the minute movements sometimes as she rocked her hips slightly in response to your ministrations, and she often ran off right after getting up off your face, probably to masturbate somewhere. Every time she did, you’d sigh and lick your lips clean, wishing she would let you help with that too.

Chaeyoung, predictably enough, found the whole thing hilarious. Having a front-row seat to your mutual crushes on each other was seriously top-notch entertainment, she thought, especially since you were both so utterly oblivious about your feelings. As your feelings for Jennie grew, you stopped seeking Chaeyoung out for sex, and your relationship instead mellowed into a tightly knit friendship. There were no hard feelings on either side, since Chaeyoung had mostly been in it for the sex anyway. Being a gay idol was really hard, and you’d provided physical and emotional support for a period of time.

These days, you mostly hid in Chaeyoung’s bed to whine about Jennie and cuddled her when she felt like she would never find a girlfriend, given the restrictions on her life as long as she was an idol. Jennie, however, didn’t know that, and increasingly was filled with jealousy whenever you disappeared to look for Chaeyoung. Once, when she’d seen pictures of a wedding between two of her cheer teammates, you’d ended up spending the whole night with her as she cried.

Jennie tried to be understanding – she knew that she didn’t own you, and that Chaeyoung was clearly going through something. But she was going through something too, god dammit, and she wished you would cuddle her and kiss her forehead and tell her it was all going to be okay the way you did with Chaeyoung sometimes on the couch.

Well, it would be difficult for you to do that with her since her issue was that she was falling for you, but still.

Chaeyoung was fully aware of Jennie’s jealousy, too. It wasn’t like she was even trying to be subtle about it, looking over and sighing or pouting whenever she saw the two of you wrapped up cozily together.

Eventually, when it got boring for Chaeyoung to deal with the longing, sidelong glances and wistful sighs, she finally decided to talk to Jennie about you.

Predictably enough, Jennie was reluctant, but Chaeyoung had, by this point, had years of experience prying secrets out of her older member, and was now adept at it. Call her the Jennie whisperer, she thought to herself as she invited Jennie for coffee, just the two of them, like they’d used to as trainees when Lisa and Jisoo were off doing whatever it was the two of them did alone.

Sipping her iced coffee, Chaeyoung eyed Jennie, noting the sadness she thought she was hiding as she stirred the sugar into her drink. “Unnie, are you okay? You just seem really down lately,” she prompted the older girl.

Jennie looked up in surprise, then relaxed. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just Kai, y’know?”

“Unnie, that was months ago! What’s really bothering you?” Chaeyoung pressed.

Abruptly becoming defensive, Jennie’s shoulders drew up around her shoulders. “Nothing’s bothering me,” she said.

“All right,” Chaeyoung accepted, though it was clear from her raised brow that she didn’t believe her. “I’m glad we got to do this, unnie,” she continued with a smile. “We never get to spend time together anymore, just the two of us.”

“That’s true,” Jennie agreed. “We’re always so busy these days…”

“Yeah, and Y/n is always hanging around you too…”

It was like a cloud abruptly formed over Jennie’s head when she heard your name. “She’s not always hanging around me,” she muttered with some bitterness. Sometimes she was spending time with Chaeyoung, after all. It was just a little bit annoying for the person who’d been stealing time with her own recycler to be saying that.

“Unnie, come on! She never leaves your side,” Chaeyoung laughed. She was intentionally goading Jennie, but the older girl seemed to be falling for it hook, line and sinker without even realizing that she was being played.

“That is so not true,” Jennie huffed. Her jealousy got the better of her, and she snapped, “She’s always hanging around you these days.”

A beat of silence, then Chaeyoung said with delight, “Unnie, are you jealous?”

“What? N-no!” Jennie denied, flustered now. “Why would I be jealous? She’s just my recycler. She can sleep with whoever she wants.”

“Wait, who said anything about sleeping together? I thought we were talking about just hanging out.”

“We were, I mean—oh, fuck.” Caught red-handed, Jennie slumped miserably onto the table in front of her, hiding her face from her dongsaeng.

“You know, you should really just talk to her,” Chaeyoung said, uncaring of Jennie’s dramatics.

“I can’t,” Jennie protested, her voice muffled. “I have to be responsible for her. She’s going to think that I’m trying to pressure her.”

“Unless…” Chaeyoung trailed off, and Jennie raised her head to look at her.

“Unless?” she asked.

Chaeyoung winked. “Maybe she feels the same way about you.”

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

Now that Chaeyoung had planted that thought in her mind, Jennie couldn’t stop thinking about it. She saw hints of it in the way you happily ran to give her a hug when she came home, the way you snuggled up to her at night, and in all the thoughtful little gestures that showed how much attention you paid to her. You brought her snacks and water during her meets and shoots when they ran overtime, and always encouraged her during practice and recording sessions.

As much as she tried not to overthink it, it was impossible not to read into the little ways you made her feel special especially when you were drinking from her. The cozy way your face nestled into her ass when she sat on the chair, or the almost reverent, worshipful way you looked up at her when she stood over you, the way you licked her clean so slowly and thoroughly that there was no way you were oblivious to how wet she became, and those sweet, soft kisses you’d taken to littering on her pussy when you were done licking her.

There was no way you’d do all that unless you felt some type of way for her, right?

Despite Chaeyoung’s intervention and her own increasing desire for more between the two of you, it actually took a rather embarrassing mistake on her part to force her hand.

Since she’d broken up with Kai, she’d entered somewhat of a sex drought, which meant it was easier than ever for you to turn her on, something you took pleasure in doing, especially at home on days when she didn’t have any schedules. She knew this, and yet she could never bring herself to stop you by getting up before you were done ‘cleaning’ her, always hungry for more.

On this particular day, your face was under her on the chair when she made the mistake of looking down at you between her legs. She could only see the lower half of your face, of course, yet the sight of your tongue so eager to please was definitely her new kryptonite, she decided on the spot. As you licked a stripe from her clit to her asshole, she shuddered and let out a soft moan, rolling her hips slightly to get more friction.

A second later, she paused and stiffened, hoping that you hadn’t heard that.

Unfortunately, from your giggle, she knew that was not the case, and started to rise, intending to beat a hasty retreat. Before she could get up, however, your arms shot out, grabbing her by the hips. “Unnie,” you whined.

“Y-Y/n,” she stammered, trying harder to shake off your grasp and stand up. Eventually, you let her, but when she turned back to look at you, you were pouting up at her through the hole in the seat.

“Unnie, don’t you want me to finish?” you asked.

“You— I— what?” Reduced to stammering now, she started backing away from you, and you hastily got out from under the seat to sit on the ground.

“I mean, I knew that you were liking it more than you wanted to admit,” you told her, your eyes wide with sincerity. “I don’t mind helping you out, you know.”

“But… but Chaeyoung…” Jennie was grasping at straws now.

You shrugged. “We haven’t slept together in months, unnie. I want this,” you said, leaning forward. “If you’re okay with it, that is.”

“Wait… what is it you want exactly?” She didn’t think she could handle just being friends with benefits with you, even if her libido was screaming at her to take what she could get.

“I want to be your recycler… friend… girlfriend, if you want…?” You peeked up at her from under your lashes, nervous now from laying all your cards on the table.

“Really?” She knelt on the floor to look you in the eye properly. “You really want that? You’re not just saying it because you think I do?”

“You do?” Surprise coloured your tone. “I thought you were just horny after your breakup.”

Jennie flushed. “Well, I mean, there is that,” she coloured. “But no… I really do have feelings for you. It’s probably part of why my relationship with Jongin-oppa didn’t work out.”

You giggled. “Well, if you don’t mind… I’d love to give this a shot,” you confessed.

