#I am out of it today and my roommate keeps smoking weed
Text
Methlin as my Merlin Rewatch Thoughts (2x04)
Andro: In this essay, I will explain why it would make more sense for Gwen’s character to go with Lancelot
Change: Lancelot and Inigo Montoya would have been best friends, fight me
Donts: “Giant baby rats” JUST LIKE MY COC-
Duckie: It’s Morgwen episodes like this that makes later series extra sad
Ferret: Pouty mcPoutyface Arthur
Imy: Arthur for rock climbing olympics 2024?
Jax: Ah yes, the “very obvious modern bra line” scene
Lemon: Morgana went to Ealdor to help Hunith, but won’t go with to save Gwen?
SC: Who the fuck pronounces it Morgæna
Tilt: “My feelings do not matter” YES THEY DO LANCELOT MY LOVE
#i-really-should-change-my-url-original#methlin#merlin#2x04#rewatch#I don't even remember what I tagged the other ones with#and I know this one is lame#I am out of it today and my roommate keeps smoking weed#so tengo a massive headache#hi donts
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rewatching One Piece
With Egghead Arc coming out, Miles and Ganke decided to rewatch One Piece. They had made a serious commitment to binge watch on Friday. This means these two cute nerds had to make sure their own busy schedule is at hand.
Miles had told his friends and boyfriend during their lunch time, "Wait, so you're going to be with Ganke most of the time over this anime?" Gwen asked.
Hobie didn't like this one bit, he couldn't help but be jealous. His sweet Sunflower cuddling with his best friend under a blanket while watching a long ass anime. Nope, he can't handle it still. It's hard to not let his jealousy get the best of him, but seeing Ganke, a success Computer Nerd with so much worth... his insecurities is getting the best of him.
"Not just any anime. It's ONE PIECE!" Pavtri said happily, "Me and Gaytari started watching it when we saw our Live Action one!"
"Yeah, me and Ganke binge watch that one! Caught up with the manga, too! So, we decided to rewatch it all for fun and refresh our One Piece knowledge. Egghead Arc is coming up." Miles happily said unaware of his boyfriend's facial expression.
"How many episodes are there?" Gwen asked being so out of touch with anime. It was never her thing.
"Over a thousand!"
"Holy shit, dude. How- That means you and Ganke are gonna spend a lot of more time, huh?" The blond Spider-woman glances at Hobie tensed up having to awkwardly sit up on his seat.
"Yeah, but it's not that bad." The twenty three year old grins widely, "Anyway, I can't wait for me and Ganke to spend some time. Been a minute since we actually got to hang out." Even though, they're roommates in an apartment, they hardly see each other. When they do it's mostly Spider-man stuff.
"Awe, that's so cute. You and your bestie!" Pavtri giggles, "So ya'll gonna make out."
Hobie awkwardly sat up again giving a grunt. Miles snorted as he slurp his soda through a straw, "Nah, we don't do that no more!" He chuckles.
"Hahaha, that's crazy when you and Ganke would always pretend to be boyfriends back in the day! Ya'll just kiss whenever you saw each other. Like 'Hey, bae' MWAH!" Gwen laughs out loud at the memory.
When Miles and Ganke went to parties during their teenage years, they always pretended to be a couple. Or they try to kiss in front of weird creeps so they get the idea to leave them alone.
Of course, Ganke and Miles kissed in front of the Spider Band at a party and it was so casual. Hobie was so jealous that day, he crushed his beer bottle being so annoyed.
Till today Hobie hated that memory. Miles wraps his arms his boyfriend, "Hahaha, nah. Ganke got a girlfriend and I got my boyfriend, right Hobie!"
"Yeah..." Hobie leans over to lift his boyfriend's chin and kiss him, "I am." Miles melted by his boyfriend's hand around his jaw.
"Ohh!" Pav and Gwen watched with a red tint across their cheeks. That's such a confident move! Should they be watching this?
Lyla appeared between Miles and Hobie, "NAH-AH! Miguel say keep yo hands to yourselves!"
Miles blushes by Hobie's hungry kisses, OMG, they were full out making out with tongue, again. Hobie grunts at Lyla, "It was nuthin' but a measly little kiss."
"OHHH!" Pav's and Gwen's eyes widen. Measly kiss? Then what do they do behind close doors?
Lyla's avatar fumes, "No! It's clearly a full blown make out!"
--Later---
After lunch, Miles and Hobie were at Hobie's houseboat just for some fun. The punker left some soft jazz playing while he smoke his joint. Nothing like good sex and getting high. "Mmm, Karl did a mighty ace job on this one," He coughs a bit knowing the weed is top A-Grade!
Miles lay his head on his boyfriend's bare chest, "Mmm, really?"
"Yeah, luv. Try it." Hobie handed it to his Sunflower.
Miles dabble on weed here and there, so he took it to inhale it. "Mmm-" He starts coughs, "Fuck, that shit is good, bae."
Hobie laughs seeing his boyfriend coughs, "That good, huh?"
"Mmhhmm," His Sunflower inhale again this time with caution, and hold the smoke in. Then turns to Hobie with his hand waving him to come close to his lips.
The punker grins widely as he leans over, knowing Miles want to share his smoke. The young man got close to Hobie's mouth then gently blew in the smoke in his mouth.
Hobie happily inhale Miles' second hand smoke, then inhale it and hold it. Miles let out a boyish giggle, then his boyfriend lift his head up to release the smoke with an O shape. "Mm, bloody fantastic, luv." His voice low.
"Mmm, is it." His Sunflower snuggles while nuzzling his head on his partner's chest, "Mmm, that feels so good. I think...."
"You think?" Hobie purrs lowly knowing his Sunflower is horny.
"Mmm," MIles' hand slid down under the sheets being daring, "I wanna go another round."
"I know, you do, darling." Hobie's voice low with a little growl, his hand grabs Miles' neck to pull him into an intense kiss.
Miles ain't complaining, he loves it. Letting out a submissive mewl, "Mmm," He softly chuckles, "Give me another, mi amor."
"Like this." This time his punker boyfriend added tongue.
"Mmm..." Miles happily melts, again. When they pull away, Miles' phone rang. "Oh fuck, I think Ganke is calling."
"Ugh, luv, you don't have to pick it up!"
"I need to. We're planning on cooking on Friday to binge watch the anime!" Miles picks up the phone, "Hey man, what's up."
Hobie rolled his eyes. Now, he's not in the mood anymore just high. He got up to get a beer from the fridge, while his boyfriend noticed. "Um, yeah... get some bacon, gummy bears is fine, oh- buy those juice boxes. Yeah, Billy loves those. Thanks man..."
It wasn't a long talk, Miles hung up after a simple goodbye then saw his boyfriend leaning by the doorway drinking his beer. "So? How's your sweetheart?"
Sweetheart? Oh God, not this again!
"Bae," Miles groans, "don't tell me, you're jealous!"
"Okay, I'm not." Hobie casually went back to his bed with his beer bottle set on his nightstand. Miles gave him a look being very unimpressed. He sighs, "Luv, you told me and our mates that we won't be seeing you for a while, because your going to spend most your time with yer friend!"
"And your upset over Ganke?"
"Mmm, yea and no... I don't like being without you."
"But it's only on Fridays and Saturdays and it won't be long, baby." Miles got on top of his boyfriend, then his hands caress his punker's face, "You know, we're just hanging out." Miles leans over to kiss Hobie, "I love you, baby."
"Mmm, really?" Hobie being like a happy puppy.
Miles kisses him again, "Yeah, you're mine, baby."
"I like that very much. Another kiss." Hobie purrs.
*Kiss* *Kiss-Kiss*
-After two weeks-
Hobie didn't like this, he felt so lonely without Miles. There was no lie to this, he's started to tweak out without his man. It's like he was on crack. He loves spending time with his Miles anytime he wanted.
So the next thing he did was to visit his Miles' place. It's not like he wasn't allowed too. When he got to Miles' apartment, he saw the lights on.
"Yay! One Piece!" Sweet five year old Billie happily bounced on the couch to watch some episodes with her brother and brother, Ganke. She holds her sippy cup, "Mimi! Mimi, hurry up!"
"I'm coming!" Miles brought a bowl of popcorn while Ganke had hot dogs wrapped in bacon with the works! Her big brother came by to place the large bowl of popcorn on the table, "Boo-boo, you forgot your straw hat!"
"Oh no!" Billie touches her head being in shock! She had her Luffy costume on being one of her favorite outfits to wear ever since her brother made it for her for Halloween.
Miles went over to the arm couch to get the lonely straw hat then placed it on his little sister's head. "Hehehe. Gracias, hermano!" She happily grab her strawhat to pull it down some more to fit right in place. Good thing she didn't have her Afro-puffs, but cute long braids with butterfly clips and large hair balls.
Ganke set a tray of hots dogs on the coffee table, "There. Just need the drinks." He saw the coffee table with spread of snacks.
Miles grins at him, "Nice. You're gonna make a wonderful hubby with Danika." He playfully nudge his friend.
"Popcorn!" Billed chimed out loud with her arms reaching for it, she didn't want to move from her spot on the couch.
"Oh hahahaha," Ganke blushes, "Ya think?" He watches Miles handing the bowl of popcorn to his sister.
"Yeah, man. Always." Miles chuckles, "If not I'll marry ya."
"Sheesh! I'm hubby material for Spider-man?" The two laughs out loud.
Hobie hears this from the slight open window. Billie hears this quickly turning her head, she gasps, "HOBIE!" She uses her web-shooter at him. The Punker grab the little plastic dart with half his body in the apartment.
Miles quickly turns his head having his Spidey Sense coming late, because he's use to Hobie coming whenever he wants so many times. It wasn't view as a threat. Ganke blink in shock, "Looks like I won the bet."
"Bae! What are you doing here?" Miles went over to help open the window to let his partner easily get into his apartment. "You could've called me."
"Hello, luv. Where's the fun in that?" He asked having to stand once he slide his way into the window.
Miles dust off the dirt from the bottom of window, "Still..." He kisses his boyfriend.
"I miss ya, luv."
"Oh yeah?" Miles didn't seem to believe that. Hobie is always clingy, which is surprising when they started dating. Miles always thought he was the clingy type, but nope!
When Hobie spends months with his band in his own world or some serious Spider-man stuff, Miles never seems to be bothered by it. Or did he would visit the way his partner does. It's pretty funny.
"Yes, luv. I miss you!" He hugs him.
"Hehehe, okay, bae. Well we were watching some episode but took a break for snacks." He show him the way.
Billie chews on her popcorn, "You like One Piece, Obie?"
"Not really, lil bloo." Hobie commented.
"Well, we're at Arabasta arc right now." Ganke said.
"OH yeah, the good part is coming." Miles grins widely. "Sit with me, bae." Ganke sat on the left side of the couch. Then it's Billie in the middles, next Miles and lastly, Hobie.
Hobie saw them playing the episode looking confused, he remembers his partner watching One Piece. He never understood it. Billie happily got off the couch being hyper when Luffy came on. "LUFFY!" She jumps.
Miles said to Ganke, "Some fans believe Oda will end One Piece on Skypia."
"Oh no way! That'll be a great throw back."
"For real, I was like make sense. Skypia wasn't shown as much as the other islands, so it got me wondering what plans they had with that place."
"I wonder if it's something big!" Ganke said. "I bet you Noah's Arc was the boat for Joyboy to use when the World Government drowned the world."
"Whoa, sick ass theory man!" Miles took a bit of popcorn to eat.
Hobie slouches on his boyfriend, "Luv, what's dis biblical talk about Noah's Arc? And why you bringing up Joyboy?"
"You know Joyboy?" Ganke asked.
"Joyboy is a popular Caribbean folklore... my mom drunkly mutters about it." Hobie said then stares in more confusion, "Luv, I'm lost about this carto-" he felt a dart hit his cheek, dark eyes glanced over with an upset Billie. "SHHH, NO TALKING! LUFFY IS FIGHTING CROCODILE!" She jumps happily.
Hobie sighs being lost. "You know, this is why I didn't invite you to this. You seem to hate it." Miles sighs at his boyfriend.
Ganke said, "I'm surprised he does. This is totally his stuff. There's mentions of genocide, fascism, racism, politics, slavery... Do I need to keep going?" He uses his fingers to count how many things are involved in One Piece.
"And you think I like that?" Hobie asked almost being offended.
"No, bae. He meant Luffy and his crew fights off those stuff. They kick ass. Like- Okay, you are totally watching this anime, because it's annoying how much you don't know." Miles began.
"And most of the characters are diverse. Luffy is Brazilian, Name Finnish, Zoro Japanese, Sanji French, Robin Russian, Usopp African, Chopper Canadian, Franky American, Jinbe Indian... I see him more of a Samoan in my opinion." Ganke added.
"Brazilian? You mean to tell me that lad is Brazilian?" Hobie's eyes went on the television to see Luffy's face.
"Yup." Miles chuckles, "Come on, bae. Pay attention to the show and don't focus on your jealousy. I know you came here thinking me and Ganke are doing something, huh?"
"Pfft, he's still on that." Ganke laughs.
Hobie looks embarrassed, "Love! Don't be cruel." He snuggles against his boyfriend.
"No, this time your gonna watch One Piece and your gonna like it!" Miles said in a serious tone. "Or else I'm giving you the silent treatment." He crosses his arms with a huff.
"Shheeeshhh!" Ganke chuckles.
Hobie whines, "No! Anything but that, darling!"
Billie came to jump on Hobie, "Shhh! I'm watching!" She playfully fights him.
--after twenty episodes-
Hobie watched with his eyes glued intensely at the episodes. "Well?" Miles handed him a beer bottle. The young man sat back down, he saw Billy and Ganke knocked out.
"Luv, this is freakin' fantastic!" Hobie sat up after watch Luffy kick the shit out of Crocodile, and had free the island of Arabasta. "And he does this?"
"Yup. He wants to be the Pirate King, because being the Pirate King is being free. Warrior of Libration, bae." Miles happily said.
"Warrior of Libration, huh!" Hobie finally understands. "You say he went against the Government?"
"The World Government, baby. I think you're gonna be a big fan of this anime." Miles went to pick up Billie so she can sleep comfortably in his room. "Still wanna watch?"
"Yes! Darling, you can't show me gold then deny me! I need to watch this." His punker said!
Miles giggles, "Okay, bae. I'll put Billy on my bed. She's is knock out."
"And yer mate?" Hobie looks at Ganke sleeping.
"Can you put him on his bed? He's worn out." Miles asked.
"Sure thing, luv." Hobie had no problem lifting Ganke and carrying him to his room. The young man sleep soundly on his bed. When the punker came, Miles was on the couch ready for him.
"Your gonna love the Skypia Arc, bae." His boyfriend said.
"Oh yeah?" Hobie asked as he sat down cuddling next to his boyfriend. Miles wrapped a large blanket around them. They snuggle and cuddle together while eating snacks.
"Mmhhmm," Miles kisses Hobie's cheek, "love you, baby."
"I love you, too, Sunflower." Hobie kisses him back. "Now, shh! Luffy is something." Miles only rolled his eyes at how his punker became a fan of One Piece.
#punkflower#miles morales#hobie brown#spiderman#across the spider verse#spider verse#flowerpunk#fanfic
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
December 20 — Disturbed and Urged
Current weight: 191.1
Nice! Maybe all the water I’ve been drinking is truly helping me digest better and flush my system.
Tuesday, December 20:
Cold brew
Breakfast — 2 eggs, shrimp, and chickpeas pan grilled with some buffalo garlic sauce added after.
Cold brew, entire container of salted macadamia nuts
Dinner — half of a 14” pizza with jalapeños, pepperoni, and black olives; 5 pieces of mini kinder buenos, about 3 chips and 5 kernels of popcorn; 1 low cal chocolate fudge ice cream bar
Yeah so just the macadamia nuts alone were 2400 calories. I just finished the pizza and candy wafers and I’m so dang full. I probably ate over 3500 calories today, not that I even consider them most days, but it’s interesting to think of the estimate on my hard days. I’m definitely skipping breakfast tomorrow and will be having a lighter lunch, too, if not fast all day. I genuinely think it’s the kind thing to do after eating so much today that my stomach feels like it’s being stretched.
I had a very emotionally triggering thing happen with my housemates today. In reality it was a small thing that happened, but it really triggered me to feel furious, disempowered, and violated. It reminded me of times when I was sexually abused because the way I’m interpreting events with my living situation, I feel like my boundaries are regularly being kneaded and I’m expected to simply accept and put up with it. I don’t feel respected in my home either. I’ve only been living at my current spot since the beginning of November and I keep getting insulted and everything I do and say picked apart, despite being a clean quiet sober roommate who pays rent on time. So this small event felt very significant and I felt very out of control.
I do feel proud of myself because I had strong urges to eat more of my groceries and even to go to the store and buy chocolate to soothe myself. I haven’t had a chance yet, but tomorrow I’m going to sit down during my scheduled journaling session and, with a curious and compassionate mind, simply take a look at the thoughts I was thinking that lead me to feel the way I did and to overeat. Because at the end of the day what happened was neutral.
Also, for this week I intended on making Saturday my joy eat day because we’re having a Christmas party with my coworkers. But since this happened today, I think this will have been my joy eat and I’m going to continue with my protocol through the holiday. I’ll take a look at some of the worksheets we have in my program and mentally prepare for it ahead of time.
Another thing, I was kind of planning on smoking weed on Christmas but now I’m reconsidering. When I smoke I tend to overeat after. I want to stay committed to my protocol and my weight loss goal. The last couple times I smoked I didn’t really enjoy my experience either, so what would really be the point? I am open to enjoying everything about the party other than the food— the atmosphere, the music, the gifts, and most importantly the people. I want to be present for it all.
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
to me tomorrow
ugh. we have wokr today. thats ass,,,, BUT!! no work til wayyy later in the day like 4:30!! do ur makeup early tho so we can feel pretty all day :) yay :) today was okay. i got told I was rude by the DLO man at the gyno who took my blood to test if my r@p15t gave me syph1l1s because I was about to pass out and he was telling me that next time I shouldn't tap my foot (which I will not do in the future but it was the only thing keeping me from passing out) when getting my blood drawn bc he was having trouble w it "sliding" to which I responded that I did not want to hear about getting my blood drawn while losing consciousness. That was the rude part!! where I said I don't want to hear about getting my blood drawn right now!! as this man held me up in the chair because I was falling over and freezing cold!! ugh.. anyways and then I had to tell mom I got r worded bc I had to ask her a question about insurance only she could answer for the testing. afterwards we went to lunch and got broccoli and potatoes with gluten free cupcakes, it was nice. she texted me saying i could talk to her. shes not being pushy and i recognize that she is trying,,, but, idk i just,, i cant get over everything. not after seeing how horribly it affects me. oh fuck and THEN I hung out with ashley which was nice but she took me to petsmart and I saw a cat I fell in love with and then I had a mini impulsive moment because idk why but alllll of today I've had major impulse control issues (starting with wanting to punch the man who took my blood. then I raised my tone with ashley and had to stop myself for lashing out at her because I was confused on the directions even tho she was doing a perfectly fine job of giving directions) and then I told my roommate about the cat and she was upset about it but I got confused because I wanted a cat and didn't get why I couldn't just have a cat. shes right but I hate being this up and down. from being on the brink of fainting to trying not to hurt someone I am no longer in control. im scared of myself but I smoke weed and pretend that im not. BACK TO TOMORROW!! hi hi hello! i am so so in love with your existence gine. you are a beautiful soul with a heart to learn and inspire. keep going babygirl, you got this, i love trust and believe in you. fight this shit.
work on finishing up those snowmen and finally start the show you!! if you wake up early you can go get a monster and something to eat, there's candy in the car! grab a monster and some blue raspberry candy tho love u deserve it no one needs to think yours skinny its winter time and you're just cold, its not cute. eat your candy, its just a bit, go home and do a hiit workout and decorate some personality-filled snowmen babe. i love you i love you I LOVE YOU!! always honey pop!!
<33, us
1 note
·
View note
Text
Kinktober: Day 3
Levi // high sex + dumbification // service dom!Levi and small!afab!Reader // College!AU // face-sitting, throat-fucking, and mating press
warnings: throat-fucking | dumbification | impact play (ish) | dacryphilia | breathplay (very ish) | recreational drug use (weed) | dubcon (despite use of safewords/signals, drug use makes it dubcon) | breeding kink (ish)
wc: 6.2k
a/n: did i spend 5hrs today editing this? yeah. 6 thousand words of high sex with service dom, pussydrunk Levi? yeah. super telling of what im into, i guess.
thank you for all the support on this event btw! this is where it ends, if a tad late & out of order.
-lev☂︎
Listened to while writing:
It was your idea, naturally. You knew you’d get distracted and you knew he’d get distracted, but maybe that was the point.
That was definitely the point.
Biochemistry will come and go. Spending the afternoon with your longtime boyfriend Levi getting down to business while potentially hotboxing your bedroom? That’s forever.
The 'study session' excuse didn’t even last thirty minutes. In retrospect, dressing down to one of Levi’s tees and a pair of tight shorts that have holes skirting up your flank—that might’ve been overkill. Bathing in your expensive body wash too. The one thing you didn’t slyly do on purpose was leave your weed stash not even a foot away from where you and Levi sat together; the glass jar sticks out like a sore thumb on the edge of your desk.
You tap away at your bare thigh impatiently. By the way Levi is staring at the laptop screen, you can’t tell if he’s seriously reading the study guide or not. You can never tell. Right now, his chin is propped up over his fist with his brow furrowed. Levi's eyes scan the doc, but by god you’ve never gone out of your way to be so obvious in your life. You feel like whining.
“Levi–”
Levi scoffs and leans forward. The laptop doesn’t fall shut as much as it's slammed.
Promptly, he looks at you. “Yes? You have my attention.” Levi’s gaze rides down your body. “But I'm sure that was your intention, right?”
Yes!
You smile, just a little, but hide it under an inquisitive hand. “I don’t know what you mean. You know how studious I am, baby.”
Levi scoffs and swivels his chair. You squeak as his bare forearms snake around your waist and manhandle you over and into his lap. Being small—smaller than Levi of all people—has its advantages.
He speaks against the shell of your ear, “You knew this would happen–" You hum of approval as Levi nuzzles your ear. “Hell, you even smell good.”
From where your eyes had drifted closed, they fly open, appalled. “Hey, I always smell good–”
“You know what I meant,” Levi scoffs, then squeezes you when you don't reply. “…Hey, don’t look at me like that.”
You knew what he meant; it’s hard not to smirk, but you love to poke fun at him. Levi pouts now like a kicked puppy, so you can’t resist wriggling around in his lap to kiss it right off his face. Levi deepens it almost as soon as your lips touch.
Just like how Levi is tuned into details like your shampoo or how you wear your hair one day or another, he wears your favorite chapstick today—the savory kind that leaves you yearning to kiss him over and over. His lips are full and smooth as they move against yours, then you feel Levi’s palm pressing against the small of your back. Encouraged, you slot your thighs at either side of his hips and cup the nape of his neck. A movement to return the sentiment of, keep going, please.
Something smooth like glass slides against the oak of your desk, and this time you really can’t stop yourself from smirking. Levi pulls away to flick your cheek playfully, and brings the glass jar of joints between you. You really only smoke when Levi’s over, but he’s also the only one between the two of you who can open the jar. Forget about your roommate.
The swift aroma of deep greenery and a spicy sort of savory wafts up and out. You giggle and link your hands around Levi’s neck as he deftly plucks a joint out of the stash. There at the back of his undercut, you run your thumb over the prickly hairs just above his nape.
Levi’s breath falters at your touch, always so sensitive here.
His sharp gaze flickers up. “Stop that. I’ll fuck you when you’re ready to be fucked, or not at all.”
“I love you,” you grin, and rock gently against Levi’s lap.
He grunts, but shows no other indication that you've made his pants so much tighter from just that slight movement. He doesn’t stop you, either; just picks a lighter out of his chest pocket and sets the green between his lips.
Those tender, plump little lips.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m silently asking you when we agreed you’d hit it first,” you tease. “Doesn’t seem fair.”
“Fair.” Levi accentuates the word with a deft raise of his brow. As if you’ve been anything but a brat for his dick this whole time, and you know it. “No. Guess not.”
Levi’s lighter hisses then ignites, and you find it hard to look away from the cherry-end of the joint as the flimsy paper burns away and reaches the main attraction. The deep green of the weed singes and darkens rapidly as Levi inhales, and his eyes are half-lidded and seductive, boring right into you.
Your hands never stopped mindlessly playing at Levi’s undercut. Now, your fingers cradle each side of his sharp jaw and brush over his cheekbones. Seconds pass, but you were curling with impatience as soon as Levi walked in the front door, really.
“Come here,” Levi rasps, and sinks his hand into your hair for your lips to eagerly meet. Your jaw slackens to welcome burning smoke inside, all over.
It hurts like good liquor, but you’re even more enamored with Levi’s tongue. You've only just begun to mingle when you must break apart, lest your lungs dry out and utterly waste away. It’s easy not to cough, but it’s harder not to giggle. Levi is so fucking cute.
You tell him so in time for him to exhale, and the smoke drifts out from between his lips. With the arch of a thin brow, the look he gives you is a mix of mild amusement and fondness. You hit the joint on your own this time.
It’s a habit of yours—not a bad one—to close your eyes as you inhale. Then there’s Levi, who uses this to his advantage and molds his teeth with the warm column of your throat, kissing, nipping. You feel his tongue dart over your pulse.
This time, you almost do cough. A throaty moan sounds instead, and the heat of Levi’s breath shudders against your skin. He pulls away to run his thumb over the little bruise he’s left in your skin only to murmur, “Keep going. Don’t mind me.”
You laugh—how could you not?—but indulge Levi by forcibly pressing his mouth back to your collar. The force of his nibbling leaves you shuddering as you take in more of the smoke. Levi’s hands wander and caress, but once he tweaks your nipple through your shirt—his shirt—you grind against him. Levi’s lap is warm and you can feel where he’s growing harder—the front of his jeans is already tenting.
“So needy,” Levi chides, but his hand continues to play with your tits as he pulls away, his lips shining and swelled. You pass him the joint eagerly because he's right; you need to feel his heated skin, and you need the dull throb in your clit to go away.
Levi’s hand buries in your hair as you pepper kisses down his jaw, then kiss and knead dark hickeys into his skin that leaves him squirming. You feel his hips arch off the cushy chair and tug yours against his.
Your room has gained a heavy air of warm marijuana smoke and rising desperation. You sense it when Levi exhales, murmuring, “that’s my good girl. Don’t stop.”
Your pussy quivers, and instead of rocking, you outright roll your hips against the heat radiating from between Levi’s thighs. His hips stutter. It’s not enough to feel his cock, and you whine. It's not enough. Not enough.
“Use your words, baby.”
Your hands snake beneath Levi’s tee to paw at his chiseled muscles, and you plant eager kisses like a necklace around his throat, up to his sharp jawline. His nipples are hard and peaked as your thumbs graze them, then work in circles.
Levi speaks your name, then forcibly tugs you away by your hair. Despite the look on his face, he squirms where he’s pinned underneath you, where you're groping him.
“Tell me. Need my tongue on your clit, or my hand?”
Your breezy high has already set in. Levi’s voice—low and decadent at your lips—seems to reverberate down to your core. Your cunt clenches, and your thoughts stutter.
“Need you,” you say. It’s all you have the mind to say. “Levi.. c'mon.”
“My poor baby,” Levi soothes, and shudders a sigh. Your hand’s gone on to clutch at his packed muscles, so warm where they flex under your palms. “Mm. Think sucking on my cock for a while will help?”
Hopelessly, you nuzzle Levi’s cheekbone—Where’d the fucking joint go?—and squeak at the force of Levi’s smack against your bare thigh. Once he pulls away, you could harp on just how captivating, soft and strong he looks, all at once. His bangs are strewn and messed about his forehead, but Levi's blooming cheeks and keen eyes tell you exactly where his mind is. You’re so distracted you nearly forget what he just asked you.
“Fuck my mouth,” you offer, and your mind practically buzzes. “Use me, please.”
Levi groans softly—he must be a little gone too—and his hand finds the thick roundness of your ass. There’s no resistance considering what you’re wearing; your shorts might as well pass for briefs.
Levi maneuvers you close as he presents two fingers to your lips, pressing in. They part, and he feels his cock stir as you draw them inside your velvety mouth: you're just for him. He sighs at the warmth. Already, you bob your head and swirl your tongue. His perfect little angel.
Your eyes drift shut, but Levi doesn’t take his ravenous gaze off you for a second. It’s only when you begin to suck his digits that he traps his lip between his teeth and pats your cheek.
“Down,” he gently orders, as if you’re a kitten. “Between my legs, sweetheart. Don’t let go of my hand.”
Levi’s soft side shows itself the most when he’s stoned; you smile blissfully. This is a routine so ingrained in you that you find Levi’s hand effortlessly; his other buries in your hair. You shuffle closer following the distinct clink of his belt buckle coming undone.
Given you squeeze Levi’s hand—hard enough to convey your urgency—he’ll pull away to ensure you’re alright. It’s important to have rules like that anyway, but especially when you’re both so swept away. Levi (naturally) is the one who insisted you two ought to use it.
Levi’s cock is hung and weeping from between his open thighs; his jeans are shucked down around his calves. You watch his jaw tighten and his teeth work at his bottom lip as he lazily strokes himself. You keep the image of him like this in your mind for safekeeping.
Levi’s cream tastes buttery and yet bitter; swirling your warm tongue round his cockhead, you pick up on saltiness spilling across too. With Levi’s palm guiding your jaw, you let your eyes drift shut under his praise: you’re his good girl, and you take him so well. Your thumb wanders in lazy circles overtop your joined hands. Levi's letting you take the lead for now.
You sense Levi shifting back against his seat, getting comfortable, and yet the hard muscle of his thigh is gently tensing and easing underneath you, nonstop. His breathing has gone stuttered and punctuated by blissed little noises Levi smothers in his throat. Your tongue snakes up his slit, and Levi’s hips jolt. He moans.
“More,” he commands, and with his free hand guides your mouth by the bunched hold Levi has on your hair.
Promptly, your lids flutter and you watch to make sure Levi gets to see as you swallow him in. It’s more challenging in how his girth prods at your swollen cheeks. Your lips compensate to take his size while your tongue smooths the underside of his cock. The sound of an earnest groan dying in Levi’s throat doesn’t escape you. Without realizing, your eyes fell shut again.
Levi watches you suck him in, and his palm falls from your hair to cup your cheek; to feel himself just on the other side, and his eyes fall shut in desire. Your mouth is so savory and eager, Levi feels he might melt. When the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat—and when you whimper, swallowing heavily around him—Levi groans feverishly, then rolls his hips. Your eyes are shiny with tears and your cheeks are flushed, blown the fuck out, but you’re so damn pretty. Levi doesn’t hesitate to tell you so.
“Let me,” he rasps, his breathing having grown deep and uneven. His eyes are like gunmetal in the light, and your thoughts ease away to make room for his unwavering hand in your hair, pushing. “Keep taking it for me. Good girl.”
Levi takes up a lax, steady pace with his thrusts. Obediently, you make yourself pliant and relaxed as more of his cum spills onto your tongue. You suck and swallow it down in all its rich bitterness, and Levi watches you, lips gently parted. It’s almost subconsciously that he draws you in closer, then picks up in urgency. Your knees have begun aching weakly, but the ache in your cunt takes precedence; you moan and let Levi have his way despite the tears spilling down your cheeks.
Levi’s longing simmers with yours; it’s like a salacious fever dream, taking you like this. Your pretty mouth, welcoming him with each smooth plunge inside. Velvety warm; wet, so much so Levi can hear even over the tremble in his voice; in yours. He won’t let go of your hand, but lust smolders in him at the hot tears now streaming down, and your plumped, pink lips. He can’t keep his eyes off you. In his voracious, dizzy lust, the need to reach his end becomes irresistible.
As Levi's thrusts become unforgiving and urgent, his moans are punctuated by his balls smacking against your lips. Drool has long-since pooled at the corners of your mouth, spilling out to mix with cool tears.
It’s become too much effort to push Levi along, or do much of anything besides kneel between his thighs and let him plunder you. Your mind is devoted to two things: relishing in Levi's every rousing sound, every splintered breath, and trying to breathe through your nose. With your free hand you half-heartedly grind into your open palm, if you can manage that. More than anything you wanna hear Levi reach his end, satisfy him; make him flood you with his cum. You whimper.
“`m gonna cum,” Levi speaks breathlessly, and stutters a throaty moan. His eyes fall shut. “That’s my good girl—fuck!”
Levi’s heavy balls draw up with your free hand sinking your nails into the firm muscle at his strong thigh. You’d given up on easing the ache in your slippery cunt—save for squeezing your legs together—in exchange for Levi. It’s the bite of pain from your nails that leaves Levi’s hips stuttering, and his jaw to fall slack. The way he moans with pleasure so full leaves you yearning.
Your cunt flutters with Levi's throaty, pleased noises; you feel his cock throb and pulse in your mouth as salty musk explodes over your tongue. His thigh, beneath where Levi is squeezing your hand, trembles minutely with the force of his orgasm. His movements—previously harsh—slow and ease, and in the next moment your mouth feels oddly at a loss without Levi's cock stuffing it. You heave for air, all the while moving to nuzzle his warm thigh; to rest, or for comfort, maybe.
Levi finds his own breaths. Every word that falls next is a praise for you as you sense his hand sweeping over your forehead brush your bangs back; they're slick with sweat. Your tears Levi smears away, before that same hand catches under your jaw so you'll look up at him.
"Took me so well," Levi praises, cheeks flared, and you'd hum if your voice had time to recover. Without speaking, you already know it's shot. You lick your lips and cough a little as you gulp and find breath. "You alright? Off your knees, let me help you."