“I would love that too,” Jennie breathed, leaning in to kiss you, because she needed to occupy her mouth with something before she blurted out something stupid, like that she loved you.

To her surprise and displeasure, however, you leaned back when it became clear what she was trying to do. “Wait, wait! Don’t you want me to brush my teeth or something?” you asked, clapping a hand over your mouth.

She laughed. “I don’t care, silly,” she said, pulling you closer with a hand on the nape of your neck. With that out of the way, you eagerly draped your arms around her neck and pulled her close for a kiss. It was soft and sweet and everything you’d dreamed of with her… until she broke away to pull you to her bed.

“Moving a little fast there, aren’t you, unnie?” you giggled as she straddled you. She hadn’t put her clothes back on, so she was wearing only a shirt.

“You’ve been teasing me for months,” she complained as she leaned down to kiss you again, this one deeper and filthier, leaving you breathless.

“Fair enough,” you said, letting her pull your shirt off. You retaliated by stripping hers off too, and then she shuffled down to take care of your shorts and panties. “What do you want to do?”

She moved with a sense of purpose and drive that indicated she’d thought about this a lot, shuffling up to your face and straddling it, facing your body. Leaning forward, she pulled your legs apart and ran her fingers along your soaked slit before raising her fingers to her mouth. “I’ve wanted to do this since I saw Chaeng on top of you,” she growled before lowering her pussy to your face.

You ate her out ravenously, excited after all those months of stolen moments where you gradually pushed the limits to see where she would draw the line. You already knew how she tasted, but you wanted her to use you for her pleasure, grind on your face and moan and scream when you made her feel good.

Diligently, you lapped at her clit, experimenting with different strokes and speeds until you found one that seemed to make her go crazy. She dropped her head, pressing her cheek to your thigh for a few seconds before regaining composure and redoubling her efforts to make you cum. Of course, this was a competition she was bound to lose, since you’d had a head start earlier.

“Unnie, your cunt tastes so good,” you moaned into her core between the sucking and licking. “Your piss is so fucking tasty too, I love it.”

Your nasty words spurred her on, and she ground her pussy against your face, groaning at the stimulation on her clit. “Fuck, you feel so good,” she huffed, forgetting about your pleasure as she chased her own relentlessly. “Such a nasty little slut for me, aren’t you?”

Since it didn’t seem like she had the bandwidth to, you took over stimulating yourself, rubbing at your clit with your fingers. “Yeah, I’m your dirty slut, unnie,” you gasped, before sucking her clit into your mouth and flicking it with your tongue repeatedly. The movement sent her stratospheric and she cried out as she came, gushing cream straight into your mouth.

“Oh, God,” she exhaled shakily when it was over, lifting herself off your face. “You’re such a good girl,” she praised, her fingers sliding along your cunt again and knocking your hand out of the way as she began fingering you in earnest, wanting to pay you back for the orgasm you’d just gifted her.

“Ah, unnie,” you moaned, your hips rising off the bed as you chased her touch. “That feels so good, yes, yes—” Your eyes closed, and you gasped, small, choked cries leaving your mouth as you came, clenching down on her fingers. She worked you diligently through it, only pulling her hand away when you started to make small noises of pain as overstimulation set in.

“That was so good, unnie,” you said in a soft, tired voice as she collapsed on the bed next to you. Pulling her close, you nuzzled your nose against hers.

“Likewise,” she smiled before her lips met yours in a kiss, this one chaste and sweet after your mutual lust had been slaked.

“Thank you for giving us a shot,” you murmured, closing your eyes in contentment.

“No,” she corrected you, wrapping her arms around you. “Thank you for being mine.”

You knew what she meant, and your lips lifted in a small smile. You would always be hers, and she would never forget to appreciate it. Neither of you were willing to call it love yet, but you knew that would come. There was no rush – you were her recycler, you’d always be together.

#kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #blackpink smut #blackpink scenarios #girl group scenarios #jennie smut #rose smut

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heyheydidjaknow · 3 years

Text

Can I have a lighthearted chapter? No, I cannot. Can I upload at the due date? Also no. But you can always count on me to make characters suffer. I would say that I'm sorry, but then I would be a liar.

Chapter 8

“Will you shut up?”

Donatello looks up from his computer. “Huh?”

Raphael’s eyes do not leave his magazine. “You’ve been muttering under your breath for the past hour and it’s starting to get on my nerves.”

“You’ll live.”

“You won’t for long if you don’t cut that shit out.”

He sighs. “Are you ever content with just leaving me be?”

“As your brother? No.” He sets the article down. “You’ve been acting weird all week. Usually, I could not care less, but you wreck enough shit without the added benefit of being distracted.”

He looks back at the screen. “So, I’m a ticking time bomb to you?”

“Yes.”

He looks back at the screen as he tries to think of how to answer. “It’s just that…”

“Oh, wait, don’t tell me.” He smirks. “You’re all depressed because your girlfriend has a life.”

He goes red. “I don’t care if—she’s not my girlfriend, first of all.” His voice rises.

“Sure, sure.” He stretches. “You know, typically, girls aren’t into guys who obsess over them.”

“Look, I’m worried about her!” He sets the computer down.

He blinks. “Why?”

“Are you kidding?” He throws his hands up in exasperation. “She killed a man!”

“Yeah,” he nods, “and I’m pissed I wasn’t the one to do it. What’s your point?”

“True,” he smiles cooly. “What you fail to consider, however, is that the rest of us aren’t psychotic.”

“I’m hurt.” He places his hand on his chest. “I will have you know that I’m definitely sane.”

“See, this is why nobody comes to you about their problems.” He leans his head back. “You ask why I’m down, and you immediately give me a hard time.”

They both turn their heads toward the entrance as their two other brothers walk back into the lair.

“How’d it go?” Raph gets up to meet them.

“You didn’t miss anything.” Leo sits down next to Donnie, glancing at his laptop before staring at the empty television screen. “Nobody was there.”

“Really?” Donnie’s eyes tear away from his computer screen. “Nobody?”

“Man, it was weird.” Michelangelo stays standing. “It was, like, two bots and then nothin’.”

“That is incredibly suspicious.” The tallest brother saves his work. “You used the stuff, right?”

“Worked like a charm.” Leonardo stretches. “So, what’d we miss?”

“Donnie bitching about not talking to his girlfriend for a whole week.”

“Can it,” he hisses.

“Donnie,” his brother speaks from next to him, “I’m sure that Y/N is perfectly fine. If you’re worried about her, you can and should go check on her.”

He groans. “If it were that simple, I would’ve done that by now.” He holds his head. “But what would I even say?”

He sighs, “I’m not going to say the same thing every time.” He gets up. “Mikey, you try. I’m going to go meditate if anyone wants to join.”

“Hey!” Mikey sticks his tongue out at him. “How come I have to do it?”

“Because Raphael is as cuddly as an eel.”

Raph glares. “Do you wanna go right now?”

“See?” He walks off. “And I did it last time. Your turn.” They hear the doors to the dojo slide closed behind him.

Mikey sits down in Leo’s spot. “If you want,” he offers as his brother walks off to the dojo, “I can try talking to her.”

“Would you?” He sighs. “I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

“For sure, man.” He gives him a thumbs up. “What are brothers for?”

“If you don’t make him do things,” Raphael warns, “he’s never going to learn to do them.”

“Man, he’s our bro.” He wraps an arm around his neck. “You can’t just leave your bro out to dry.”

“The hell I can’t.” He gets to his feet. “You guys have fun with that. I’ll be in my room.” He walks off, taking his pet turtle with him.

“Don’t listen to him.” He shoots his brother a thumbs up. “I’m sure everything will work out.” Mikey hopped to his feet. “Be back in a bit.” He waved, running out of the lair. “I’ll be back in ten.”