"Mhm. Thank you," you manage, and cough again. Post-orgasm has seemed to sober Levi up somewhat, and just as well he smoked less than you. You'd be swooning over how responsible Levi is if you weren't so distracted by the ache in your knees and the insatiable throb in your clit.
Levi catches your waist under his bicep and helps you to your feet. Your legs tremble violently for a moment, but like a fawn you manage the yard or so over to your bed. All the while, Levi speaks with a warm cadence as he guides you, "are you sure you don't want a cough drop? We don't have to keep going if you need a second."
At this, you chuckle—raw and used—and sink into the mattress. Gravity seems much stronger all of a sudden, so you go like a sack of lead and squeeze your thighs together with earnest. The bed sinks down with Levi's weight as well; a warm palm soothing your skin. "No, baby. Thank you. Jus' let me catch my breath, huh?"
Levi hums thoughtfully, and you blink your eyes open in time to watch his packed muscles flex as he pulls his shirt over his head. The tufts of hair around Levi's head stick out in places, and you find yourself smiling.
Levi's lip quirks, and he leans over you to kiss your forehead; he lingers there for a moment. Pulling away, he murmurs, "catch your breath then. I'll relight the joint; when I'm back, I want your clothes off."
Your mood lifts with the promise of more weed, but even more so with the potential for a Levi-shaped reward. With a little grin you agree, but not before Levi leans forward and swipes his thumb across your plump bottom lip. With a dollop of his own cum on his finger, Levi's lip curls into a slight smirk; such a rare sight your heart jumps. He levels his gaze with you before bringing said thumb up to his lips and licking it clean.
"Fuck," you whine, and your palm falls between your spread thighs, to your utterly ruined shorts. It’s not enough at all.
"Be good," Levi gently reminds you, but not without amusement as his weight drops away from the mattress.
With as much urgency as you can manage, you shove your shorts and panties—now warm and sodden with your own cum—down your thighs and kick them away. Levi's shirt, it being a tad oversized on you, puts up more of a struggle, but when it’s off, it’s gone. In your peripheral you pick up on the amber glow of the cherry-end of the joint, which is now reduced to a roach, and the way Levi’s lips close around the opposite end to get it going.
You watch him as you spread your legs apart, two fingers circling idly round your clit. Not a moment in and your hips kick up into your own touch.
Levi watches you hungrily, then picks his phone out of his sweatpants. You mewl at the thought of him taking a candid shot of you like this—despite the fact that he almost exclusively uses your polaroid for that—but he doesn’t. Instead, the speaker at the corner of the room pings and it comes to life with one of your favorite songs.
The action isn’t exactly Playboy, but you find yourself shuddering a breath anyway. Levi, at the least-expected of times, is so thoughtful. It’s strange to find yourself high and horny out of your mind, yet your heart booming with love, all for Levi.
Said man comes back to you in a cloud of stifling weed-smoke; you take the roach when Levi hands it to you and smother a sigh when his palm falls over the heated skin just above your belly. You feel the soothing touch shadow, then knead into the plush of your left tit, thoroughly massaging. As you inhale, you moan softly behind the green.
“Gorgeous little thing,” Levi mutters, voice raw from the smoke. You know he feels it when you shiver. “Feel like sitting on my face? Or I could get between your thighs instead, let you lay back and enjoy it.”
Levi’s voice is low and thrilling. Where you’ve been working your clit, you roll your hips into your hand; smoke seeps from your mouth as you speak, though your voice is rendered rougher than Levi’s by a long shot: “I’m greened the fuck out and you’re asking me to pick between two good choices.. seriously?"
You watch Levi’s lips curl into another smirk; it kindles your lust to know he's enjoying teasing you.
“F’you can’t decide, I have a preference. I thought to ask since you seem tired, but..” Levi’s hand shadows over yours moving shakily over your clit, then replaces it with lithe, steady fingers. “..looks like I misjudged you.”
“You did.” You try to sound snarky, but your voice trembles with arousal “Y-Yeah, like that.. idiot.”
Levi hums conversationally, but he’s not looking at your face. He’s watching your cream seep between his fingers, sweet and buttery; he’s watching you squirm and your thighs spasm under his touch. The fabric at the front of Levi’s sweatpants is already straining again.
“Sit up,” he orders, and obediently, you collect yourself and push yourself up on one hand. The other nurses your dying joint.
Levi joins you in bed and arches his back to ease the denim down and off; this time completely. Avidly, you move to help him. His skin is toasty and you can feel the muscles flexing with exertion just underneath.
“Thank you,” Levi grunts, but in the next moment gathers the back of your thighs in his palms and manhandles you up and up until you straddle his chest. You’ve joined the clouds once more as you shift your body weight over Levi’s shoulders. Your knees sink into the pillows behind his head, where Levi’s half-lidded gaze centers on you.
Your pussy quivers with the sight of him like this; so submissive, his dull nails digging into your thighs. As Levi shifts and gets to lapping the slick from your inner thighs, you fancy a long inhale and blow it into his face. Levi groans.
“Smells that good?” you giggle, and worm your hand under Levi’s head, encouraging him.
Levi’s palms move to your full asscheeks, soothing and squeezing. Licking away at the mess he’s made of you like a madman, it takes him a moment to reply.
“Tastes good,” is his answer, and gently sinks his teeth, sucking. “So damn good.”
It’s never a challenge to get Levi pussy-drunk. Never is this more true than when he’s stoned, when he’d rather lay between your thighs for an hour or two than go through the work of walking down the block to actually grab something to eat.
Levi’s onto his third hickey—for now a heavy, scarlet mark in your flesh—when you lose your patience and wrench his jaw away with one hand. A string of saliva is left in your wake, and Levi groans with earnest.
Some more weed did him good, you think.
“Such a needy baby,” you chide, and roll your hips up and into Levi’s half-parted lips. They're warm and plump as they part further and welcome you in.
“There you go,” you say, and sigh in bliss, “there's my good boy.”
It’s a comfort that Levi can slip between roles so easily. He can call you his angel and spank you at the first round, moan into your wet mound when you call him 'your good boy' at the second.
Levi’s hands have settled at the front of your thighs now, the feeling background to his dizzying, wet mouth. He kisses and slurps away at your vulva before settling into your labia to lap away at your slick. Too far from your clit; not where you need him most.
The slow drum of the music settles into the background too as you shift forward, grinding your hips and forcing Levi’s attention in a different direction. His tongue flits over your puffy clit, where a small sound dies in Levi’s throat as he probes it with his tongue. First gracing your longing with purposeful laps of his tongue and open-mouthed kisses, then slurping.
The slick sounds are smutty, wet and downright vulgar; you struggle for breath and moan as you mold Levi’s mouth snug with your drooling cunt. He eagerly buries his face between your thighs.
It’s hard to focus on inhaling in favor of rutting into Levi’s mouth; when his thick tongue slips inside you, a sharp cry falls and you garner wonderful friction for your clit with the slope of Levi’s nose.
You manage to crack open your eyes, and finish the joint with one last hit. There’s hardly any use in it left anyway; you pivot a little to discard it in the ashtray on the nightstand, where you plunge your hands into Levi’s hair with a sweet moan. He never even notices you putting it out.
Levi’s tongue glides across the ridges of your entrance, and pleasure scorches in you. With your thighs hugging his head, Levi’s breaths harshen; more fervently, his velvety tongue fucks into you.
You cry out again, and roll your hips. “Oh—my god, Levi.”
Levi’s arms lock around your waist, and the mattress groans underneath with his squirming; rubbing his thighs together, you think distantly.
Still, Levi needs to breathe even if he doesn’t find it so important; you guide him back to your clit with both palms cradling his cheeks. Levi makes a sound you’ve never pulled from him before—an airy, “Mm, hah?”—as he gasps for breath and looks up at you in confusion.
“Forget to breathe, honey?”
You scratch at his scalp, swallowing your breathlessness. Your pussy clenches with just how close you are; the sublime sight of Levi’s cheeks damp and rosy, plus his bangs messed about his forehead urges you further.
Levi grunts and his eyes fall closed again; he returns to licking and swirling his tongue about your puffy clit, speaking between laps, “‘m high as fuck.. n’ you taste good. Take a guess.”
“m gonna cum,” you whimper, suddenly struck with your fierce desire pulled close and taut between your thighs. You tangle Levi’s soft locks between your fingers and rock into his swirling warmth. “God, Levi...!"
If Levi was sober and not drowning in your pussy he’d probably retort, but he groans—the type that rumbles low and earnest in his chest—and locks his hands around your waist. With his tongue at your clit, he hastens your lust and rapidly you feel as if you might plunge into a heavenly sea. Your sounds rise in volume, pitch. You plead Levi’s name.
Levi’s cock twitches against his stomach, straining. It’s not unheard of for him to be rendered so insatiable so soon after his first orgasm; it becomes a given with your heady, sweet taste on his tongue and your hands in his hair. Your damn voice crying out for him, even. You.
As your cries of his name rise, Levi massages your clit with his tongue flat, rubbing and suckling, which is the best he can do, considering. Too damn high to keep a consistent pace or even the mind to focus on opening his eyes. He wants to make you cum on his face; to hell with the rest right now.
You feel your walls ripple hard around nothing as your orgasm flutters, then engulfs you. It’d been a slow rise, and now a euphoric, all-consuming ride down. It’s a chore not to wail and it’s impossible to stop from crying out your euphoria as your thighs shake and your toes curl. Over and over, the waves thunder through you with Levi carrying you through, working to prolong your bliss.
As the waves ease and the aftershocks set in, your movements begin to still, but your trembling sure doesn’t. You’re so fired up you doubt it’d take much for you to cum again; the pleasurable coil in your belly, already drawn taut like a bowstring proves it.
Levi pats your thigh, and you hear him panting. “Your color?”
Green. So fucking green, and that’s your answer as you open your eyes and dismount his chest. By Levi’s tone, you know he’s a hair-trigger away from fucking you stupid into your mattress. All he need’s your word.
You feel Levi's hands pressing you down against the sheets, and you let him manhandle you without a care; probably couldn't even if you wanted. Levi breathes harsh and quick as he bends you at the knees, and it's instinct that has you locking your calves around his strong waist.
"Look at me," Levi commands, and your cum messing all round his plump lips catches your eye. You grapple for the girth of Levi's bicep as he crowds over you, practically bending you in half. "Gonna breed you. That okay with you?"
"Yes!" you exclaim, and your chest heaves as you do so. All you can do after that—with Levi towering over you and trapping you in a mating press—is squeeze his hips and paw at the packed muscle of his biceps. Still, you can't help but arch towards him at Levi's girth sliding between your folds, as if he hadn't been taking your throat for a fucktoy earlier. "Come on, Levi–"
The slide of Levi's cock plunging into your soaked pussy is absurdly easy, leaving you to cry out at the rich stretch, filling you up profoundly good. Levi wastes no time burying himself inside you, but not before the air is practically knocked out of him from your sweet heat sucking him in. He groans, praises you, "so damn wet. That's my girl."
With you tucked into a breeding press underneath him, there's so squirming away from Levi's insatiable rams into your cunt. Despite how frantically he fucks into you, his balls slap against your skin with each thrust; unrestrained, but not sloppy. Sober or stoned, Levi still knows how to fuck you.
With the ridges of Levi's cockhead grazing through your sensitive entrance again and again, all you can do is weakly thrash and beg for him in lieu of cumming again not even a few minutes past your last orgasm. Your back arches, and you sink your nails into his thick bicep.
"Fuck," Levi grunts, and his hand is back at your tits, kneading as they jiggle in wake of each powerful roll of his hips. "Poor thing. Close already?"
"Levi—Levi–" you cry, helpless to his ruthless pace and how it feels for your cunt to get stretched wide by Levi's cock. You've lost the coherency to even answer. The world beyond your hotboxed room—even beyond Levi trapping you and fucking you into oblivion—is moot. "Gon'a–"
You head falls back against the plush, inciting Levi to groan and bear down even harder. You sense his palms at your knees, folding you practically in half. While your muscles begin to strain and ache, you hardly feel it. A large hand comes to rest at the shallow of your throat, and you hear yourself give another shameless cry. Levi's thick cockhead kisses your cervix.
Levi can feel your cushy walls trembling round his cock, warmth seeping pleasure into his flesh and pushing him further towards his own end. There's a thrill in knowing you're about to cum from his cock alone, and makes it a point to force his eyes open to watch.
Levi's jaw falls slack with a hearty groan as you hug his cock tight, and your head tips back; he watches your pretty lips part to form a full 'o'. All the while, Levi's name becomes an endless mantra from your sweet mouth.
Your gummy walls hold him so snug it quickly becomes a challenge for Levi not to tip over and fall to his own vivacious pleasure. His hand finds your clammy throat with a guttural moan, and each new slam inside you becomes so much wetter with you gushing all over his cock.
To Levi's satisfaction, your hand finds his wrist at the same moment your half-lidded gazes meet, fucked-out with pleasure and drunk on your respective highs. In an unspoken understanding, you know to squeeze hard if it gets to be too much.
"You're gonna take everything I give you," Levi orders, not a question but a stern fact, and despite your cunt jolting with the pricks of overstimulation, you manage a meager squeeze of Levi's tight waist and a dazed, "yeah!"
With frenzied desire, Levi plunges into your cunt relentlessly, your name intermingled with "yes, yes–" and guttural curses tossed into the mix. Levi's own blazing gratification nears with a moan and the feeling of his balls drawing up.
You watch him, as if mystified in your sex-and-high-induced stupor. It's a heavenly haze so soon after such a powerful orgasm; the type that rolls and thunders through you. You watch Levi's thin brows knit together and the tension in his face falls away, and whimper.
The powerful slams of Levi's hips stutter, then still as his jaw goes slack. His second orgasm of the afternoon flutters and rolls, crashing into him all at once. It's too euphoric not to bury his pulsing cock inside your velvet before it jolts and Levi's heat floods inside you. "Fuck, mine."
You gasp as his load shoots inside you, only for your head to fall back again with a wavering cry. Levi's cock twitches and throbs all throughout his orgasm, leaving you to blubber amidst overstimulation and the sensation of your cunt fluttering around his girth. Levi only drives his cock inside you a few more times before he eases and goes still; even in the throes of aftershock, you sense his length twitching idly inside you.
"Fuck," you heave, and it's all you can say. Your hamstrings burn, your knees, and you're muddled in sweat and cum. Between where your bodies are joined, you sense the mix of Levi's cum and your own streaming down your slit. "Fuck, Levi."
Levi never actually choked you, but his palm smooths down your neck anyway, before falling away. From where your calves have slacked down around Levi's flanks, you sense the way his body minutely trembles from the force of his orgasm. You hear him work to catch his breath.
"You alright?" is the question of the day on Levi's end. You give a hum in response and Levi eases the position, allowing your feeble limbs to relax into the mattress. "I didn't hurt you?"
"M'okay," you reply, and elect not to move. You only allow Levi the room to pull out of you and grimace; else, moving is too much damn work. "Tired. M'throat hurts... You okay?"
Levi's palm passes over your clammy temple, brushing your bangs away. He sounds weary but oddly fond as he says, "I'm alright. You still have cough drops in your bag?"
You're more than inclined to object to a thorough clean-up right now. As Levi's presence leaves the bed, you open your eyes and quietly admire the curve of his ass from the bed, like a pillow princess.
"The sheets are a lost cause, 'Vi. 'M not moving."
Levi snorts, and you hear the tell-tale rustling of your bag.
Then, you think you sink into a hazy doze, because you could swear the music quiets down, changes genres, and Levi is back at your side only a few moments later. You find his weary, bedraggled visage upon a warm kiss at the side of your mouth, cough drops in hand, and your heart swells.
"Thank you."
"Least I could do for letting me fuck your brains out."
As you tuck the cherry lozenge in your mouth, you giggle and guide Levi to your side by the prickly nape of his neck. A quilt is tossed haphazardly over your shins—you're both too damn sticky and hot to tolerate much else—and Levi plasters himself to your chest.
"Take a nap," you tell him. "Jus' for a while. 'M sleepy."
"Planned on it," is Levi's murmured response as his head comes to rest between your breasts. You feel his arms tighten around you. "Half an hour. Less. Need t' clean."
You hardly hear that last part. Knowing you, Levi will give in to an hour or so of sleeping off both the high and the hours of sex. It's you, after all. In the first place, he fed into the 'study session' excuse knowing it was just that.
So much for final exams.
| Kinktober 2021 masterpost | levi masterlist | main masterlist |
#g.scribe#levi ackerman smut#attack on titan#levi x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi x you#aot x reader#aot smut#college au#aftercare#cw praise kink#cw dumbification#cw brat taming#cw overstimulation#cw impact play#tw throat fucking#cw face riding#belt#tw dacryphilia#tw breathplay#afab reader#kinktober 2021#aot oneshot#snk oneshot#Spotify#tw breeding kink#cw drug use#tw dubcon
831 notes
·
View notes
Text
INCORRECT HAIKYUU QUOTES FROM BUZZFEED UNSOLVED
nisu entries:
i got this idea from @memekingofwwiii and some of it are theirs 🙇🏻♀️ thank you for letting me add it here 😊 it’s a mixture from buzzfeed unsolved supernatural and true crime 👀 i really had fun doing this!
warning: swearing, mentions of death/murder/killing/blood/weed
「part 2」
Tendou: i did have a neighbor who had an overhang of a lime tree, and it was great because i could go pick a little lime.