The look on his face is less than reassuring.

“Well?” Donatello, who has been checking the time religiously, is sitting at the door like a dog waiting for his owner. “How did it go?”

He smiles tightly. “I have good news and bad news.”

He groans, holding his head in his hands. “Just tell me.”

“Well,” he says hesitantly, crouching down in front of him, “she’s not dead.”

“That isn’t exactly a high bar to hurdle.” He takes a deep breath. “What’s the bad news?”

He pauses. “She’s… freaked out.”

“On a scale of one to ten,” he asks slowly, “with one being—”

“Nine.” His younger brother nods certainly. “At least a nine.”

He stands up. “I should go check on her.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what to do.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I think I made things worse, actually.”

“What else is new?” He runs out. “Tell Leo I’m going out,” he calls over his shoulder. He does not wait for a reply.

He does not blame himself entirely for the events currently happening; he is well aware that her inclusion into their mess was not willed by him. However, a part of him can not shake the belief that he and his brothers have, by virtue of their lifestyle, caused her more pain than he had ever wanted. A part of him, still, believes that he or someone else should have bitten the bullet; of them, you should be the last person in line to murder.

‘I should’ve said something, done something.’

He lands down on your roof, starting to scale down the building. You have left your window open: he can see your floral curtains fluttering in the autumn breeze. Artificial light streams from your apartment as soft music plays from inside. He lands on your windowsill carefully, reaching in past the curtains to knock on your wall. “Y/N?”

He hears the music shut off the shuffling of bedsheets, three steps. You pull the curtain open.

You have not slept in a week. You have continued to go to school, scared as to what would happen if you did not, but you have not eaten or drank in a while either; more accurately, nothing has stayed down. You have contributed these things, easily, to the newly introduced variety in your nightmares. You wonder, now, if seeing his body would have been such a bad thing; your head has conjured up every possible position he might have fallen in, anyhow. At least, if you knew, you would only have one image torturing you as opposed to the seemingly different variations your head could come up with.

Donnie is not a psychologist. He has never been able to fully grasp the subject as much as the others in the scientific field; all of medicine, for that matter, has, regrettably, been hard for him to wrap his head around, what with how different he and his brother are from humans, physiologically. His master was the closest he had to an actual human until you had shown up, but he was hardly exemplary of your typical human. However, be it by what knowledge he does have or by the way you hold yourself, he can easily tell you are off. The color in your face is gone, the bags under your eyes larger than he has ever seen them on you, and every move seems oddly sluggish to him.

“Oh, hey.” You smile tiredly. “If you’re here about Michelangelo, he was just here a few minutes ago.”

“I’m not.” He climbs inside. “He got back to the lair ten or so minutes ago. Are you alright?”

Your eyes are flooded with black for a moment, a wave of numb pain and vertigo washing over you as you spread your stance slightly, not wanting to trip over your own feet. You hold your face in your hand as you steady yourself. “Totally.” You wince as you nodded. ‘Let’s not move our head more than we need to.’

Years of attentiveness and common sense tell him that you are blatantly lying. “What happened?”

“Huh?” You close your eyes. “Oh, nothin.” You take a couple steps back, slowly sitting back down on the bed, which was covered in packets. “Please,” you insist, “make yourself comfortable.”

He shuts the curtains, crouching down in front of you to look your features over more closely as he tries to identify what, exactly, is wrong with you. “Am I allowed to touch you?”

You look down at him from your seat. “I mean,” you sigh, “you _can_, if you want. Just not anywhere a general physician wouldn’t touch, alright?” You give him a half-hearted thumbs up. “I trust you to know where you can and can’t put your hands.” You highly doubt that he has any bad intentions, really, but you want to make your intentions clear.

“O-oh, of course,” he nods quickly. “I wouldn’t do anything you wouldn’t—well, not that you wouldn’t—” his face went red. “I-I mean—”

“Dude, relax.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Take a deep breath or I’m gonna the wrong idea.”

He does “S-sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck. “That was weird.”

“You’re all good.”

He presses the back of his hand against your forehead. “You don’t have a fever,” he notes, still red in the face. “Did you eat anything you normally wouldn’t?”

You give him a thumbs down. “I’ve only had soup. Do you want some?”

He blinks. “Soup?”

“Yeah.” You look back at the kitchen, where a pot of soup is sitting on the counter. “Ran out of leftovers a couple days ago.”

His eyes widen. “Days?”

You nod, wincing as you feel your brain pounding against your skull. “Yeah,” you sigh. “It’s been hard to keep things down. Glad I ran out, actually; I think I got a—”

He cuts you off. “How many days do you take between meals?”

You pause. “Now?” You shrug. “One meal every day or two.”

“Day or two?”

“Again,” you repeat, very confused as to why he looks as though he is about to have a heart attack right then and there, “it’s been hard keeping stuff down lately.”

“How are you not dead?”

You blink. “I beg your pardon?”

His voice rises as his speech sped up. “How many cups of that do you eat in a sitting?”

You sit up properly. “Maybe three or four and a couple pieces of toast?”

He looks about ready to pass out. “Are you insane,” he cries, an octave higher than usual.

You cover his mouth with your hand. “Shut up,” you hiss. “You’re gonna wake my neighbors up.”

He stops talking, grabbing your hand and pulling it off his mouth. He gets up, muttering something about being ridiculous as he pours you an unusually large bowl of soup and placing it in your lap. “Eat.” He stands there, glaring at you pointedly.

You are, admittedly, surprised by his icy, commanding tone. You do as instructed. “You act as though I’ve poisoned myself,” you point out between bites. “It won’t kill me, you know.”

“I’m not a licensed dietitian,” he informs you, clearly upset, “but the recommended caloric intake for a woman is approximately four thousand calories—”

“That’s wrong.” You are already halfway through the bowl. “It’s two.”

“Do you seriously want to get into a debate on something science-related right now?” You are genuinely scared by his expression; every word sounds oddly lethal, as if they themselves could kill you.

You swallow, standing your ground. “We can look it up, if you want,” you offer. “I know for a fact I’m… right…”

He has glared directly at you. It almost shuts you up.

You quietly eat the rest of the bowl. You set your spoon down with a gentle clatter, clearing your throat as you try to ignore the way he was staring at you as if he were trying to dissect you with his eyes. “Done.” You showed him the empty bowl.

“You genuinely see nothing wrong with your dietary choices?”

You shake your head, immediately regretting it. “I know it’s unhealthy, but not to the same degree you seem to think it is.”

“And you honestly believe that you only need to eat two thousand calories to be healthy?” His tone was softer now, likely in reaction to how quickly you had recoiled.

You nod hesitantly, ignoring the way your head pounds.

He pauses. “We’ll talk about that later,” he decides. “For now, I have to ask: why can’t you keep food down, exactly?”

You lean back, placing the bowl on the nightstand. You stay like that, closing your eyes. “I just keep seeing it,” you explain simply. “Hearing it, too; it’s kinda like tasting really bad and then having the aftertaste stuck on your tongue, but for memories. Or like doing something embarrassing and, every once and awhile, having something happen to remind you of it.”

“It? Oh.” As soon as he says the words out loud, he knows what you are referring to.

“Yup.” You pop the P. “I dunno if you knew, but it doesn’t splat.”

A heavy silence smothers you both, despite the sounds of the city.

You feel the bed shift. Your eyes glance over at the man lying next to you, hands folded across his stomach as he stares at the ceiling.

“I honestly don’t know what to say.” He sighs. "I wish I knew how to do right by you.”

“You don’t have to—”

He cuts you off. “I want to, though.” He rubs his face with his hand. “I want to be able to invent something that makes things easier for you, to keep you from getting hurt.”