Ushijima: did you ever think about killing your neighbor?
Tendou: when he didn't give me limes, yeah.
Ushijima: oh, okay; all right.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Matsukawa: this is my bridge now, if you want it back you’re gonna have to kill me.
Oikawa: he did throw someone off the bridge once.
Matsukawa: fuck you, goatman!
Oikawa: Jesus Christ.
Kunimi: *behind the camera snickering as mattsun taunts the goatman much to oikawa’s dismay*
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Matsukawa: hey demons, it’s me, ya boi.
Matsukawa: if you want to eat my heart, turn that light on. If you want to eat oikawa’s heart, turn that light on...
Oikawa: don’t drag me into your shit, mattsun.
*torch turns on*
Oikawa: *screams*
Matsukawa: *laughs hysterically as he continues to lie on the pentagram*
Kunimi: *actual wheezing*
Matsukawa: i think this demon’s a wimp.
Oikawa: he’s out of his fucking mind.
Kunimi: *having the time of his life*
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Oikawa: every human's capable of murder if you push them enough. i just don't know if this is enough of a push.
Iwaizumi: okay.
Oikawa: it's true!
Iwaizumi: is that so?
Oikawa: yeah.
Oikawa: i bet you you would murder me if I pushed you enough.
Iwaizumi: yeah, probably.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Tsukishima: …
Tsukishima: so, you're telling me, at nine years old, you don’t go to church. the first time you cross the threshold into holy ground,
Nishinoya: *makes noise and imitates blood coming out of his nose*
Tsukishima: blood expels from your nostrils?
Nishinoya: yeah, yeah. they ran outta tissues! mopping that up.
Tsukishima: …
Nishinoya: it was wild!
Tsukishima: it sounds wild.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Kuroo: i think it was the neighbor. look, i’m a simple man. i see a trail of blood going to someone's house. even if they didn't do it, come on; you're going to jail.
Kenma: i think it might've been a random person.
Kuroo: all right.
Kenma: it just seems too obvious.
Kuroo: okay.
Kenma: there's a paper trail of their feud. why the hell would he be that dumb?
Kuroo: rage, you know? lust, rage. rage just- just building up, bursting out.
Kenma: well, i've never really gotten that angry. i don't really have that capacity.
Kuroo: it's building. it's building inside you. everyone sees it; we all see it.
Kenma: that's great. oh man, i can't wait for krakatoa then.
Kuroo: *shuddering* oh- oh- i shudder.
Kenma: hope no one's in the way 😺
Kuroo: …
Kuroo: scary.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Daichi: he allegedly chased his mother with an axe when he was 19.
Asahi: not great.
Daichi: (wheeze) no? not off- off to a bad start?
Asahi: no good. i’ve never done that. you didn’t do that did you?
Daichi: no! i didn't- what- is there anything to suggest that I would chase my mom with an axe?
Asahi: (inhales) not outright i feel like if you peel the layers back.
Daichi: you think if you peel the layers back from this onion, you'll see something you don’t want to see?
Asahi: yeah. i think you wear a mask sometimes 😅
Daichi: mm-hmm i think you should keep digging and maybe see what happens 🙂
Asahi: uh no i'm good 🧍🏻♂️
Daichi: *staring at asahi*
Asahi: 👁👄👁💧
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Osamu: my takeaway is people from chicago are weird.
Atsumu: the- this does not represent chicago. this is people and go "ey! chicago tylenol murders"
Osamu: (laugh) home with the beam, the cubs and the chicago tylenol murders and of course our nation's greatest tragedy, miya atsumu.
Atsumu: that- that's not me.
Osamu: i read it somewhere 🤷🏻
Atsumu: no, you didn’t, you probably wrote it.
Osamu: yeah.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Suna: i’d love to be an heiress.
Kita: (snickers)
Suna: i know she’s probably gonna disappear or something.
Kita: so you wanna be a trust fund baby?
Suna: i’d like someone to give me a lot of money for doing nothing. but i want-
Kita: and then you wanna disappear?
Suna: yes. i want to get a lot of money and then vanish from the face of the earth.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Ennoshita: her family believed that when she left at 11:30 am, she had as much as $30 in her purse, which in today’s dollars would be more than $750.
Nishinoya: holy moly!
Tanaka: that’s a lot of quiche—
Nishinoya: yeah.
Tanaka: that’s a lot of quiche.
Nishinoya: thirty bucks going that far in 1910.
Tanaka: i don’t even have $750 in my bank account.
Nishinoya: i’ve never had $750 in my pocket! i rarely have had $30 in my pocket.
Ennoshita: well i don’t really carry cash anymore-
Nishinoya & Tanaka: who does!?
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Yaku: stop number one, mothman statue.
Lev: it looks very ornate.
Yaku: *shocked that lev knows that word*
Yaku: you’ll be able to stare at it eye to eye.
Lev: what’s that supposed to mean?
Yaku: it means you’re eight feet tall, it’s a tall joke. get it?
Lev: 🧍🏼
Yaku: 🤦🏼♂️
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Akaashi: any... any thought in that so far?
Bokuto: (fart sound) nope. what year is it, ‘66?
Akaashi: ‘66.
Bokuto: few teens out there probably smoking a few funny cigarettes.
Akaashi: you could say weed. it’s 2018.
Bokuto: ...some grass.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Kageyama: so my guess is the couples were somewhere around here, maybe on that road over there.
Hinata: yeah.
Kageyama: and i'm not sure of the exact location but this is where they saw him stumbling around.
Hinata: they just… saw him kinda shambling?
Kageyama: yeah.
Hinata: big shambling man. kinda *shuffling his body*
Kageyama: i- i don’t know, maybe he was just taking a walk, i mean, what's it to you?
Hinata: why would you take a walk if you had wings?
Kageyama: he's a fucking creature, he can do what he wants.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Kuroo: but all im saying is that what you need to gather from this is that he has an effect on people's psyche.
Lev: this mothman's a complicated character.
Kuroo: what does he sound like? what does he sound like?
Lev: he sound like the blood bird.
Kuroo: …
Lev: flappy spookster.
Kuroo: …
Kuroo: that's- come on.
Kuroo: *glances over to lev's notes*
Lev: the winged wretch. did i already say that?
Kuroo: this just says fright terror.
Kuroo: *throws away the notes*
Lev: you know, just call him batman, why is that hard? 😩
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
(howling)
Goshiki: what the fuck.
Shirabu: well those are coyotes… or dogs. Or a large pack of something.
Goshiki: holy shit.
Shirabu: just some coyotes.
Goshiki: are you not fucking alarmed right now?
Shirabu: are you scared? (laugh)
Goshiki: dude wait- this goes beyond belief, that was a pack of, whatever the fuck that was.
Shirabu: it was coyotes!
Goshiki: is that our cue to leave? i think maybe. we've been out here for quite a bit.
Shirabu: yeah, i don’t know if were gonna find anything tonight.
Goshiki: i don’t wanna be in the mouth of some coyote later, that's not how i want the picture wrap on old tsutomu to be.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Atsumu: air force one? they filmed air force one here?
Atsumu: air force one actually, now that i think of it, remember the reason they hijacked the plane is to release for the-
Sakusa: i’m gonna go ahead and cut you off right there 'cause i don’t give a shit.
Sakusa: we’re gonna move over here.
Atsumu: …okay.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Kai: four people in a cell, that's a lot
Kuroo: i mean, you put any normal people in a room that's too small. like if you’re in a dorm in college, if you hate your roommate…
Kai: it's tough business
Kuroo: listening to music too loud when i'm trying to study
Kai: hwfrrrrr…
Kuroo: cookin' uhh… top ramen in the microwave when i'm trying to sleep
Kai: you got some axes to grind?
Kuroo: no.
Kai: oh
Kuroo: fuck you, daishou.
Kai: daishou?
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
(distant thud)
Yamamoto: what the fuck?
Kenma: :3
Yamamoto: is all i have to say to that.
Kenma: they didn’t like the thumb talk.
Yamamoto: you didn't like the thumb talk? was it too much thumb talk? i thought we went about two minutes long on the-
(distant thud)
Kenma: they don’t like the thumb talk.
Yamamoto: *looking around in shock*
Kenma: *stopping himself from laughing*
Yamamoto: uhhhh… holy fuck. holy fuck, holy fuck. if you’re one of the people that had that thumb thing to happen to you, that sucks. what was it like?
Kenma: what do you think you're gonna get right now? 😑
Yamamoto: i feel like we should go see what that is, to be honest.
Kenma: *shakes his head*
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Tsukishima: we’re walking over to the source of the disturbance.
Hinata: hello? (sigh) i’m gonna lose my mind. so, it did that twice within the span of 10 seconds but nothing else?
Tsukishima: but, we can confirm that it did sound like this right? *slams the cabinet door*
Hinata: yeah.
Tsukishima: that was the sound.
Hinata: do you think the wind’s gonna do that twice?
Tsukishima: *blows on the cabinet door*
Tsukishima: not moving 🙄
Hinata: well, shit.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Sugawara: oh there it is. it’s that. *pointing to where the sound was coming from*
Asahi: what?
Sugawara: there’s a logical explanation for you.
Asahi: ah! okay, there it is. well, there you go, there you go.
Sugawara: but, if we hadn’t seen that...
Asahi: if we hadn’t seen that we would be fooled 😅
Sugawara: no, we wouldn’t have been fooled. you would have been telling me for months.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
*inside the prisoners of ohio state penitentiary*
Kageyama: this is fucking terrible.
Tsukishima: it’s the opportunity of a lifetime to be here.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Tendou: i’m separating from the group.
Semi: it’s the ideal time to kill him.
Tendou: yeah i mean, if i were gonna die in camera it would be a pretty noble thing.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Osamu: I don’t understand what’s wrong with atsumu sometimes.
Atsumu: what was that?
Osamu: i didn’t say anything.
Atsumu: you sure you didn’t say anything, ‘samu?
Osamu: now go back and set ‘em off to make sure they work.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Sakusa: *inhales*
Atsumu: *inhales*
Sakusa: you need to back up from me. i can feel your air intake. it’s like a gross nasal jet, i don’t know.
Atsumu: *takes a step towards sakusa*
Sakusa: uh no *takes a step backwards*
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Futakuchi: latch yourself onto my soul, come back to hollywood with me, and destroy the lives of all my friends and coworkers.
Koganegawa: a little hard to follow, but i like where you’re going.
Futakuchi: kogane’s family has a little-
Koganegawa: ey! ey! do-! do-! don’t!
Futakuchi: -dog named mickey.
Koganegawa:*trying to stop futakuchi*
Futakuchi: real good. you wanted me to give it my all. i’m throwing stuff on the table.
Koganegawa: insults, not personal information. you’re giving him a dossier on my life!
TAG LIST
@halesandy @lina @babyshoyo @midnightsun30 @polaris-song @kac-chowsballs @sugawaraaaa
just answer this form to be added to my tag list!
#incorrect haikyuu quotes#haikyuu x reader#tendou x reader#ushijima x reader#matsukawa x reader#oikawa x reader#kunimi x reader#iwaizumi x reader#tsukishima x reader#nishinoya x reader#kuroo x reader#kenma x reader#daichi x reader#asahi x reader#osamu x reader#atsumu x reader#suna x reader#kita x reader#tanaka x reader#ennoshita x reader#yaku x reader#lev x reader#akaashi x reader#bokuto x reader#kageyama x reader#hinata x reader#goshiki x reader#shirabu x reader#sugawara x reader#sakusa x reader
575 notes
·
View notes
Text
title — a clouded fate
pairing — badboy!mark lee x female reader
featuring — lucas wong/wong yukhei, johnny seo, lee taeyong, nakamoto yuta (mentioned), lee donghyuck (mentioned)
word count — 17.2k
overall warnings — extreme drug use, drug dealing, alcohol use, language, religion, addiction, drug overdose, vomiting, one explicit smut scene
smut warnings — fingering, protected sex (stay safe, always!), high sex, corruption kink for like 0.2 seconds, degradation
collab — bad boy bingo collab, link here
lyrics inspiration — “call it quits, call it destiny.” bruno major, easily ; “gotta stay high all the time, to keep you off my mind.” tove lo, habits
writing playlist — link here
author’s message — oh my gosh, it’s finally here! this has been a work in progress basically ever since early summer, when i started writing on this blog. this is one of my favorite pieces i’ve ever written, but not because writing it came easy to me; quite the opposite. i scrapped and rewrote this three times, consulted many people for their opinions because i simply didn’t think that it was good.
a few thank you’s: my babe @jensungf for reading the first draft when it was at barely 5k, the lovely @ncteaxhoe for reading it at 7k and also the night i finished it, @taempteng the writing god for proofing it for me, and my amazing @starlit-jeno for getting me through everything. also thank you @legendnct for hosting this collab! it’s finally at a place where i am happy and very very proud of what i’ve written. i hope you all read and enjoy!
—DAY ONE.
The ice cold water thrown over him shocks Mark awake from his post-high sleep.
“What the hell, man?” He exclaims, wiping the water from his face as he sits up in his bed, soaked t-shirt sticking to the curve of his clavicles. His eyes meet the source of the intrusion: his roommate and best friend Lucas, holding a now empty pitcher.
“Dude. It’s past noon. Wake up.”
Lucas’ passive words only make Mark furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. “Shut the fuck up bitch, I’m awake.”
“Someone’s feisty today.” Lucas retorts, tossing Mark a towel as he swings his legs over the bed. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he recognizes his best friend’s chastising tone in his diluted ears. “When did you get back last night? What were you doing?”
“Calm down,” Mark groans, the volume of Lucas’ voice beginning to hurt his head. Running a hand through his now wet hair, he responds, “I was smoking with Yuta. Got back around three in the morning.”
“Yuta,” mumbles Lucas. “You know, I don’t like him. You’re always with him, getting high or something. Exams start soon, and you’re not planning to study at all? You’ve been high every day for what, like, the past two weeks?”
This early morning lecture is enough to cause Mark’s irritation to spike. Since when is Lucas so nitpicky? Last time he checked, Lucas enjoys partying just as much as he does. Sometimes, even more than Mark himself. “Fuck, are you my roommate or my mom?”
“I’m your best friend, is what I am. I’m worried about you. All you do is party, get high, and sleep. When was the last time you even ate?” Before Mark can even think back to answer that, Lucas continues, “You’ve been like this since you broke up with Y/N, and—”
Mark cuts him off. “Don’t say her name.”
“You’re hurting, Mark. And this isn’t the right way to handle it.”
“Oh, so you take one psychology course and you think you’re an expert or something,” Mark scoffs.
This seems to stunt his roommate for a second, before he sighs looking down at the image of his best friend sitting on the edge of his bed, gaunt eyes and all. The last time he saw his friend looking so pitiful was when his dad had passed. “I’m just worried about you. You should let me be, sometimes,” replies Lucas quietly.
“I’m an adult,” says Mark, which causes Lucas to scoff and respond, “Then act like one.” Annoyed, Mark stands and instead takes a seat at his desk chair.
The taller male speaks up once again, starting to tear off Mark’s bed sheets that are now wet. “You need to stop. This isn’t good for you. Stop the drugs and tell Johnny you’re done. Study for your finals. Get your act together, stop acting like an idiot, and go get her back.”
When he finishes stripping the sheets and looks up, Mark’s head is in his hands. “It’s not that easy.”
“You love her.”
“But that doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together,” Mark finally says as he looks up, voice raised in frustration at both the situation and the fact that his best friend is calling him out for it. “We can’t be together,” he declares. “I’m only going to ruin her. She’s good. I’m bad. She has a future. I don’t. She’s everything I’m not and I can’t mess it up for her. Not after... Not after—” Lucas cuts his friend off, sensing that he’s about to start hyperventilating.
“I know. What happened, you can’t change it. It was your fault. But don’t say you’re not meant to be together. Nothing’s going to change the past. You broke up. But nothing’s going to bring you back together but yourself.”
Mark stares at Lucas with tired, red-rimmed eyes, wondering when his tall goofy friend had grown so much. Has everything around him changed, matured, while he stayed the same?
“How do I do that?” He finally relents.
“Make yourself good enough for her. Start with the drugs. Stop doing them.”
He knows the truth in that statement, but doesn’t want to acknowledge it. It’s a lot easier said than done. With no words to say, Mark stands and starts to walk past his friend toward the bathroom. On the way out, he accidentally kicks his guitar, on the floor propped on the wall. “Fuck,” he curses, looking down at the old wooden thing.
Lucas follows him out as he leaves the room, and Mark steps into the bathroom. Opening the mirror cabinet, he pulls out his prescription bottle which shakes with noise. Silently he pops a pill into his mouth and swallows it with a handful of tap water. It’s probably a bad idea on an empty stomach, but he’ll eat whatever Lucas is making right after.
“That includes the Xanax, Mark!” Lucas’ voice calls from the kitchen.