“Dude, it’s fine.” You punch his arm lightly. “I’ll be fine, eventually. Just not right now.” You smile weakly. “But, hey? At least my dreams have a bit of variety, right?”

“Dreams?”

You chuckle tightly. “It turns out my head is rather creative when it comes to ways the body can bend. I almost wish I had seen the bodies; then they could all be consistent.”

He groans. “See, it’s stuff like that that makes me feel bad about not being able—not that it’s your fault,” he back peddles. “I just—”

“Stop stressing so much,” you cut him off. “That’s my job. Don’t put yourself into a tizzy on my account.”

“How could I not?” He threw his hands up in the air. “I care about you, Y/N. I’m obviously going to care if you’re alright.”

You pause. “My mental stability should be the least of your concerns right now, what with Shredder and all.” You close your eyes. “The only reason he hasn’t beaten you and your brothers within an inch of your lives is that I knew where he’d be when. All things considered,” you roll over to face him, “my having bad nightmares is a small price to pay.”

Another silence.

You sigh. “You should probably get going.” You pull yourself onto your elbows, leaning forward onto your knees. “I gotta stake out Shredder’s lair tomorrow so you guys know when to come in.”

He sits up next to you. “Y/N, I—”

“You should stop worrying so much, alright?” You smile gently. “I have some sleep meds if your dad needs them.”

He opens his mouth to say something, pauses, closes it again. “Alright.” He stands up. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“You didn’t.” He didn’t.

He stops in his tracks.

You rest your head on your legs. “Yeah?”

“Will we see you tomorrow?”

You purse your lips. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I’ll definitely call you, though; it’ll be something of a feat to hijack a hijacked chemical truck.”

He looks back at you. “Please, be safe.”

You nod.

“Eat, too.”

You nod again.

“And drink?”

You roll your eyes teasingly. “Yeah, Dad, I’ll eat.”

His face flushes again. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You got it, buddy.”

You look so small.

‘I did that.’

He climbs onto the windowsill, hesitating to leave. “Goodnight.”

You wave lazily. “Goodnight, Donatello.”

He climbs out of your apartment.

You wait a minute or two before you close and lock your window. You pull the curtains shut properly behind him, walking back to the kitchen to put the food away.

You sigh, doleful. “Sorry.”

You were maybe thirteen years old. It feels like longer, but you were most certainly in middle school

Driving home after school one day, you had stared out the window, the radio playing something you half paid attention to. You don’t remember, now, what prompted the conversation—you figure it was some sort of assembly you had mentioned—but, somehow, the question of what to do if you were tied up in the back of someone’s car had been brought up. This was not an unusual line of conversation, considering your family’s conviction that you would be kidnapped someday, but you remember it specifically because, after he brought it up, you had run the scenario over in your head what felt like a thousand times.

“It depends on where you are in the car,” he had said. “If you’re in the back seat, you have to reach forward and try to choke the driver out, if you can’t get the doors open.”

“And if I’m in the front?”

“Ram your body against his. Get a hold of the wheel and swerve the car.

The line of thinking had confused you. “But,” you countered, “then the car would crash; we would both get hurt.”

“You have a better chance of surviving a car crash than whatever would happen to you once you get to wherever you’re going.”

You two had not spoken for the rest of the drive.

Now, you stare ahead at the road, eyes occasionally glancing at the man in the driver’s seat as you try to come up with a plan. You wish, now, that you had gone with your initial instinct to call instead of sending Leonardo a text message; who knows when he will get it?

“I feel almost sorry for you,” the man sneers. “You would be better off getting killed in the explosion than what’s going to happen to you.”

You say nothing.

“Hey?” He barks out a laugh. “You’ll get to see what happens to them.” He sighs happily. “I can see it now. The smoke, the fire, the smell.”

You eye the door. ‘Locked. Shit.’

“Those freaks won’t know what hit them.” He leans forward, staring at the truck in front of them. “Shouldn’t have messed with us if they didn’t want to meet their maker.”

‘Could I even survive it?’

“You know somethin’, kid?” He grips the wheel tighter. “I gotta give ya some respect; not a ton of kids would’ve come this far. Personally,” he shrugs, “I would’ve killed you right then, but Shredder wants more out of ya, apparently.”

‘Would he?’ You shift your feet to your right.

“I’ll thank you for one thing, though; I was getting sick of that pompous asshole.”

‘I just gotta get his hands away from the wheel. There are people in the back of this van. They’d survive, right?’ You fight to keep your breathing steady.

“For someone who hangs with those freaks, you ain't slick, hangin on the street corner.”

‘They’re ninjas. I gotta believe they’d be fine.’ You shut your eyes, stealing yourself.

“How you got Bradford is be—hey!”

You slammed your torso against him, eyes squeezed shut.

“What are you, fucking suicidal?” He yelled, trying to push you off.

You pull away, slamming one foot against his cheek and stuck the other into the wheel. You hear honking as you desperately bang your foot into what you pray is his body. You feel the car speed up as he screams obscenities at you. You force the wheel away from you as hard as you can.

The next few moments are a blizzard of broken glass, voices, and blackness as the metal deathtrap tries to shake the life out of both of you.

You figure that you must have passed out a second, for the next thing you remember is the smell of gasoline.

Your eyes snap open. You look over at the man stuck half out the window. You reach back, trembling hands fumbling with the buckle strapping yourself in. You slam yourself against the front window as you hear it click open. You use your arms to pull yourself through the hole, the rope slicing against a stray piece of broken glass.

Your head is spinning. The only thought currently on your mind is to get away from the car.

For some reason, you find yourself unable to stand. You, instead, crawl, dragging your body desperately away from the wreckage. You do not feel yourself doing it, ignoring the glass shards sticking themselves into your palms and under your nails, the way they slashed into your stomach and sides as you drag yourself over them completely irrelevant as you claw towards the sidewalk.

You hear the explosion.

You pull yourself into an alley, waiting for the ringing in your ears to stop as you hear the conflict happening a few blocks down. You swallow your vomit as you stare forward blankly, the smell of smoke filling your nostrils.

Another.

You fall forward, tears filling your eyes as the pain settles in. You do not know what happened to your legs, only knowing for sure that they could not and would not support your weight. Every muscle and every tendon is vibrating. Your hair sticks to your body as your clothes soak in some sort of warm liquid.

You do not like that smell.

‘Why is everything spinning?’

You hear yelling, the screeching of wheels against asphalt.

‘I’m going to die.’

The sentence repeats in your head over and over again as you lay there in the alleyway.

‘I’m going to die here.’

You do not know why you are shaking right now.

‘I don’t want to die here. Not now.’

“Help,” you beg. “Please, God.” You feel a sob rise in your throat. “I don’t… wanna…”

You hear screaming.

“Help,” you breathe.

You black out.

Table of Contents

Chapter 7

Chapter 9

39 notes · View notes

jaehotbuns · 4 years

Text

high school

rating: pg - 13

word count: 7207

characters: you x mark

genre: university!au, best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst

song recommendation: high school - umi

summary: out of chance in your third year philosophy course, you reconnect with Mark Lee, your best friend and first love from high school who abruptly left after you two confessed to each other on your prom night. you both can’t help but fall for each other again but you can’t shake the thought out of your mind, why did he leave in the first place?

[tuesday, 4:29pm]

Your excitement for meeting new people at the beginning of your summer semester quickly diminished as you were grouped with the worst combination of people that you could have ever imagined. Usually you didn’t enjoy group work but when your professor announced that the 10% participation portion was to write a short summary of your group’s discussion on the week’s reading and lecture, you were looking forward to hopefully making new friends and an easy A. However, once the ball started rolling on the topic for this week’s topic, your group mates started to “debate.” You didn’t know how in any context where debating included two people not listening to each other and simply saying, “I understand but…” before continuing to ignore any counterpoints of the opposition and merely restating their stance.