“Baby steps,” he responds, staring endlessly into the pitiful character watching him in the mirror.
—THE FIRST NIGHT
It isn’t his first party, but it’s his first college party. There’s a big difference.
The scale is larger, the alcohol more plentiful. And more importantly, the shame of being under the influence is nonexistent. His ziploc of kush feels heavy in his pocket, but he knows he’ll feel lighter with its effect later on. School’s only been in session a week, yet Mark’s already decided he likes university more than high school.
He hasn’t smoked yet, but clearly others have, from the haze wafting from room to room. The music is loud, the air is musty, and there’s a cloud of visible smoke surrounding a group of people in the corner. He can smell it now, the familiar scent relaxing him in a new environment.
He’s about to venture out to said group, catching Lucas’ ashy gray hair (a horrible decision, really) sticking out from its inhabitants, but then something catches his eye.
In a room of dark gray smoke and purple LED lights, a white dress catches his attention. He turns his head and, faded by the blurred intensity of the smoke, there you are. Leaning with your back against the wall, alone. You’re not doing much, just standing there in your awkward lonesome looking entirely out of place while swirling the contents of your red cup in your hand. With seemingly no move to drink it, you’re staring blankly into said cup, and Mark stares blankly at you. The white fabric of your dress seems to vividly attract the iridescent purple lights of the party, leaving you to stand out in the massive crowd. Though from the way you stand out from the crowd, it seems that that’s the last thing you want to do; you’d rather blend into the scene.
But you don’t. You’re a beacon of white light in the gray bleakness of the party, and Mark contemplates his next action. He had promised Lucas that he’d be his wingman to try and win over Yuqi. But there’s something about you that pulls him.
Oh well, he muses to himself as he slides across the room toward you. It’s not his fault Lucas needs a wingman to talk to girls, and he doesn’t.
“Hey,” he starts, trying to make himself heard above the music. “You’re staring at that thing like you need a refill.”
At the sound of his voice you look up as though suddenly startled. Then your eyes land on him and Mark’s not entirely sure if he’s sane, but you relax. “No thanks,” you respond politely. “I don’t drink.”
“Really?” Mark glances at his red Solo cup, half filled with some sordid mixture of vodka and Fanta that Doyoung had given him earlier.
“Is that strange?” You ask curiously as he makes move to lean on the wall next to you. Except rather than lean his back to it, he presses his shoulder to the wall to face you.
“A bit.” Mark says as he tilts his head back, pressing the red cup to his lips as he downs the rest of the liquid in his cup.
“Maybe. I’ve learned that there are more people who drink in college than people who don’t… I guess I fall into the second category.” When he finishes his drink, he tosses it over his shoulder.
“Nah,” he says in response. “I don’t really drink either. Only occasionally. I’m already a mess with the weed, imagine how much I’d be if I was an alcoholic.” He nearly expects you to laugh at his lame attempt at being playful, but he’s met with silence. Still, he doesn’t miss the way your eyebrows quirk slightly upward at his words. Right now, dark hair tousled and dark ripped jeans decorating his legs, Mark thinks he looks pretty good. But you don’t seem to be as interested as girls in the past.
“You smoke…” Your words trail and Mark finds himself enraptured by the form of your lips as you talk. His mind flies, but you continue, “How’s that like?”
He shrugs. “It’s nothing, really. Just fun. I have some right now if you want,” he says, patting his jean pocket.
“Oh, no,” you immediately recoil, as if it were preposterous. Immediately your eyes widen and you shake your head at him. “Not-not that people who do it are bad or anything! It’s just… not my thing.”
If you didn’t drink or enjoy any substances, what were you doing here? He asks this aloud.
“My roommate dragged me,” you explain. “We’ve only been living together for a week since the year started but she’s… something else. I’ve seen her smoke more than I’ve seen her study.”
You almost sound scared. This causes a laugh to leave his lips, and yours. He’s finding, in the mere two minutes of conversation you’ve made, that you are very different from the girl he thought you were across the room. You were indeed like your dress that attracted him: bright, pure, and comfortable.
And he wants you.
Your silence brings about Mark’s introduction. “I’m Mark, by the way.” His hand stretches out to you and you stare for a second.
“Y/N.” You place your hand in his, and from the jolt he feels in his heart, the first of its kind, that is the first time that Mark Lee believes in the existence of fate.
—FIVE HOURS CLEAN.
If someone had told Mark in his freshman year of high school that he would become a drug dealer in college, he would have directed them to his father’s church and told them to pray a bit.
Yes, prior to his entrance to adulthood and the cruel, cruel world, Mark Lee was a church boy. A good boy. He did well in school, dedicated his weekends to church and playing basketball with his boys. Up and down the high school halls, his signature laugh could be heard at any moment he wasn’t in class.
Then the summer before his senior year, Pastor Lee passed from cancer and Mark’s boisterous laughter became a long forgotten sound.
It was two weeks after his dad’s funeral that he met Donghyuck, a boy with shady eyes who offered him some kush. Just want to try it, Mark had tried to reason with his conscience when he took that first hit behind the school. Then he fell into the fatal world of drugs and partying. Lucas had been there since their junior high days, sad to see his friend fall so poorly, and he had forced Mark to get his shit together for graduation that year. Barely.
So yes, he was once the bright eyed boy he always wanted to be, who read the Bible front to back and wouldn’t have known how to roll a joint, but that was fantasy. He wasn’t that anymore. He’s a college student trying to get along with the little money he can make from selling weed and other things. He had first gotten into this when he met Johnny Seo, two years above him who could tell that Mark was struggling to make tuition and rent with a job at McDonald’s. Now Johnny has graduated and Mark is still doing his dirty work for him.
That’s exactly what he’s doing now, standing outside Taeyong’s house a little past 6PM with a pouch of kush in his bag.
It’s easy money, but that never calms his nerves.
Even when the door opens to reveal Taeyong, shirtless and red hair in disarray, Mark doesn’t stop bouncing his foot in worry. His restlessness isn’t lost on Taeyong, who had obviously just woken up. “It’s 6PM,” Mark says, eyebrow raised at his appearance.
“I was up all night working on a track.” Taeyong’s eyes flicker to Mark’s bouncing foot. “You’re bouncier than normal,” he comments as he counts his bills in his hand.
“Haven’t had my fix today.” Mark explains simply as the older male hands over a wad of cash. As he counts it silently, Taeyong points his thumb over his shoulder to his living room.
“Wanna come in and hit some?”
Mark looks up at his offer and sighs inwardly. It would be rather easy to just give in and smoke a bit with someone he trusted, and he wouldn’t even be paying for the weed. He’s tempted. After weeks of being stoned nearly every day, he’s starting to itch for a fix. But Lucas’ gruff voice rings in his mind and he knows that if he gives in, only five hours in, he’ll never be able to live with himself. So for now he does it for Lucas, but maybe in time he’ll see that it was for himself after all.
“I’m good.” Mark nearly shoves the pouch of green into Taeyong’s grasp, wanting to be away from it as soon as possible. The red-haired recipient only blinks.
“You’re giving it up or something?”
“Or something,” mumbles Mark sullenly, tucking his hands into his pockets.
“That’s good,” Taeyong declares after a short silence. Mark looks up, meeting Taeyong’s suddenly sincere eyes. “Good for you. I really couldn’t believe that you got into that stuff with Johnny’s crowd anyways.” Mark only shrugs in response. He’d long since stopped deliberating over that. This is his life now. “Still doing music?”
“In name, yeah, I’m still a music major. But I don’t have time to play.” The last time he touched his guitar was this morning when he had kicked it. The last time before that… he doesn’t know if he can’t remember due to a marijuana induced haze or if it’s because it really has been that long.
Taeyong continues. “You know, you don’t have to do this stuff. You’re a talented guy, you’re strong. If you could dedicate yourself to your music like you do to dealing, you wouldn’t need to deal.”
This brings about a sigh from Mark. Who is Taeyong to tell him what to do, anyways? Last time he checked, he was the customer, not Mark. “You all make it sound so easy.”
“Trust me. You can do it.”
—THE FIRST KISS
The first time Mark kisses you, it’s cold outside.
He’s walking you back to your sharehouse, down the streets of town, when he asks, “Be honest with me and tell me if that date sucked.”
It’s been a couple weeks since the two of you first met that fated night at Doyoung’s party, and you’ve only now allowed him to take you out on a date. He doesn’t know that it’s your first. Well, in some ways, it’s his also.
Mark’s been on a few dates, sure, but those all ended up with him getting his dick wet in the dark parking lot of a Burger King or something. He’d normally take them out for fast food, and finish with the usual fun stuff in his back seat. This time it’s… different. Not only does he figure that you wouldn’t be down for that type of date, but something in him wants it to be different. The only problem is he doesn’t know how to plan a good date.
He still took you out to get McDonalds’, but instead of retreating to the backseat, he drove the two of you to the movie theatre. It was probably a dumb choice of him in hindsight, deciding to watch an action movie, but something about the way you hid your face into his neck when one of the characters got punched out made him smile.
“No, it wasn’t… bad,” you respond, swinging your interlaced hands. You had surprised him earlier when you had grabbed his hand upon exiting his car, curling your fingers together.
“You’re lying,” he sighs.
“No, I’m not. Really,” you reassure him as the two of you approach the door of your home. After all, how can you have a bad date when you’ve never been on a date before? You have nothing to compare it to. “I had a good time. Actually… it was my first date.”
Mark blinks, having not expected that to be so. A groan leaves his lips as his free hand comes up to run through his hair. “Oh god, and I ruined it.”
“No, no, it was perfect. I wouldn’t change it for anything.” You smile a sickeningly sweet, charming smile at him, and he sighs. You’re too good for a guy like him.
He’s beyond surprised actually—even though you know of his habits, his hobby of wasting time and rolling joints, you haven’t run away like others. And he likes you. A lot. Even though everything tells him that what he does is bad for you, he still wants you. You’re a comfortable presence in his life.
“You know,” you suddenly start. Mark looks up, intrigued. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
He wonders if the surprise on his face is painfully evident. “Really? Like, ever?”
His question is met with a shake of your head, and he blinks. So you’ve never drank or smoked. That, he can believe. But the fact that you’ve never kissed anyone? Sometimes… you shock him with your boldness. Like earlier when you grabbed his hand and at your first meeting when you had asked for his phone number before he could. But in some moments like now, he realizes just how the duality of your personality comes into play.
“Why’s that?”
You shrug. “I don’t know, it never really felt right,” you explain as the two of you approach your doorstep. As he escorts you up the steps and to your front door, he furrows his brows deeper. Why were you telling him this?
“Does it feel right, now?” He asks softy, gaze flickering to your interlaced hands as he turns to face you. His hand reaches forward, cupping your cheek, the touch soft despite the callused skin of his hands.
“Yes,” you respond gently, simpering smile on your roseate tiers.
The smile on your face is sweet and pure, two words that Mark isn’t.
A flood of relief shows on Mark’s face, and you bite down on your lower lip as excitement bubbles in your stomach. “Can I kiss you?” A response quickly follows. For some reason he can’t quite figure out, you let him into the maze that is you. Despite the leather jacket, his messy hair, and the lingering smell of weed on his clothes, you want him just as much as he wants you. Even though you both know that he isn’t the type of guy that you normally like, the type of guy that your mother would approve of, you trust him. It’s bewildering to him.
Then he guides you to him. Within seconds his lips are on yours, and you melt into him. It’s surely not Mark’s first kiss but it feels like it. The initial awkwardness, then the heat on his cheeks as you both fall into a rhythm. It feels right, like it was meant to be, just as Mark had hoped.
You’re like the kind of irreplicable drug that Mark has sought after for years. The kind that brings a euphoric high which burns his lungs and twists his stomach, but in all the right ways.
—29 HOURS CLEAN.
The smell filling the kitchen leads Lucas to scrunch his nose in distaste when he exits his room. “Dude, what the hell is that smell?”
His answer lies in the pan on the stove and Mark standing in the kitchen, wielding a wooden spoon. Clad in only basketball shorts, he looks absolutely foreign to the environment. Lucas sighs. “Please tell me you’re not boiling crack right here in our kitchen.”
The face the Korean makes is scandalized. “What—no, what the fuck? It’s mapo tofu. I’d be insane to try and make crack cocaine.” He adds under his breath, “In the apartment.”
Lucas leans back against the counter, cocking an eyebrow. “Then why are you cooking mapo tofu of all things? I haven’t seen you eat anything but ramen and eggs probably since we moved in here. And—put on a shirt if you’re cooking, or an apron at least. You look like a caveman.”
“Well,” sounds Mark with a roll of his eyes at his friend’s expected lecturing. “I had a shirt on, but I spilled some spicy shit on it and took it off. And I,” he pauses, turning off the stove. “I thought we could eat your favorite food together before we head out to Hendery’s party. You know, as a… sorry for being a bitch yesterday apology.”
The taller man narrows his eyes, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to make sense of his best friend’s words. “So you… decided to make my favorite food because you felt bad that I had to wake you up and take care of your shit?”
“I guess, yeah.”
Lucas laughs, a deep sound, whilst shaking his head. “Dude, I’ve been doing that since middle school and you’re only apologizing now?”
Mark purses his lips, making a face of annoyance. “Better late than never.”
“I guess. But sorry, I wouldn’t want to eat your mapo tofu anyways. Smells more like my week’s laundry than food. Maybe next time just order from that Chinese place around the corner that I actually like,” advises Lucas.
A pitiful laugh leaves Mark’s lips. “Duly noted.”
“And anyways, I’m not going to Hendery’s party. I have plans.” This causes Mark to finally take a good look at his friend. He’s normally well-dressed, but tonight he looks even better, a little too fancy for the typical college frat party. Before Mark can even question what these other plans are, Lucas explains, “I have a date with—”
“Yuqi,” finishes Mark for him. “Figured.” Lucas grabs his wallet on the counter, nodding before tucking it into his pant pocket. “Is that why you haven’t been partying with us? Or why you’ve suddenly been on this, ‘Mark, sobriety is key’ rant?” Mark questions, lowering his voice to imitate that of his roommate’s. At Lucas’ silence, Mark scoffs. “Dude, your relationship is so fucked up, how many times are you guys going to try to make it work when it doesn’t?”
All that leaves Lucas is a sigh, but Mark continues. “This is what, your third breakup so far? And fourth time trying to make it work?”
“Some things are worth the effort,” replies Lucas easily, slipping on his shoes. As he reaches to tie his laces, Mark continues, “She takes up all of your time now, you haven’t hung with us in months, and all for a relationship that’s destined to fail.”
“Nothing’s destined to fail, Mark. It’s all about how hard you’re willing to work for it.” His voice is calm, but there’s something building beneath it. To this, Mark sighs, and says, “You’ve changed, man.”
Lucas grabs his keys, clearly at the limit with Mark’s prodding. “Sometimes people are worth changing for, Mark. Yuqi forgave me for what I did, and I forgave her for what she did. We’re trying, okay? We’re not walking away. I’m sure…” The taller male pauses on his words, as though contemplating them, before continuing. “I’m sure Y/N would’ve forgiven you for what you did, but you walked away. And that’s where we’re different.”
It hits him, and Mark tightens his jaw. Yes, his relationship with Y/N was destined to fail too, there was no denying it. To fight with his friend who he had just tried to make amends with, or apologize? He goes with the latter, only because he’s too exhausted for a yelling match right now. “Lucas, I’m sorry, okay? I’m a little… on edge.”
“I know. I’ve known you for years,” chuckles Lucas softly. “I know how you get.”
“Yeah. Have fun on your date, though.”
His best friend nods tightly. “Yeah, I will. But if you care about what I told you, don’t go to the party tonight. You know you won’t be able to control yourself.” Mark nods, sighing. “And throw out that mapo tofu while you’re at it. It stinks, and not in the good way mapo tofu’s supposed to smell.”
Mark rolls his eyes while Lucas’ laugh fills his ears. “Just leave already.”
With a few smooth movements he’s already slid out the apartment door. A sigh leaves him, alone in the apartment. He does as Lucas says, tossing his attempt at dinner in the trash. It’s gonna be a long night.
—THE FIRST TASTE.
The first time that you kiss Mark, however, it’s hot inside his apartment and sweat sticks the fabric of your tank top to your stomach.
That doesn’t stop you from cuddling on his couch however, and you gaze up at him from your position under his arm to watch as your boyfriend, focused on the TV, lifts his blunt to his lips and takes a long drag. Underneath his arm, you observe how his lips wrap around the circumference of it, sucking in a sharp breath before releasing it into the air. He knows that over your time together, you’ve come to accept the smoking. It’s obviously clear to him that you don’t particularly approve, but Mark’s responsible enough to control himself. Now however, as you gaze up at him, you realize just how attractive your boyfriend is. Dark hair tousled and arms bared through his tank top, he looks so, so good. Somehow, he looks even better with the cig in his hand.
You never would have thought you’d fall for such a guy like him, but you keep falling. He’s not the good guy that you dreamed of, but that’s okay, because you make him good.
“Mark?” You ask, still looking up at him.
He hums in response, turning to look at you.
Your voice is soft as you ask, “Do you believe in destiny?”