While Haechan, the curly haired boy with a whiny voice was arguing with Yeri, the pretty well-dressed girl with the high-pitched voice, you slumped down into the study room’s uncomfortable faux leather swivel chairs and rested the side of your head on your hand which was supported by your elbow that was digging into the chair’s arm. Although the position was uncomfortable, at least it allowed you to direct one ear to the group and the other to the corner of the room to block out their constant bickering. You tried to interject so that you could get them to share their opinions civilly but they brushed off your attempts and continued to go at each other’s throats. So for about ten minutes you summarized their points in a Google document and your own, and then sat for the remaining time considering no one else had contributed in a thoughtful way.

As you looked down at your phone’s time, you noticed that the fourth member of your group was still missing. You were envious of them, at least they didn’t have to sit around and listen to a verbal fight on if human beings had consciousness or not and in turn if animals had consciousness if they weren’t able to speak. Your head turned to the side when you heard the soft click of the door closing after a tall slender boy stepped into the room with a four slot case of Starbucks iced coffees in his hand and a pile of textbooks in the other.

Haechan and Yeri didn’t notice him come in until he set the drinks down on the wooden circle table and started to speak, “sorry I was late.” He huffed as he settled down into another chair and set his belongings down on the floor, “the line for textbooks was crazy but I had to line up before they were sold out hahaha.” He laughed awkwardly as the two looked at him and shook their heads. “I got us all drinks to make up for it!”

It seemed like they knew him before as they muttered a “whatever” before each grabbing a drink to replenish their vocal cords to continue their bickering. You looked at the boy with jet black hair, which was sticking to his forehead with sweat from his run from the university’s bookstore to the library which was a good kilometer. He’s cute, you thought as you looked at him clumsily slip his laptop out of his black backpack which matched his black jean jacket, black t-shirt, and black jogger pants. But something was unsettling about him, you felt like you’ve seen him before.

“Hey,” you sat up in your chair and swirled your chair to face him. You introduced yourself and watched him as he jumped slightly as he furiously typed into his keyboard to bring up his lecture notes as the upright student that he was, he didn’t want to be a burden on the team although every meeting was only worth 1% out of the ten.

He came out of his trance and turned to you and smiled, “sorry I forgot to introduce myself to you!” He gestured to Yeri and Haechan, “I already knew them so I forgot about introductions altogether haha.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck shyly, “my name’s Mark Lee, nice to meet you.”

Your head tilted to the side in familiarity and realized why he felt familiar, “no way!” Mark also tilted his head to the side, confused at your exclamation. “Humberside High? The Mark Lee?”

The Mark Lee who was on the basketball team and volleyball team even though he was a sophomore and didn’t hit puberty until his junior year which resulted in him as the shortest member on both teams although the players were his age or only a year older. The Mark Lee who was confident in his flute skills from touring with his middle school band but was rejected from the high school band. The Mark Lee who was sighing all day when you were trying to study from because he was rejected so you had to buy him ice cream to cheer him up.

“How would you like your eggs?” You asked him, trying to suppress your laughter from your memories of him in high school.

He seemed to have forgotten your inside joke as he could only answer with an “ummm…”

Your lips pursed as you were slightly disappointed that he didn’t get the joke right off the bat, “I see your memories are just as bad as your flute skills.” You folded your arms across your chest and gave him another chance to remember, “I’m sad, looks like someone doesn’t remember me.”

Finally you saw recognition flash over his eyes as he snapped his fingers and opened his mouth in awe before giving you the answer that you were looking for. “Cooked!” Both of you burst out in laughter and doubled over in your chairs, with the same fond memory in your minds.

“Dang, I can’t believe it’s you,” he wiped the corner of his eye from laughing too hard and placed a hand on your shoulder, patting it as if to welcome the ensuing rekindling of your friendship. You were glad that he was still comfortable with you despite not seeing him or speaking to him for at least 3 years. “Do you remember how we’d used to go to Denny’s all the time after school?”

You slapped him on the shoulder lightly, barely grazing him as his oversized denim jacket took the brunt of your slap, “do you not remember how much you’d embarrass me?”

“Dang I got such a bad mark on my chem test…” Mark pouted as he gripped both sides of his marked test with his hands, his fingers making jagged wrinkles on the sheet as his grip tightened in disappointment in himself. His walking was more irregular and heavy than usual as you felt the gravel and pebbles kick up onto the back of your calves as you two walked off the school property and onto the sandy patches next to the road, towards the bus stop.

You peered over his shoulder to see his mark and saw a bright red ‘79’ with a quickly drawn circle on it. Usually with your other friends you would roll your eyes and say “that’s a great mark, if that’s a bad mark what does that make me?” But with Mark you knew the high standards he put on himself despite juggling AP classes and two sports teams. And telling him that would only guilt him. He would think “I shouldn’t be complaining” along with “I’m still not good enough.”

So instead, you decided to take him somewhere that you knew he would be at ease, even if it were only for an hour or two. “Hey, let’s go to Denny’s,” you proposed. Mark’s sad eyes left his paper and was now looking into your eyes.

“You’re only inviting me to make me feel better,” he mumbled with pouted lips. You smiled as you saw his hold on the test sheet weaken.

“Well, it always works,” you replied before snatching the paper out of his hands and folding it neatly so that the two ends lined up. “You can always do better next time! For now let’s enjoy the rest of the day.” You went around to Mark’s back to open up the largest pocket of his backpack to slip in the test and out of the corner of your eyes you saw his lips curl into a smile as he placed his hands into his pockets.

Due to his mark that fell below his standards, Mark’s pace was slower and that meant the two of you took longer time to make it to the bus stop. When you heard the sound of an engine behind your heels, you knew the bus was approaching. You and Mark were still approximately 100 metres away from the bus stop and had to make a run for it unless you wanted to walk 30 minutes to the restaurant.

Without warning, you grabbed Mark’s hand and pulled him in the direction of the bus stop. Although for the first few seconds you were dragging his much taller and lanky body, he got the message and matched your pace to dash for the muted yellow bus that was about to pass. Your eyes were straight ahead and determined to make it on time, but as Mark ran behind you with his arm outstretched in yours, his eyes were smiling in crescent moons and a soft pink tint was present on his cheeks.

Once you made it on the bus, you two plopped down on the 3rd row to the right window where you usually sat. He let you have the window seat as always, because you liked to look at the passing houses and trees and he liked to look at you smiling at the scenery. Little did he know that you could see his reflection in the window glass, grinning and admiring your face. He also didn’t know that you were smiling at his face and not at the view either.

Both of your hearts were still pounding from the short time of contact, but you were glad that you could use the excuse of running and being out of shape to blame your fast heartbeat. Unfortunately for Mark, he was an athlete for no justification for his fast heart rate to cover up the fact that he liked holding your hand, especially when you looked back at him to make sure that he wasn’t slowing down. When he saw the wind blow your hair back to frame your face, your bright smile, and shine from the heat; he was glad that you turned around instantly so you couldn’t see him smiling up to his cheeks.

He snapped out of his trance when you stood up and pat his head to signal him to follow. He stood up and stepped out into the aisle so that you could step off of the bus first. Both of you thanked the bus driver and walked with light feet towards the Denny’s parking lot. They didn’t have a street entrance as usually only drunk people stumbled in from the parking lot or their Ubers, or the high school theatre kids after their performance in their parent’s cars.