Your boyfriend blinks at the sudden question. “Define destiny.”
“That like, we all have a predetermined fate. That everything happens for a reason, and every challenge is just a small piece in a bigger puzzle. That we all have soulmates we’re destined to be with.” Mark’s lips purse, pouting just the slightest in thought, a habit of his.
Does he?
It’s a question, because he used to. He used to be a good old Christian boy, of course he believed that God had a plan for everyone. Every tribulation was just something that would make him stronger in the end. Unfortunately, the last time Mark can remember being at church, he fucked one of the choir girls in the Bible study room.
He can’t really pinpoint when he stopped believing in fate. God? Yeah, sure he still believes in him, though the big guy upstairs will probably send him south for his irrefutable sins. But fate? Not really. If fate was real then it was really messed up to make him such a failure.
But, he realizes, gazing at the strands of hair matted to your forehead as a result of the hot summer weather, and the pure adulation in your eyes as you gaze up to him, that perhaps because of you, his destiny isn’t too bad. Sure, he’s a fuck up with addictions and demons, but he does pretty well by keeping you happy. Because you make him happy. A smooth, suave smile spreads across his lips like butter. “I didn’t before, but I do now.”
Your eyebrow perks up. “Now you do? Why’s that?”
His arm wrapped lazily around your shoulders allows him to pull your face close. With the same smile, he presses a number of kisses to your cheek (much to your sweet protest, complaining about his sweat and smoke). As though he attempts to mask his words against your skin, he mumbles, “Because I found you.”
Mark has never told you that he loves you; it’s a bit too intimate for him, who’s never been vulnerable in that way, and you, whose every first is him.
But he doesn’t have to say it, because you know it.
Your lips break out into a flustered smile, though you try to hide it from him. His quiet, unsaid confession fills you with glee and more importantly, confidence.
“Babe,” you tell him. This grabs his attention, because you rarely use such sweet nicknames. He attempts to respond, but you’re already sitting up and swinging yourself over to straddle his lap. Your movement brings about confusion on his features, and you take a deep breath. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this position with him, but the first time you’ve made the initiative to do it yourself. Mark was always leading you. So you lean forward, placing your hands on his shoulders, and you kiss him.
You can probably taste the smoke on your tongue, but you’ve grown accustomed to that. Mark kisses back and grips your waist with his free hand, both shocked and amused by your sudden courage. Everything feels right, it’s like it’s destiny. He’s about to slip his tongue into your mouth but you break the connection, choosing instead to linger your lips over his. Your breath is hot on his as you finally speak.
“I want a puff.”
“Are you sure?” He looks up at you, nearly breathless at the sight of you atop him. Lip gloss smeared from your heated kiss, you look delectable. Your wide eyes, once depicting innocence, are now focused and curious. He knows you don’t necessarily approve of his habits, but here you are, sitting on top of him looking irresistible and asking for a taste.
“Yes,” you confirm, as though reassuring yourself. Mark had always liked you, been attracted to you because of the notion that you were innocent, pure, bright. Everything he was not. He had never wanted to taint you, yet his confession still hangs in the air.
But as he lifts his blunt to his mouth, taking a long drag before blowing the diluted smoke into your waiting cavern, he starts to worry that this would be the beginning of a long downward spiral which would place no blame anywhere but on him.
—44 HOURS CLEAN.
The withdrawal forces him from his sleep at 5AM.
Mark wakes in a cold sweat, itching for a fix. That’s when he realizes how deep he really is.
Shit.
His fingers are shaking, so he moves to occupy them with the only thing he can think of. He drags himself out of bed, grabs his guitar, and makes his way out to the living room. Plopping himself down on the floor next to a window, he attempts to refamiliarize himself with the strings that he had abandoned. Lucas is still asleep, so he plucks quietly.
He has long since forgotten what it was like to lose himself in the sound.
There was once a time when he was passionate for something other than haze. It was music. The first time he touched a guitar, magic sprung through his fingers and he knew: he was made for this. Somehow, majoring in music composition and being forced to take so many theory and history classes had caused his passion to simmer. Now, it slowly burns again.
He doesn’t realize how the hours pass and the sun begins to shine between the blinds.
His mind brushes over what Taeyong had told him two days ago. Is this what he had been missing all this time? All the hours he spent blinded by a foggy smoked haze, had he been neglecting his own love for music? It’s amazing what he can accomplish when he takes a break from that life.
He starts to feel like the old Mark again.
For a second, he stops strumming and directs his gaze to outside the window. There’s not much to see except the college town, with the glimpse of the university itself just atop the hill, but he stares and relishes in the sight of the sunlight casting a glow over the town.
A knock on the door interrupts his deliberations.
A glance to the clock tells him it’s barely 9AM. Who would be here so early? There are two options, he decides as he stands from the floor to stretch his legs, resting his guitar on the wall. It’s either Yuqi, Lucas’ renowned off-again on-again girlfriend, or Johnny coming to deliver the week’s set.
When he opens the door, the visitor’s face is blocked by a box, but he knows those shoes. Those white ballet flats with purple bows were always your favorite.
Suddenly the box lowers and Mark is finally face to face with you, his ex-girlfriend. He hasn’t seen your face in the months since you’ve called it quits, even though he’s spent countless moments just staring at the leftover pictures on his phone. You look surprised to see him.
“Oh—Mark. Lucas said you probably wouldn’t be awake.” So you had been keeping in touch with Lucas? This is news to him. Had his best friend been sharing that he had been basically wasting away the past few months without you?
“Couldn’t sleep,” explains Mark almost sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. For a moment he’s glad he had the mind to put on a shirt before coming outside.
“Oh…” You trail, your gaze traveling down to the box absentmindedly.
He doesn’t mean to be rude, but the surprise at seeing you on his doorstep makes him a bit gruff. You’re still the same as before: same face, same shoes, same bright eyes. But there’s something about you, about your aura that’s different. More mature. More independent. Because you don’t need him anymore. “What are you doing here?”
If you’re taken aback by his coarseness, you don’t show it. “I brought a box of your stuff. It’s just... stuff that was left at my house.” You gesture to the box in your hands, and Mark is quick to take it from your arms. He prays you don’t take note of the way his hands shake.
Slowly he places it on the floor next to the door and when he stands again, you’re leaning back and forth on your heels looking rather awkward. He doesn’t ask for an explanation but you give one anyways. You had always had a habit of talking too much when you felt nervous. “I’ve had it since...” Your breakup, but neither of you want to say it. “I put it together a couple months ago but put off bringing it over. But I figured, uh, the school year’s over in a couple weeks so I should just do it. I texted Lucas, he said he’d be awake to grab it but..”
“He’s still asleep,” Mark completes for you.
“Yeah,” you say simply. No longer having a box to occupy your hands, you hold them behind your back which only furthers the idea that you’re uncomfortable in his presence. It makes him sad almost, how much things have changed.
He thinks back to what Lucas had told him at the start of the weekend. Maybe it was possible to change things back to the way they used to be. “Do you want to come inside? I have some coffee, or some—”
You look at him with blinking eyes. “I don’t dr—”
“I know.” He knows you don’t drink coffee. Of course he does. “I have tea. It’s even peppermint, your favorite.”
“You drink peppermint tea?” You look at him, incredulous.
“I don’t. It’s leftover from when I bought it for you. I just... haven’t thrown it out yet.”
That’s what your love had done to him: turned him from a brooding boy into a softened man, so much that he was willing to keep your favorite drink around just in case you’d ever come back and want it.
“Oh,” you sound. Your teeth bite down gently on your bottom lip, gnawing it in contemplation as you look away from him momentarily. When you look back, he can see you’ve made your decision. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Mark. I’m sorry.”
He expected it, but it doesn’t sting any less. “That’s okay. I understand.” An attempt at a smile is displayed on his face, but it doesn’t reflect any of the radiance in the smile that you mirror back at him. It’s small, the tips of your lips barely lifting, but it’s enough to remind him that you are indeed all that is good in the world, and he needs you. He loves you.
Maybe he can’t love you right now but one day, he’ll be good enough to deserve you. That day isn’t today, but it’ll come eventually. “I’ll see you around,” you say to him.
“I hope so,” is his response.
You give him another small smile before turning to leave. “I hope you’re doing okay, Mark.”
He is, or he’s trying to. When you leave, he closes the door and returns the box to his bedroom before opening it up. Inside, numerous hoodies gifted to you because they became too small for him but were still huge on you. Old songbooks from his high school days that he no longer needed. A teddy bear he had gifted you on your first anniversary.
Pushing the box aside, he grabs a notebook and his music theory textbook. Maybe it actually would do him some good to study.
—THE FIRST TEAR.
“What the hell, Mark?”
You don’t curse often, so when you do, it wakes him. When you find him in his room, he’s knocked out with his body half on the bed and the other half slung over the edge. His hair sticks out in numerous fluffy tufts over his pillow, but you can still smell the weed off of him.
“He only came back like, three hours ago.” He hears Lucas’ voice selling him out, and he groans into the pillow, only lifting his head to grumble at his roommate.
“Snitch bitch,” he says, his voice groggy and scratched.
“Don’t get mad at him,” you suddenly speak up. “At least he answered my calls when I was calling, worried where you were because you hadn’t texted me since,” you stop to check your phone. “5PM last night!”
“I told you, I was going to Johnny’s party,” responds Mark, sitting up in his bed, head still spinning. Rubbing his eyes, he sits up, looking rather disheveled and hungover.
“Yeah, and you never texted me to let me know you were home. How would I have known if you had overdosed, or passed out drunk, or got in a car accident? Or just died?” As your voice rises, reaching a volume you’ve rarely ever employed, you clear your throat to calm yourself and turn to Lucas. “Thanks, Lucas. I appreciate it.”
“Any time,” he responds, giving a nod before walking away, likely disappearing into his room.
When you turn back to gaze into Mark’s room, he’s slipped on a shirt. “What the hell were you doing out so late? 9AM is when you should be waking up, Mark, not falling asleep. Finals are next week, you were supposed to meet me at the library an hour ago!”
He makes an annoyed expression at your chastising, and you gaze at him with expectant eyes, awaiting an explanation. All he does is grimace and say, “Babe, can you like, quiet down? I’m hungover, your voice is too loud.”
Your jaw drops.
For a moment you stay like that, until you continue speaking, words coming out faster than Mark can understand them. “I’m just trying to help, Mark. You’ve partied more than you’ve studied this year, and I’m not going to let you just get away with it. Almost every weekend I have to stay up worrying about you, wondering when you’ll get home, unable to sleep until you text me that you’re home and okay.”
“Maybe you should stop worrying then,” he retorts.
“Maybe stop giving me reasons to worry?”
He rolls his eyes, laying back in his bed. “Maybe you should come with me then.”
You quickly reply, “Maybe you should stop partying.”
“Maybe you should stop trying to control me,” he finally spits.
Once again, you’re rendered speechless. And when you turn your head away, focusing your gaze to the hallway instead of at him, Mark thinks he’s won. But then you sniff, an indication that your sensitive heart has once again been touched with tears. “Please,” you finally say, voice weak. This is the timbre Mark is used to hearing from you, not the tone you had used earlier when yelling at him. In this moment, he’s not sure which one he hates more. “Please stop this.”
In a swift movement you reach forward, gathering yourself on your knees before his bed. You grab his hand, pressing your lips to it as a tear makes its way down your cheek. “Please, please, please… please stop the drugs, Mark. It’s made you this… this terrible person and I know you’re not like this.” Suddenly, you’re crying into the palm of his hand while he gazes at you in surprise. “Missing dates, staying out late, yelling, I know that’s not you.”
“Y/N—”
“Please, just call Johnny and tell him you can’t do this anymore. Tell him you’re done. Please, for me.”
Your begging causes Mark’s jaw to tighten subconsciously. What you’re hoping for is a better Mark, a different person. He’s not that person that you want him to be, he can never be that way. This is how he is and how he’ll always be. This is his fate, to be a lowlife drug dealer barely passing college, and if you can’t handle it then—“You know I can’t do that. You promised you’d be here through everything, all the good and the bad.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to let you destroy yourself like this, Mark.”
He rips his hand from your grasp, causing a slight squeak of surprise to leave your lips. It’s almost as if he’s not in control of himself, because he blows up. “Can’t you just be like a good girlfriend and love me through the bad shit? I’m trying my best here.”
But is he really? Suddenly, as though empowered by some kind of intangible strength, you rise to your feet, the sadness in your eyes now quickly replaced by anger. “I do love you, that’s why I’m acting like this, you asshole!” You wipe your tears furiously with the back of your hand before glowering down at him. “But if you can’t keep your mind sober long enough to see that then call me when you can.”
He registers the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut, causing it to ring in his ears. Within the blink of an eye, you’re gone. Fate is a really messed up bitch for this.
—1 WEEK CLEAN.
It’s been a week.
A week since the last time he touched anything, though he had been tempted when Yuta invited him over for some sativa. The drinking and partying isn’t hard to let go of. It’s the weed, because it got him through the hardest days.
A week in, and he’s pretty proud of himself.
Nowadays, he tries to occupy his shaking hands with guitar or studying but he’s started playing so often that his hands are now raw and in pain. Today, because the weather’s nice outside and his fingers hurt like hell, he decides to take a walk.
It’s aimless at first, just exploring the streets around his apartment on foot. But then ten, fifteen, thirty minutes pass, and without knowing it, he’s arrived at his destination. Johnny’s place. Standing in front of the door, eyes boring into the bright red paint of the front door, Mark feels himself start to slip. No, he decides, he has to do this. This is the right thing.
A shaky knock on the door is followed by another stronger one. He waits a minute before trying again, yet as his hand lifts to place another knock on it, it slides open to reveal Johnny himself in casual wear. “Hey,” greets Johnny, giving Mark a nod. “What’s up? I told you I’d drop the next batch off at your place, you didn’t have to come out here.”
At Johnny’s question, Mark feels his breath caught in his throat. Not only is the guy taller than him and towering over him in every aspect, but he could definitely throw Mark under the bus for his own crimes. But no… he wouldn’t do that, right? He had done enough for Johnny over the past three years that he would let him off easily, surely? A gulp is heard in Mark’s throat as he straightens his position in front of Johnny.
“That’s the thing. I… I don’t want to do this anymore.”
For a moment, Mark thinks that the taller man will be angry. Johnny stands before him, eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”
“I just need to.”
Johnny immediately starts to argue, tilting his head. “You know you’re my best seller, though. No one sells as much as you, and I trust you with all the big deliveries. Who am I supposed to give the heroin to now… Ten? As if, Mark.” He scoffs, shaking his head.
“I…” Mark starts, though he stops. “I need to stop. I’ll finish the batch from this week, I promise. I only have like, two deliveries left but I just, it’s not healthy for me. And it’s not because I’m planning to sell you out or anything, or find someone else but I just can’t do this anymore.” He finds himself ranting, finding more interest in anything but Johnny’s face. “I’m not happy, I’m angry and anxious all the time, and being around the drugs only makes me want to do it more, and I just… I just can’t, John.”
When he finishes his unfiltered rant, he looks back to the taller male and tries to read his expression. Will he be angry? If his earlier debate was anything, he definitely wouldn’t let Mark off without a fight.
But instead, the older nods. “I get it. Just finish your deliveries for this week and call it done.”
Mark blinks at Johnny’s easy acquiescence. “T-That’s it? You’re not going to fight more?”
“You want me to?” Johnny asks, cocking an eyebrow that’s almost mocking.
“No, but I…”
“Thought you’d be worth the fight?”
“No, that’s not it.” Mark shakes his head. “I just…”
“Mark,” sighs Johnny, standing straight from where he had been leaning rather casually against the doorframe. “I’m not stupid, okay? I know that drug dealing is hard for you. And I’m also not oblivious, I know that you and your girlfriend broke up, okay? Yuta told me what happened with the coke, and I wasn’t surprised when you refused to sell it anymore.”
Mark frowns even deeper at the mention of it, but Johnny continues. “I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you say it’s not good for you, then it’s not good for you.”
“But…” Mark starts, but doesn’t find the words to continue. It was… that easy. “Okay. Uh, thanks, I guess. For everything?”
“Sure. Just don’t come crawling back when you can’t make rent on your McDonalds’ salary. Male strippers make pretty good money, if you’re interested.” It’s clear Johnny’s joking, so Mark rolls his eyes and laughs, though the sound is somewhat tight.
“I’d love to talk to you some more about ways to get a hustle going, but I have to go find a new dealer, and teach Ten how to stop giving weed to everyone he meets because he thinks they need a pick-me-up.” Johnny sighs, as though the life of a drug dealer is the most difficult of them all, which in Mark’s experience, it might just be.
“Alright. Uh, later, John.”
Johnny nods in acknowledgement before shutting the door. Mark breaths out a heavy breath.
That went… surprisingly well. Maybe Lucas was right, maybe it really was this easy all this time. Perhaps he had always just been the one believing that it was difficult, because he had made it so. He had been stressing over it all this time, but Johnny was more easygoing about it than he’d thought.
As he walks the path home, he thinks he deserves a reward for his endeavors. It’s a bit selfish maybe, but he opens his phone, and you’re on his speed dial.
“Hello?” You ask, voice bright as always but clearly a bit guarded from the name that had flashed across your screen.
“Y/N,” Mark breathes out. It’s only been a few days since you had swung by the apartment.
“Hey, uh… what’s up?”
He doesn’t quite know either. He had quite honestly been a bit impulsive in pressing on your contact, and now that you truly rest across the phone from him, he has no idea what his purpose was. “Um, nothing much, I just wanted to tell you…” A soft breath leaves his lips. Will you be happy for him? “I told Johnny that I quit, that I’m done.”
There’s a momentary pause on the line, and Mark begins to worry that you’ve hung up when you finally breathe out, “That’s good, Mark. I’m… I’m proud of you.”
Proud. He had only been hoping for a “good for you,” at most, but to hear that you’re proud of him, it makes him smile to the ground as he walks the trail back to his apartment. Fuck, you’ve made him weak. “Thanks.”
“I guess you really are doing well then,” you say.
When he gets home, riding the high of his successes from standing up to Johnny to calling you, he flushes his Xanax pills down the toilet and watches as they swirl away into oblivion, as if they had never existed in his life in the first place.
—THE FIRST CRASH.
Mark connects his lips to your neck and suckles on it softly, drawing a moan out of you. The sound you make goes straight to his dick, and he releases a breathy groan against your skin. “Fuck, you sound so pretty, princess.”
Princess—that’s the name he’s given you, because all he wants to do is treat you right. And he does, especially in times like these, where you feel the heat of his body on top of yours and he devours your moans in his mouth.
He currently lays between your spread legs, your combined figure lost in his bed sheets as he softly grinds his hardened core against yours. He’s still got his jeans on while you’re laying only clad in your panties, yet the feel of the denim is enough to have you moaning. You tilt your head back as a light mewl leaves your lips, your body subconsciously grinding down on his.
It had been complete heaven for the both of you when you had given him your virginity, your purity, at the beginning of this year, and since then you have been basically insatiable. You had never felt such desire for anyone before him. Now as his hands rub small circles over your clothed clit, you want him once more.
You’re shaking your head, so needy for him but he doesn’t relent, only smirking more while he continues rubbing sinful circles on your clit. “Tell me what you want.” He wants to hear your beg.
Voice soft and breathy, you say, “Please, Mark, I—”
The doorbell rings. It’s heard through the apartment and Mark groans, rolling his eyes while attempting to keep you going. “Keep going. It’s probably just Lucas forgetting his key again.”
Though the mood was momentarily killed, you both try to fall back into place. Now his fingers have left your clit, instead pulling your panties down to your midthigh. “Shit, you’re soaking,” he moans out in amazement, running a finger through your wet folds. As much as he wants to dive in and fuck you until you’re cumming all over his cock, he needs to hear your sweet voice dripping dirty words for him first. Easily, he slides a finger in, to which you groan at the stretch. But it’s not enough.
“Don’t tease me, please.”
He smirks, slowly sliding his singular digit out of your sensitive core whilst he thumbs your clit. “Go on then, princess. Tell me what you need.”
“Fuck,” you curse and he finds it so hot. “I… I want you to—”
The doorbell again. This time, Mark audibly curses. “Fucking hell,” he sighs, removing his fingers from where you need him. Instead, he moves up and places a sweet kiss on your lips. “I’ll be right back.”
He’s still fully dressed, so he simply opens the door and slips outside before closing it again behind him. As he’s walking down the hall, the doorbell rings once again, causing him to roll his eyes. God, how many times was Lucas going to lose his keys?
The person at the door, however, isn’t his roommate. It’s Johnny, holding a black gym bag. Mark already knows what it is. He runs a hand through his hair, already crazy from how you had been running your hands through it. “Hey, John,” he says, taking the bag clearly in a rush. It’s Sunday, which means Johnny’s dropping off Mark’s deliveries for the week.
“Hey, man,” greets Johnny, handing over the list. Mark doesn’t even bother to check that everything’s there, so the older man raises an eyebrow. “Busy?” He asks, eyeing Mark’s disheveled clothes and the fresh hickey on his collarbone.
“Kind of.”
“Nice. See you next week,” says Johnny with a click of his tongue and a wink, then Mark closes the door and he’s gone. Now, back to what’s important. He slings the strap over his shoulder and makes his way back to his bedroom. As soon as he enters, you look up at him with wide, anticipating eyes.
You’ve pulled your undergarments back on, much to his displeasure. Mark drops the dark bag on the floor in the corner, and your eyes find it. “Johnny came?”
“Yeah. Just dropping off for the week,” replies Mark, his mind not exactly on it as he takes off his shirt, tossing it somewhere. He moves back over your figure on the bed, lips on the curve of your breast fully intending to return things to the intensity they were at just earlier.
Though his lips trail up to meet yours and his hands begin tugging your panties back down, he can tell from the way you’re kissing him that you’re not fully there. So when you moan his name, he knows it’s not out of pleasure. “Mark,” you say softly against his lips.
“Hmm,” he responds, callused hands gripping your thighs and leading them open. He’s about to slip his hand inside your panties, but your hand stops him.
“Can I have some?” When he looks at you, your eyes are not focused on him, but the bag in the corner. Your eyes are faded, clouded as your both ascend to a place of pleasure. You… wanted drugs? Sure, he’s blown a few times in your mouth but in your relationship spanning over a year already, you’ve never directly asked for any.
His dark eyebrows furrow. “Are you sure?”
You bite down on your lip. “What’s in it?”
“I don’t know,” reveals Mark truthfully as he gets off of you and makes his way over to the package, picking it up and placing it on the bed. You’re sitting up now, peering over the bag with interest as he unzips the gym bag open. Though the exterior looks unsuspicious, the bag opens up to reveal bags of white powder and green kush.
Cocaine.
It’s dangerous. Mark gazes down at it, biting down on his lip.
“Is that… cocaine?” You ask, not unaware of the extreme drug sitting in your boyfriend’s room.
He nods, almost ashamed. “Yeah.”
A silence falls over the two of you, both just staring at the white bags. It’s almost unbearable, how much Mark wants to throw the bag away and just resume your activities, but you’re still gazing into the bag with contemplation, fear, and even… curiosity.
“So, can I have some?” You ask again.
Mark sputters for a second, blinking. “Babe. I—are you sure?”
You nod, eyes dark and curious. “Yeah.” At your confirmation, sounding like it was more to assure yourself than him, Mark stares holes into the white substance. It’s filling the bag to the brim—surely whoever he has to deliver it to won’t notice a line’s worth missing.
So it’s with steady yet hesitant hands that he pulls a pack from the bag, directing you. “Grab your credit card,” he says, walking over to his nightstand. Unzipping the bag just the slightest, he pours out a small amount. Just a little bit, he swears.
When you return to his side with your said card in your hand, he takes it from you and lines up the coke on the table. In a neat little line, it’s set up for you. “Okay,” he starts, looking at you. “Just hold down one nostril and—”
“I know how to do it. I’ve seen it at parties.” You interrupt him as you kneel, finally head level with the nightstand. It’s true; the few parties you have attended alongside your boyfriend, there’s more than enough depictions. He watches with interest as you lean forward, holding one side of your nose closed, and snort up the entire line in one go.
First, you cough into the nightstand. When you turn and look at him, you’re wiping the remaining white dust from your nose. “You okay?” Your boyfriend asks you, to which you nod. “It takes a few minutes to work.”
Again, you nod silently, sitting down on the bed and gesturing Mark to come to you. When he approaches, you lay back in his bed, looking up at him with lustful eyes. “Now, hurry up and fuck me.”
The words are so rare from you. It’s all he needs to hear, unbuckling his belt and dragging his jeans to the floor in two swift movements. Within moments he’s back on top of you, feeling your heat once again. He starts slow, pressing kisses to your stomach, breasts, and neck while waiting for the drug to take effect. He knows the exact moment that it begins to work; your pupils immediately dilate, and suddenly you’re a loose, moaning mess underneath him.
Your muscles relaxed, Mark immediately presses a long kiss to your swollen lips while dragging down your panties. He would usually opt for more foreplay, but he’s waited long enough. He pulls away for the shortest moment to slip on a condom, but before you know it he’s already flush against you again.
It feels so good, even just his touch on you. You’re so sensitive, senses heightened by the drug that you feel everything: his large hands on your breasts over your tips, his lips marking your neck. When he leads his dick to your dripping entrance, you watch in anticipation, though you’re shaking.
As he finally slides in, finally filling you up, you tilt your head back and let out a loud moan, the loudest yet. It just feels so good, you feel so full, and he’s so, so deep.
Everything is…. so good. Euphoria creeps into your headspace.
He pulls out, and you moan again. “Ah,” you gasp sharply, feeling every ridge, every muscle stretched as he slides out, only the tip inside you. Then he slams back in, causing your back to arch and your toes to curl. “Oh, fuck,” you moan out again, eyes closed tightly, lost in the pleasure.
Mark’s hand grips at your hips, eyebrows furrowed in focus as he falls into a rhythm. He would have taken some himself, but he wanted to watch you fall apart under him. Suddenly you grab at his free hand, and he intertwines your fingers. You’re squeezing him, his hand and his dick altogether, so tightly as you’re lost in your pleasure.
“Fuck, princess, you feel so good,” he moans out, closing his eyes. He immediately opens them again, not wanting to miss a second of you. “You love my cock, huh?”
Breathless, you nod without words.
“And to think, just a year ago you were an innocent little prude. Now look at you, taking my cock like the slut you are. High on my drugs, fuck—” Mark taunts, moaning aloud as you suddenly clench around him. “Fuck, you feel so tight.”
When he adds his hands to your clit, rubbing the nub in circles the way he knows you love it, the pleasure is heightened for your sensitive body. Your temperature rises, your heartbeat uncontrollable—all the telltale signs of that euphoric high.
A few minutes pass like this, you completely out of it and moaning at the top of your lungs whilst your boyfriend fades in and out of your vision. You grasp onto his arm, tilting your head back. “Mark, I’m—I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” he musters out, never stopping his hips. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like the good girl you are.”
And you do, losing it as you tighten around his length, walls clenching repeatedly. This brings him over the edge, cumming into the condom with a shaky breath. He keeps the rhythm going for both your sakes, though his thrusts go erratic as he comes down.
You do the same, your thirty minutes of elation coming to an end soon. As soon as you’ve come down from your orgasmic high, you immediately relax. Your breathing is labored as you relax into his sheets.
Mark pulls from you with a low groan. By the time he’s tossed the condom off into the trash and returned to his bed, you’re already asleep, chest rising softly. A post-cocaine high can do that to you. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he slides into bed with you, slipping a hand over your waist.
With the way your body fits right into his, one could say you were made for each other. In Mark’s mind, maybe you were.
—3 WEEKS, 6 DAYS CLEAN
His hands shake as he curls the wrapping paper, giving it a soft lick to secure it.
Tomorrow will be four weeks, a whole month since the last time he had done anything. He had passed his exams. After he had thrown the pills away, he was sure that everything would be smooth sailing. But he was wrong.
He’s disappointed in himself, he is. He wanted to be better, but it’s harder than it seems. Lucas would be disappointed in him. You would be too.
Luckily, neither will find out.
Right now he’s tucked in his bedroom away from Lucas with the excuse that he was napping, but he’s not. Instead, he’s wrapping a joint with the leftover weed tucked in his nightstand.
It’s not because he wants to, or because he’s being peer pressured by anyone around him. It’s for one person only—his dad.
On this day, five years ago, Pastor Lee passed away.
The first three years, the hardest ones, he had Lucas. The past two years, he had you.
No—the first three years weren’t hardest to face, this one is. He still has Lucas, but not really. Had he swallowed his pride, had he just told his best friend that he wasn’t okay when he had asked about his father’s death anniversary, things would have been okay. Lucas would have nodded in sympathy, then dropped everything he had to be there for Mark. They’d chill and drink a couple beers—no, not drink, not anymore—but maybe watch a movie and play some games until the day had passed. That would have been bearable.
But that hadn’t happened.
When Lucas had asked Mark how he felt about the day, Mark had lied and blubbered out a, “Oh, was that today? I totally forgot.” Why had he done that? He doesn’t know.
Because he had had too much pride to admit to his friend that he was struggling… Now he’s here, trying to take care of his pain in the only way he has left.
He lights it, fingers still shaking, and his body relaxes into the mattress as he finally gets a taste of the clouded, sinful smoke once more. The only downfall to this is that he knows, oh he knows well, just how much pain that it causes for him and those around him.
—THE FIRST BURN.
Over the years, Mark has grown accustomed to the warmth.
It’s what you do to him, what he associates you with. Your first kiss, despite the cold winter air, warmed his soul from the inside. Whenever he looks at you… there’s a feeling of espousement that explodes within his chest. Yes, he loves you, even if he doesn’t say it often. He doesn’t need to. You know. You’ve opened his eyes to the beauty of love, the exhilaration of showing yourself to someone and being fully accepted. In his life once frozen over with the loss of his father and the death of his innocence, you showed him warmth.
When he wakes, you’re burning up.
More than you should, even with the two of you naked beneath his blankets. You’re sweating, he realizes as he slides his hand, which he had slung around your waist as the two of you drifted into dreamland, over your skin.
You must be hot underneath the blanket, so he starts to slide it off the blanket from your figures. Then he hears it: you cough, the choked sound coming out scratched and labored. Though you’re turned away from him, he can hear the struggle in it. It’s as if… there’s something blocking your throat.
His eyes immediately widen, adrenaline spiking as he sits up, grabs your shoulders, and turns you around. No, no, it can’t be. Where you had been laying, facing the wall, there’s remnants of your vomit, though some had gotten lodged in your throat.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. His fingers grab your wrist. You’re still breathing. You’ve still got a pulse, but it’s fast, too fast. So fast, he can barely count it. “Shit,” he curses. You’re overdosing. You’ve overdosed. Fuck.
It’s the cocaine.
“Y/N,” he calls, voice already loud enough to make the house burst into flames with the amount of desperation he puts into it. Shaking your shoulders, he tries again. “Y/N, baby, fuck—wake up!” When you don’t come to, he turns his head over his shoulder, screaming, “Lucas!”
It’s only the early morning, will he be awake? “Lucas!”
“Mark…?” Your voice draws him out from his panic, and he turns to you with wide eyes. Your eyes, pupils dilated and shaky, fly all over the room. “W-What’s—” You don’t finish, because immediately you’re flinging yourself over the side of his bed and throwing up the remainder of what’s in your throat out on his bedroom floor.
The door slams open. Lucas’ worried face appears. Mark is trembling, breath shaking, and you’re still vomiting over the carpet. At the moment, Mark doesn’t care that the both of you are naked in his bed. “What the hell happened?”
Mark feels himself start to slip away, only a moment from hyperventilating, but he speaks. “Hospital… cocaine—overdose, I—”
“I’ll go start the car.” Lucas is immediately out the door, loud steps running down the hallway to grab his keys. At least somebody is in a stable state of mind. Mark starts to move, standing to dress the two of you, but you grab his arm as he steps out, perhaps using the last of your energy. Your eyes are wild, your mouth parted as you heave heavy, labored breaths.
“I… I can’t breathe—Mark, I can’t,” you start between hurried breaths, but don’t finish. Immediately you go slack, falling back in his bed with closed eyes rolled into the back of your head.
“Fuck,” he curses, immediately throwing on his jeans and sliding your dress over your sweltering body. Though he’s stumbling and racing to gather things, his phone, his wallet, and your’s, he picks you up into his arms bridal style, racing out of his bedroom into the living room.
Flying out the front door, the cold morning air greets him in an unpleasant fashion, only making your perspiring body seem even warmer, reminding him of his faults. Lucas is already sitting in the front seat, ready to go, but Mark throws the two of you in the backseat. At this point you’re completely gone to the world, head thrown back against the cushion as he struggles to put on your seatbelt. It seems like an arbitrary precaution in this case.
As Lucas starts to drive, moving as fast as he can possibly go, Mark clutches your hand. “Baby,” he finally breaths out as reality begins to set in. This is his fault, he did this to you. He doesn’t deserve to hold your hand, so instead he lets go, placing it in your lap before leaning forward to place his head in his hands.
“Oh my fucking god,” he finally lets out, exasperated.
—1 WEEK, 2 DAYS CLEAN
“My name is Hyunjoon, and I am addicted to alcohol. It has been… six weeks since my last drink.”
Mark bounces his leg erratically, glancing around the room. There’s some people he knows, recalling their faces on campus or around town, but some people he's never seen in his life. He’s supposed to reveal himself to these people? He doesn’t belong here.
Or maybe he does. After his last breakdown, it had taken him three days to fess up to Lucas. His friend, though disappointed, was more than understanding. “It’s a long road,” he had told Mark at the time. He said that he knew of an addiction support group in town, and encouraged Mark to attend. He’s right; Mark knows he can’t do this alone.
“Glad to see you’ve gone another week, Hyunjoon. Happy to see you back.”