You two settled down into the booth seats next to the window, your favourite as there was a neon pink sign right above you which gave a retro feeling, and started to look through the menu. “Hmmm, I want something sweet and savoury tho,” you said as you were deciding whether to get a breakfast grand slam or tres leches pancakes.

“We can get both and share,” Mark said, barely skimming the menu before closing it and setting it down on the slightly sticky diner table. He couldn’t stomach the sickeningly sweet pancakes and would much rather have waffles or a simple smoothie but he never minded sharing the pancakes with you if he could see your eyes light up when you took your first bite. He just hoped that you had a big appetite today so that you could eat the majority of the dessert so he wouldn’t have to eat more than half, knowing how much you hated to waste food.

“Are you sure?” You asked with suspicion as his eyes barely touched the menu. It seemed like he only opened the menu to wait for you to make up your mind and for him to agree to it. “It’s supposed to cheer you up, after all.”

He nodded with certainty and took the menu out of your hands to stack his and yours for the waitress to take easily when it was time to order. “Seeing you stuff your face already cheers me up,” he grinned and placed both of his elbows on the table and folded his hands together. He was smug with his discrete compliment that was disguised by a teasing remark.

“Pfft,” you rolled your eyes and gave him a stank face although you could see through his intentions. You were about to look away to avoid his intense stare until the waitress came at the perfect time so you had an excuse to not look at him. “I’ll have the tres leches pancakes, thank you.”

She turned to Mark with her pen in one hand and the notebook tucked under with her other hand, “and for you?”

“The grand slam please,” he said.

“How would you like your eggs?”

Mark looked confused, which also made you confused because why would that question make him confused? You’ve been to Denny’s dozens of times but this was the first time Mark was asked how he’d like things to be cooked. And with no cooking skills or knowledge, he blurted out his answer which sounded more like a question, “uh cooked?”

You were embarrassed as you saw the waitress hold back a suppressed laugh as she pressed her lips together at the teenage boy who still had no idea how to answer the question properly. “Sunny-side up please!” You answered for him and handed her the menus.

“That’ll be right up,” she smiled and grabbed the menus from you before walking behind the counter to place your orders.

With heat rising through your neck to your temples and cheeks, you slapped Mark lightly on his arm. “‘Cooked?’” You asked with disbelief. “Obviously they’re going to cook them! She wanted to know how you wanted them cooked!”

With no embarrassment whatsoever but rather an insightful expression with his confusion resolved, he nodded and said an “ohhh… That makes more sense.”

You shuddered at the memory while all Mark could do was look at you and laugh. She got cuter, he thought as he smiled while watching your face scrunch up in second-hand embarrassment once more. “I’m still haunted by that memory, I can still remember it as if it were yesterday,” you sighed with a hand clutching your shirt over your heart.

He put both his hands up to his side and shrugged, “and to this day I do not feel embarrassed.” He leaned back into the chair smugly with his arms now folded across his chest, “you live and you learn.”

Compared to him, who was a total dork that was loved although clumsy in both speech and manners, you internalized every single moment that he messed up or said something off. It was as if the shame that he missed was transferred to your body to suffer instead. “I’m glad you think so.” You scrunched your nose at him and shook your head at his nonchalantness. “I just hope you don’t answer ‘cooked’ the next time you take a girl out to a fancy restaurant.”

Mark sighed and moved his arms from their original folded position to hold the back of his neck again, “if only I could get a date.” For some reason, once he said that you were relieved. There was no reason for your relief as you two lost contact for three years but knowing that he was single and had trouble finding someone was reassuring.

Who were you fooling though; you were afraid of falling in love with him again.

[saturday, 6:54pm]

It’s been two weeks since you reconnected with your high school best friend and first love. And like back in high school you two were glued to each other by the hip once again. From sending each other memes at 2am when both of you were tired yet weren’t bored enough to put down your phones, to studying at the library to only get food and talk for the rest of the day when either of your stomachs started rumbling; you felt as though you were transported back 3 years.

Despite reliving the fun memories, you couldn’t help but think about why you and Mark stopped contacting each other 3 years ago. However, that story was for another time and you knew that it was inevitable for you two to talk about it to find closure. So for now you focused on the problem that you were faced with; you were running late.

Mark suggested going to the drive-in movie theatre an hour away from campus to watch The Matrix since it was assigned as a reading for your philosophy of human nature course. You weren’t so sure about being in an even more cramped space than a small study room with Haechan and Yeri no matter how much you liked them after getting to know them. If anything the car would amplify their sibling-like spat or even worse, they talked throughout the movie.

Luckily for you; Haechan had an essay due that night that he had to write due to his poor planning and procrastination and Yeri had a volunteering event that she held for her club as the Vice President. Unbeknownst to you, Mark had actually begged the two not to come so he had an excuse to bring you to a romantic date spot considering the both of you only hung out for school related activities like catching each other between breaks or to study on the weekend. As the innocent boy that couldn’t tell you any white lies, they actually did have those things to do but the previous day. With that justification, he felt like he didn’t lie but rather stretched the truth.

On the side entrance of your dormitory, Mark was in his car with his phone in his hand trying to craft a text message to send to you. He wanted it to seem nonchalant but a little flirty as if he was up to pick you up from a date to hopefully give you butterflies. He had been doing that for 10 minutes already as he arrived 15 minutes early from the time you two agreed on; 7:00pm. When he looked at the time from his car’s radio, he saw that you were running five minutes late and hurriedly wrote a text because he was afraid that you forgot or ditched him. “Hey, I’m out front. You good?”

You cursed when you saw your phone light up with his text as you sprayed your fruity floral perfume on your neck and behind your ears. You spent too long picking your outfit, shoes, accessories, and even which body gel would go better with your perfume that you took nearly two hours to get ready for a seemingly chill movie session for school. When you looked into the mirror before heading out the door, you hoped that your cardigan and jeans, beachy hair, and light accessories didn’t look too much.

Once you slipped on your sneakers and rushed out of the door, you nearly tripped over the pavement until you grabbed onto Mark’s black Mercedes-Benz passenger door handle. You pulled it open and plopped inside the car. You were out of breath from rushing down four flights of stairs and nearly tripping, and from the nerves of being in a car with Mark for at least 4 hours. “Whoops sorry I’m late,” you huffed as you placed your bag onto your lap to let the seat belt lay comfortably over your torso.

When you entered the car suddenly, the air blew the sweet smell of your perfume and mix of mango pineapple body wash over to Mark. His cheeks flushed a light pink as he saw your face with a pinky spring makeup that was different from your everyday neutral. He didn’t know how much prettier you could look in his eyes. A soft cough escaped his mouth which prompted him to place his hand over it when you suddenly settled into your seat and looked over at him.

“Do you think we’ll be on time for the movie?” You asked. He shook his head from the daze that your scent and pretty face caused him to fall into and started the engine.

“We should be fine,” he said confidently before placing his right hand on the back of your headrest and using the other to steer. When he leaned in closer to you, you were taken aback and for a second thought he was going to kiss you until his head looked towards the back of the car to back up and get out of the circular entrance of the dorm. You watched the muscles of his neck clench slightly as he pulled out of the driveway and turned back around to start driving out of the city and to the highway.

You weren’t used to how much Mark had grown. Back then you liked him because he was cute, dependable, and shy. But now he was buying you snacks in between classes to make sure you ate, staying on the phone with you when he knew you were coming home from lectures late so that you weren’t scared and so that he knew you were safe, and even knowing how to effortlessly drive like the male leads do in rom-com movies.

To divert your attention on how darn good Mark looked with his freshly washed hair, white jeans and black hoodie, you ran your fingers through his fluffy hair. “Who knew we’d meet each other again all grown up.” Your slightly cold fingers would graze against the back of his neck occasionally, sending chills and shivers down his spine while his hands gripped the steering wheel.

Three years didn’t seem long but it did wonders to Mark’s appearance. Mark was always attractive even with his shy and quirky habits. Girls from your grade would say, “hey did you notice that Mark is kinda cute?” But they never made a move because the only girl he was comfortable with was you. That’s what you thought, but really he was only interested in you and he didn’t want to talk to other girls in case you got the wrong idea. His plan backfired when you thought him avoiding girls for your sake was him being hopeless around the opposite sex.

“Why? Did I get mature?” Once you were at the stop light, he turned his head to look at you and you turned to face him as well.

“Yeah,” you smiled with your hand still on his neck. “We both grew up.” He wasn’t expecting you to agree with him. He was expecting a typical reply that best friends gave each other like, “you wish,” or “no you’re still ugly.” Mark was getting his hopes up that you didn’t see him as a friend but as a potential boyfriend but like you, you both had to talk about why he left 3 years ago.

He was relieved when the traffic light turned green so that he had an excuse to avoid your loving gaze which he mistook for nostalgia. “I remember I didn’t even have my driver’s license yet,” you recalled as you slipped your hand on his neck and onto your bag, knowing that you had it in your card case along with your student ID.

Mark chuckled, “hey, it doesn’t make a difference.” He waved his finger up and shook it at you with his eyes still on the road. “I drive you everywhere to this day.” He was right. Every late night drive to McDonald’s when you were tired of creating troublesome bibliographies and when he was sick of trying to figure out why his Python code didn’t run was in his car.

“Back then I asked my mom to drive to you,” you recalled.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise, “what? Your parents would’ve killed you if they saw you going out with a boy!”

You nodded and laughed in agreement, “I’d have her drop me off at Mina’s and I’d walk all the way over to your house.”

Mark chuckled in disbelief and shook his head, “her house is 20 minutes away! You’re crazy.”

“Only for you,” you winked and shot him a finger gun when he looked into the rear view mirror. He suddenly took his eyes off and put his head out the window slightly to cool his blushing face off. Satisfied that you managed to make him shy you straighten your back into the seat smugly, “what is this? Are you getting shy? Did Mark really grow up?”

Out of embarrassment he said loudly, “hey! I’ll drop you off on the side of the road if you keep teasing me!”

You put your hands up in surrender with a wide grin across your face, “oops, I won’t make that mistake again.” He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and calmed down after a few meters. “But I know you’d never do that to me.”

How could she be so sure, Mark thought even though he would never forgive himself if he did anything relatively mean to you.

Because you like me, you thought to yourself. You always have.

But then another thought disturbed your mood, so then why did you leave?

You brushed your hair so that it gathered behind your back; every strand of hair signifying every negative moment from the past as you two were nearing the drive-in theatre. The sun was setting and the clouds were transitioning from a warm orange to a soft indigo blue. Tonight, you wanted to enjoy your time with Mark and you could have a serious talk with him next time. If he doesn’t leave you again, that is.

After Mark paid the attendant at the booth in front of the parking lot, he drove to a spot dead center so that both of you had an optimal view of the screen. If you drove to the very front then the screen would take up your field of vision and ruin the ambiance of watching a movie during sunset simultaneously but moving too far back would mean that you couldn’t see what was happening.

With only another car parked at the very back left corner of the lot, you felt as if you and Mark were in a separate world than the outside. Once the opening credits started to roll in, you pulled a bag of maltesers and gummy worms out of your bag as well as a ten dollar bill. Mark snagged the bag of gummy worms but grasped your hand that held the money between your fingers and slipped it back into your purse. “Keep it,” Mark said.

Both you and Mark watched the movie, occasionally popping a sweet treat into your mouth but both of you had watched the movie before. You watched it in high school economics to learn about how Neo might have been Karl Marx and the society was actually capitalism, and Mark watched it on his own time ten times because he loved the movie and wanted to dress up at Neo for Halloween until he realized that he didn’t look as good as Keanu Reeves but rather resembling a shiny roll of black licorice.

The two of you could care less about the movie or even watching it for discussion which was worth a meager 1 percent out of your final mark, but also two didn’t want to talk which would admit that you both wanted it to be a date. Way to be more mature about your feelings, you thought.

When the movie was finally done, you noticed that the sky was now pitch black. The car behind you left, which you could see from the side mirror, and the ticket attendant probably left early knowing that it was the last movie for the night and that no one would come to a drive-in theatre in the middle of nowhere on a Saturday night. Except for two people who wanted to go on a date without admitting it was a date of course.

Once the ending scene was done, the screen turned black which caused Mark’s car to lose all visibility as well. Although there were four street lights that shone in the parking lot, you could barely see anything without any headlight. You heard the jiggling of keys as Mark fished them out of his pant pockets until you heard him curse lightly. “Ugh, I dropped it.”

“The lights,” you said as you raised your hand to the car’s ceiling to turn on the interior lights so that he could find the keys. When you finally felt the smooth plastic button, you pushed it and the pale yellow light brightened up the car immediately. “Oh…” You said out of surprise when you realized Mark’s face was centimeters away from yours as he was also looking for the light switch.

You expected him to blush and turn away like he always did when your faces got close together. Like when you drank out of your straw when he was drinking out of his milkshake or when you leaned in close to him to pull an eyelash off of his cheek. But this time he leaned closer, his gaze falling from your eyes down to your lips.

Your arm fell limp to your side when he placed his index finger from under your chin to lift up your head. Your eyes closed as his soft pink lips came in contact with yours. Two of his warm hands cupped your face as he leaned in closer and kissed you more aggressively. Your hands grasped his forearms and felt the overflowing love that you two had kept from each other from all those years spent apart.

Mark pulled away to look into your eyes, “I-”

“Don’t say it,” you smiled sadly. “If you say it I might lose you again.”

[tuesday, 1:23am]

Ever since your kiss with Mark, you two continued to act like normal surprisingly. He wasn’t avoiding you and even if he was, there was no way in hell that you would let him out of your sights again. You still met with each other, texted each other, and behaved as you normally would. You weren’t pretending that your feelings weren’t mutual or that the kiss didn’t happen, you two just didn’t bring it up.

“Do they usually drink like this?” You asked with Yeri’s left arm slung around your shoulder as you placed her carefully into the Uber that you called for her and Haechan.

The two of them decided to celebrate your “awesome teamwork” after finishing the semester with a perfect 10% on your participation mark. “It was really because you transcribed their arguments,” Mark whispered when the two of them shouted at how high their mark was because of the participation boost.

Grateful for having members to do the work for them, they decided to treat you and Mark out for drinks. “Tab on us,” they announced proudly as they downed tequila shots while you and Mark had only a fruity cocktail each which contained a maximum of two shots.

“Yes,” Mark groaned as he pushed Haechan haphazardly into the seat next to Yeri. They folded against each other as they were about ready to pass out. You prayed to the stars that they didn’t throw up into the poor man’s Uber. “Please take them home safely,” he said after securing seat belts for his classmates and closing the door.

After you two watched the car drive off, you stood in awkward silence. You both didn’t want to go home yet, but someone had to initiate an invitation. “You hungry?” Mark asked.

“Kinda,” you replied with a smile. You knew where this was heading.

“Denny’s.” The two of you laughed after saying the infamous drunk food, I mean breakfast diner, chain.

You walked with him slowly to the diner that was conveniently located within walking distance of the bar that you had just left. Your feet swung off the concrete surface with every step, kicking off small pebbles to hear the satisfying sound of the soles of your shoes against the rough surface.

“Remember when I left,” Mark said suddenly.

You shivered at his words, prompting him to take off his bomber jacket and place it onto your shoulders. You didn’t shudder because of the breeze but because you were dreading talking about what caused your relationship to end abruptly.

“How could I forget?”

“Cheers!” Mark exclaimed, holding up his shot of whisky next to yours.

“Cheers!” You repeated after him and clinked your glass to his. You quickly downed the hot liquid which burned your throat as travelled down and coated the inside of your stomach. “Oof,” you nearly gagged at your first sip of alcohol as it reminded you of fuel but like the slightly sweet smell. “What a rollercoaster,” you said, trying to seem cool.

“How’s this for a prom!” He said laughing at your wrinkled face as if he didn’t spittle a little out of his mouth in surprise at how bitter alcohol really was.

You both wanted the prom experience but hated the theme for this year. “Tropical fairy,” you remember looking at the poster and squinting your eyes in distaste. “What kinda theme is that?”

Mark nodded at your dislike and shook his head at how little effort went into the planning. Your high school was hit with a bunch of budget cuts, university admission changes, and faculty switches which led in students with less time to plan and on top of that less money. So instead of the fancy prom that you envisioned at an elegant French bistro where your school always held it, this year was at a retirement home with catering from a pizza place. Not even a fancy pizza place that had arugula. It had pineapple pizza, which you loved, but still it wasn’t fancy.

So here you were, having our first taste of alcohol with Mark in Montreal where the drinking age was only 18 compared to Vancouver where it was 19. He begged and pleaded with his dad to borrow his car to drive for the weekend trip and you had to convince your mom that you were going with Mina and not a boy you had the biggest crush on.

“Do we have to take more?” You asked, half excited and half terrified of drinking more.

“Of course!” Mark exclaimed. “I didn’t drive this far and pack for a trip if we're only going to take a single shot!”

If only you knew he was going to tap out after two tequila shots and a white Russian. “I think it would be good if I stopped here,” he said, burping slightly as he pushed the empty glasses away from him. His face was glowing slight and you saw him sway slightly.

You laughed, also a little tipsy but no where near the state he was in.

After you two paid the bill, you sat in the nearest local park that you could find and Mark instantly laid down in a snow angel formation once you found a clean patch of grass. You cringed at the thought of leaving soil stains on his dark blue suit as he laid flat on the ground but his face was so at peace you didn’t care enough to scold him.

You squatted on the grass carefully to avoid sitting down and ruining your deep red ‘prom’ dress which was really a FashionNova knit dress that made you look like you were ready to take pictures for instagram. With your white sneakers planted on the soil, you hugged your knees into your chest to balance yourself.

“Hey,” Mark whined when he opened his eyes and saw you not committing to his coming of age, angsty, lying in the grass with his best friend who he’s secretly in love with-moment. His hand grabbed your forearm lightly to take you off balance so you could plop on the ground next to him. Your knees swung towards the patch of grass next to him and your head landed neatly on his chest. Before you could sit up, he placed his hand on your head to keep it there, brushing stray hairs out of your face. “Stay like this,” he slurred.

You laid like that with him with your heart beating out of your chest and thousands of thoughts running through your mind. He was never bold like this. He’s probably a touchy drunk you thought. “Did you know that I’ve liked you since freshman year?” The alcohol was definitely affecting him. What a lightweight.

“Obviously,” you chuckled. Your muscles were relaxing from their previous tenseness from his abrupt actions. “You thought you were so slick but I always knew it.”

Even from his voice, you could hear his surprise and the fact that a pout followed it. “Wait what?!” He said in his high-pitched voice whenever he was shocked. “Why didn’t you say something about it?”

“I didn’t want to be the first one to confess,” you said. Even though it took you all four years of high school and you could only do it when you were drunk, you thought.

Like the clueless teenager with little experience with girls, he was still confused with your ambiguous confession. “Wait… that means…”

“I like you too, you big head dummy!” You sat up with his arms and shook your head at him, embarrassed that he didn’t get your confession right away and also shy at the fact that you were basically sober and confessing to him when he was way past tipsy. You turned your head away from him to feign annoyance.

“Hey,” he said. He sat up and held both sides of your face with his warm and callous hands. His deep brown eyes were looking intensely into yours. You couldn’t bear to look at him for long without blushing, but luckily for you, you closed your eyes when his lips came into contact with yours.

You weren’t sure if it was his first kiss or not, but it was sloppy and rushed. It felt like he was releasing all of the pent-up passion for you ever since he realized that he liked you when you both met in your art class and started a conversation when he sprayed dark blue paint over your light blue denim jacket when he was trying to make the splatter effect with a paint brush. You didn’t mind though, because it was your first kiss and you didn’t know if he was good or bad without any reference.

He pulled away slightly and rested his forehead gently on top of yours, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You chuckled lightly to yourself as you recollected that night. Both of you didn’t even know what love meant yet said that to each other in the heat of the moment. Or maybe Mark said that as a goodbye, a last minute confession before he’d leave you.

“What?” You said as Mina dropped the bomb on you.

“He didn’t tell you?” She asked, completely shocked that you weren’t the first person he told considering you two never spent time apart. “He moved to Korea for university.”

For three months you two were texting back and forth, FaceTime calls whenever he could, and phone calls when you two had free time but were too embarrassed to show your faces because now you both had confessed but weren’t official yet but still not as comfortable as just friends now either. He said he was only going to Korea for the summer to visit his family.

“Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

Out of hurt, you started to send him less frequent messages and began declining his calls or attempts to FaceTime. Out of confusion, he stopped trying to reach you and the short lived relationship dissolved just like that; before it even began to bloom.

While you two were talking about what happened, you had already arrived at Denny’s and sat in a booth with your orders already sent to the back. “So,” you said dryly while stirring the cubes of ice in your glass of water with your straw. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know how we planned going to university together,” he started to explain with his gaze fixed on the corner of the table. “It was your dream school and we were so excited to become roommates and take electives together because you were in Arts and I was in the Science department…” He corrected himself, “well planning to be anyways.”

Mark paused, looking up to try and figure out how to verbalize the whirlwind of emotions that caused him to keep the truth from you in the past. “I realized that I wanted to study in Korea when I was there for vacation. I dropped everything and I didn’t know how to tell you I decided on my dream school over you.”

Your eyes shot up to match his in disbelief, “Mark! I wouldn’t hold you back. I would understand you, I would support you. Why would you keep that away from me?”

“Because I didn’t know if it was my dream school if you weren’t there,” he sighed. You were surprised and at a loss for words. You knew he had a crush on you but didn’t know how much it affected him where he was deciding on something as important as school over you.

“So why did you come back? And when you did, why didn’t you call me?”

“I came back because I don’t know,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his coke. “It didn’t feel the same as Canada, I felt lonely.” Sure he had friends, but he didn’t feel the same connection to them as he did back to the ones he had in his hometown. “I didn’t call because I didn’t think you’d want to see me. Especially after those dry messages.”

You nodded and realized that both of you messed up. He failed to communicate his desire to go abroad and you didn’t even ask him why he suddenly left. “So us meeting again was really fate huh?”

“You could call it that,” he smiled. His hand moved cautiously over the table to hold yours, nervous that you would pull back and reject him. “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers intertwined with his, “I’m sorry too. We were both too young.”

“So, will you take me back?” His eyes were twinkling with hope.

“Mark,” you said. You watched him gulp, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down with nervousness. “You never lost me in the first place.”

author’s note: ahh thank you for reading my writing and making it through to the end! i love umi’s song high school and basically just wrote this based on the lyrics haha. is it just me or did denny’s get worse? like i used to go for the food but now I just go for the nostalgia lol. anyways, please head over to my inbox for ships, requests, or if you just want to talk i’m always online nowadays lol. but for now; stay safe, stay healthy and happy! i’m here for you no matter what you’re going through. thanks for reading!

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