He’s next, so he stands. “Um,” he starts, rubbing his nape and feeling awfully out of place. “I’m Mark, and I’m addicted to…” he sighs. “A lot of things.”
The kind looking leader of the meeting offers him a smile. “You can share if you’d like.”
He takes a deep breath. There’s so many people, so many eyes. “Mostly weed. I drink a lot, or I used to. I… I was trying to stop everything then I had a—” How to describe it? “Relapse, last week. I don’t think I can do this alone.”
“We commend you for your courage, Mark.” There’s a soft round of applause in the circle. The smiling leader then continues, “We ask everyone who is new to this group, ‘why.’ Why do you want to stop your addiction? Why do you seek help? Besides the obvious reasons that it’s bad for you.”
This question doesn’t take long for him to answer. “I hurt someone. Someone that I really loved, and honestly… I hate myself for it. So I have to stop.”
There seems to be a couple of nods around the circle as Mark sits back down. He releases a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. This will work. Things will be okay. He will get better. He will get you back.
“Thank you for that, Mark. Welcome.”
—THE FIRST REGRET.
Mark finds himself in the same position he had been in earlier in the car, except this time he’s sitting on the floor right outside your room on the hospital floor, hiding his head in his hands. What is wrong with him?
What had he done to you? What had he allowed you to do to yourself?
God, he’s fucked up.
Lucas is inside with you. He had wanted to be there when you woke up, but he couldn’t. He could barely look at his face in the hospital bathroom mirrors; how was he supposed to face you, IVs hooked up to your arms as a result of the drugs that he gave you? It was supposed to be fine, it was just a little bit! It was supposed to help the experience you two were having. But instead, it almost ended your life.
He looks back now. Just two years ago, when you had first met, you didn’t even drink. You’d never been kissed, never been touched. Now he’s… done this to you. He’s despicable. You don’t deserve him. You deserve better.
The door opens, and Mark finally pulls his head up to see Lucas step out with a somber expression. It’s a stark juxtaposition that saddens him, for Lucas is so often the light hearted joking one of the two. “She wants to see you.”
Mark parts his lips, shaky breath exhaling. “I can’t.”
Lucas takes a seat next to him on the floor, sighing. He probably looks crazy, shirtless and puffy eyed on the floor, but his best friend moves next to him anyways. “I know. She’s not angry, you know.”
“That’s the worst part,” mumbles Mark, staring out at the bleak white walls of the hospital in front of them. He doesn’t say much, but Lucas understands him it seems.
“Something’s gotta change, Mark. Something’s gotta give.”
He knows, with a soft nod of his head. Of course, he knows what Lucas means, but what it means to him is different. He has to give something up, and it’s going to be you. Not because he can live without you or because he doesn’t love you, but because it needs to be you. You can’t be around him any longer. You’ll only continue to be hurt.
When this thought finally occurs, and he accepts it, it becomes a little easier to face you.
He rises to his feet. “I’ll… I’ll see you later,” he finally says, twisting the doorknob to your room open.
—1 MONTH, 4 DAYS CLEAN
He doesn’t know why you asked to see him for lunch, but he does know that you look good. You look healthy, you look better than you did that day when he slipped into your hospital room and saw you there, laying lifeless and gray. But that day, you still smiled when you saw him.
You look rather happy, like you’re doing okay without him, though he hopes that’s not that case—no, that’s not a good thing to hope for. He hopes that you’re doing okay, but that you’ll be even happier when you’re together again. Again, you smile at him over your food. Even after all this time, you still look at him like he’s the center of your universe.
Though you had made small talk about your lives, what you were both doing, how your mom is, how Lucas is, and other unimportant things, it’s at the end of the meal when your voice finally sobers, though you keep a smile on your lips.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you out here.”
“I…” Mark starts, blinking, before nodding. “Yeah.”
You laugh, causing the slightest smile to break out across his lips. It’s still the same laugh you had, that fated night when you met. “I just wanted to see you again. And talk. We haven’t talked in a while.”
Mark’s smile turns into a bittersweet simper. “I thought that was because you didn’t want to talk.” Though you had spoken to him on that phone that one day, he had chalked that up to you being polite when he suddenly called.
“Well, at first, yeah, but you know it’s been almost a year since we broke up and… I had some things I wanted to tell you.” Him too, but he’s not entirely sure he’s at his best just yet. Nevertheless, he smiles and nods.
“I’m listening. You know I always am.”
You take a moment or two to simply stare at him with thoughtful eyes as you think over your words. All the while, your sweet smile never leaves your roseate tiers. Finally, hands folded over your lap, you start.
“Thank you.”
Mark blinks, but you continue. “I know that we didn’t end off on the best terms but I wanted to make sure you knew that I was thankful for you. For having you. You’ve done a lot for me. You’ve taught me a lot, and I can’t thank you more for everything you’ve done.”
You blink repeatedly, eyes fluttering before you continue, which leads Mark to think that these words might be just as emotional for you as they are for him. “Thank you for teaching me love. Because of you, I’ve grown a lot and become a better version of myself. A stronger one. I’m really thankful that you were my first everything: my first real date—” His mind flies back to that night. That movie really was a horrible movie.
“My first kiss.” Does it feel right, now? Yes. Can I kiss you? Yes.
“My first time.” It was awkward, but it felt, as it always did, right.
“Thank you, for being the first guy I loved. I really… really loved you, Mark. But most of all,” you say, gazing at his wordless figure with those eyes of yours. They’re not as innocent and naive as they used to be. They’re matured now, hardened, but still, the sparkle is there. The same sparkle that had attracted him that night, three years ago, with that damned white dress.
“I forgive you.” Mark releases a shaky breath. “For everything. I don’t want you to blame yourself anymore. It’s not your fault, really. I’m better now, I’m healthy. Please, don’t hurt yourself anymore because of me.”
“Y/N, I—”
“I met you in my first year here. We’re going to be seniors, Mark. We’re going to graduate and be thrown into the real world, where there’s real consequences. I don’t want the consequences of what happened to weigh you down. I just want to move on, and you deserve to move on too.” From the glint in your eye, it’s clear how long you’ve pondered over these words.
He wants to reach out to you, to grasp you and bring you back to him. Because he’s trying to let go of the past so that he can focus on loving you fully as you are.
Sure, you can forgive him, but he needs to forgive himself first. He’s not quite fully well yet. He has to be patient.
A soft exhale leaves his lips. “Thank you. For forgiving me.”
Yet another sweet, beautiful smile spreads across your lips. It’s the smile that haunts Mark’s dreams. “You’re welcome. And thank you again for everything.” As the waitress appears, returning Mark’s credit card that he had graciously used to pay for the meal, you stand with your bag.
No, you can’t be leaving just yet. “Stay in touch, okay, Mark?”
But he has to let you leave. The day will come when it’s right. “Yeah,” he manages, swallowing the lump in his throat. Yet as he watches you walk away, he can feel that that string of fate he had always believed tied the two of you together slowly wearing, twisting, breaking.
—THE FINAL TEAR.
“What do you mean we should break up?”
Your voice is scandalized, angry. Mark simply keeps his gaze to the living room floor, eyebrows furrowed in complete unhappiness. He never wanted it to end like this, but he’s run horrible with thoughts that the things he did brought pain to you. It’s time to end it. Not because he wants to, but because he should.
“We just should,” he responds bleakly. “After what happened, I think it’s clear that we’re not good for each other.”
It’s been a month now since you’ve been discharged from the hospital. After you had convinced your doctor that you weren’t addicted to drugs and in need of rehab, you had gone home. Mark had luckily had enough saved to pay off your hospital bills; neither of you wanted your parents knowing. “Mark, it’s okay. I told you it’s okay!”
“No, it’s not. It’s not just because of the overdose. Things have been like this for a while now.”
You attempt to grab his hand. If he allows himself to bask in just one moment of your kindness, he’ll give in. You beg, “Mark, please, hang on for me, for us. I promise things will get better, things can change.”
He snaps, pulling his hand from your’s. Your eyes widen up at him, shocked and appalled at his sudden movement. “No! Can’t you see? You didn’t even take that much. I took more coke in my first snort than you took in that entire line. The overdose shouldn’t have even happened, but look, it did. This is wrong.”
“What, the drugs? I’ve been telling you that. Please, we can get better. We can find help.” The fact that you’re still pleading him with kind, gentle eyes, makes this all worse. It only further proves that you’re good. He’s not.
“No, not the drugs. Us.”
“Us?”
He runs a hand through his dark hair, shaking his head in frustration. “We’re not right for each other. This isn’t working.”
“What do you mean? Tell me why.”
“We’re just not… destined to be together. What happened, it was God’s way of telling us that this is not right. We’re not right for each other,” he explains, voice exasperated as he tries his best to explain the mess of his thoughts.
This seems to take you aback, your voice finally rising. “Oh, so now you care what God thinks?”
No, not really. But sometimes he has to listen. He doesn’t respond, so you continue. “I’ve been more than willing to make this work for two years, Mark. You think any of this was easy for me? My first boyfriend and he’s a freaking drug dealer for God’s sake. I tried to take it all because I loved you! I took care of you when you were hungover, I waited around shady areas at night so that you could drop off deals, I stuck with you for everything. Fuck,” you shout, causing Mark to tense. You rarely curse, and based on your usage of it now, he knows just how upset you are. “I even overdosed and I’m still here. Yet it’s always you pushing me away, making it difficult. Why are you running away from us?”
He’s not running away. “I’m not running away,” he declares. “I’m letting you run away.”
“And what makes you think I need to run away from you?”
“Because! You heard yourself, don’t deserve those things. You should have someone to take care of you when you’re sick, not always be the one fixing me when I’m sick. You should have someone to walk with you through the shady areas. That’s not me. I’m not… right for you.” He finally spits it out, eyebrows tightened together as he releases the thoughts that have been on his mind for a month now.
You’re silent for a moment, taking in his words with your arms crossed over your chest. When you speak, your voice has returned to its normal speaking volume. “You told me that you believed in fate, that you believed in us. Is this fate? Fate that we met, and fell in love, and broke up? Is it fate that you hurt me over and over again and I came back, every single time? Because if that’s fate…” A single tear falls from your eyes, though you wipe it away so it’s as if it never even existed. It seems even you have some pride now, not to cry in front of him. “It seems like your idea of fate is pretty messed up.”
Mark takes a large breath, looking away to gather his thoughts before looking back to you. You’ve both come so far since that night, the image of her clouded by the purple lights, the energy of the party. Now, all that glamour is stripped away. It’s just you and him, as you are. “You had to meet someone like me, so you can know what you deserve.”
“So that’s it? You’re just going to call it quits, and blame it on destiny?” Your tone is mocking, questioning his reasons and probably his sanity.
“I’m not calling it quits,” he immediately retorts, responding sharp and quick. “I’m letting you go.”
“No,” you say as you approach him. “You’re giving up. On us, on everything we worked hard to build. Our trust, our relationship, everything.” Your finger digs into his chest, pointing an accusing blame. “I broke up with you,” you emphasize. “Not the other way around. I broke up with you because you tugged me around, you pushed me away, and you never listened to me. I got tired of it, and broke up with you.”
With that, you pull away from him, though when he finally comes to realize the weight of the conversation you just had, he sees you grabbing your bag and slipping your white ballet flats with purple bows on. “Y/N.”
He wants to say he’s sorry, because it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He hadn’t planned for the conversation to go up in flames.
Whenever you walked out during arguments, there was always a promise to call later, to talk when your minds were stable. But now, as you turn over your shoulder, walking out of his apartment and life, you muster a goodbye.
“Don’t call me.”
—3 MONTHS CLEAN.
“Senior year!” Lucas yells as he throws open the front door with the power of the Hulk, startling Mark who’s still unpacking some boxes of cookware in the kitchen. “It’s our time, time to shine!”
A soft laugh leaves Mark as he places some cups in the cupboard. He and Lucas had left their apartment for two months for the summer to return to their homes, but here they are, back and ready to take on their final year. They had finished middle school and high school together, and now they’ll graduate college together. It makes Mark smile.
As he leaves the kitchen to greet his best friend in the living room, he sees that the guy has already brought in a number of his boxes. “Hey, man,” calls Mark, who leads Lucas in for a dap.
“Hey yourself, you barely talked to me this summer,” Lucas chastises playfully. “Ignoring me, I see.”
Mark laughs, shaking his head. “Not ignoring, just… working on myself.”
“Good,” responds Lucas, turning to bring in the rest of his boxes. Yes, Mark had spent the entire summer dedicating himself to the lost cause that was himself. He started working out again, got a job, and even worked on rebuilding his relationship with his mother. Things were looking up for him.
He feels ready. Lucas’ voice interrupts his thoughts. “Hey, wanna take a break and get some food?”
His question meets a raised eyebrow from Mark. “You just got here, like, two minutes ago.”
“And?”
A laugh leaves Mark’s lips, and he shakes his head. “Nothing. But, uh, I can’t. I was going to go… see Y/N.”
“Oh?” asks Lucas, leaning down to tear the tape on one of the dark cardboard boxes filled to the brim, probably with Lucas’ pillows; the man was like a giant baby, sleeping with ten pillows. “You called her and asked to meet up?”
“No,” responds Mark, who follows these words with a deep breath. “I’m going to go see her.”
Lucas stands straight once more, his playful expression from earlier now serious. He shoots Mark a soft smile, patting him on the shoulder. “Nice. I’m happy for you. Are you leaving now?”
“Uh, yeah, I was planning to go after I put all the kitchen stuff away.”
Lucas’ grin grows even wider, stretching from ear to ear as he gives Mark a little pat on the bum, which is supposed to be encouraging. “Well, then go get her, tiger! Good luck, man,” he yells supportively as he pushes Mark out the door.
As he shuts the door, Mark blinks. “Dude! I don’t even have shoes on! Or my car keys,” he laughs, banging on the door.
Some time later, Mark finds himself hesitating as he parks his car a block down the street from your sharehouse, the same place he had kissed you, that many years ago. He doesn’t even know if you still live here. You had been broken up since the beginning of your junior year, who knows if you had decided to move out?
He contemplates this as he walks down the sidewalk to your place, hands in his pockets and gaze on the floor. Surely, if you’re not there, one of the girls will point him in your direction? Hopefully.
Oh, but you are there. As your home comes into view, he sees you. You’re there on the front porch, dressed in a simple white skirt and the same white ballet flats with purple bows that you can never seem to grow out of.
But you’re not alone.
There’s a man with you, though his back is turned to Mark’s view. He blinks. His steps stop completely. Surely it could be anyone right? A neighbor? A classmate?
But that’s impossible. Not because class doesn’t start for three days or because you and him met the neighbors on all sides of your house, but because you lean up on your toes, the way you always did with Mark himself, and kiss the stranger’s cheek.
It would have been easy to lie to himself, but then it’s much too clear. He realizes it then as he stares, only a few steps away from the path that would have led to your steps, the steps he took when walking you back on your first date, intertwined hands swinging between the two of you.
He’s too late. Maybe much too late.
He was a fool all this time. Thinking that he could be better for you, that he could defy fate with his free will and urge the universe into letting you be together. Lucas was wrong; life isn’t free will, neither is love.
This is his fate, there’s no use denying it.
He stands staring for a few moments, simply gazing in complete desolation at the sight before him. This is it, this is the end. He’s ready to submit to his poor fate, the internalized idea he’s housed that he’d never be able to find a love like yours ever again, but then you see him, probably because he stands out like a stain of black paint on the green canvas of your lawn.
He doesn’t hear you, but your lips form his name, “Mark?” and your eyes blink in confusion.
He doesn’t wait too long anyways, for he’s already turned on his heels back to his car. Fuck fate and its tendencies, giving hope where there will only be heartbreak.
—SOMEWHERE BETWEEN THE FIRST TEAR AND THE FIRST CRASH.
The smell of you invades his senses, but he doesn’t care. It’s one of the first nights in a long time where you’ve agreed to go to a party with him. Though other girls beg for his attention, he’s still only got his eyes on you. Your outfit tonight is much too nostalgic.
“You know,” he whispers in your ear, dancing against your backside with a hand on your waist. “You look best in white.”
“I know,” you respond, chuckling whilst dancing back against him. He had taught you how to dance a while ago, and you just keep getting better and better.
“You wore this dress on purpose, didn’t you, you little minx,” he teases, though a playful laugh leaves his throat. His words draw a knowing giggle from you, and Mark feels as though he could get drunk on the sound alone.
“Maybe,” you respond back, turning and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. This is when Mark gets a good look at you.
It’s so easy to remember the way you first appeared to him, standing awkwardly in a corner of a party just like this. This time the lights decorating the aura of this party are not purple, but his heart is all the same. You’re wearing the same outfit now, definitely at this point to tantalize him and tease him; you loved to make fun of him after he told you that he had fallen for you because of that dress alone.
But you’re different now.
You’re brighter, taller, more mature. Now you are not just your person carrying your own thoughts, but his as well. You know him, know his thoughts and his feelings, know his worries without asking. Your smile is bigger, it reaches your eyes more now than it did that first night, a forced simper at the strange guy coming to flirt with you. You dance with more confidence, you carry with yourself a quiet strength despite your hesitant nature.
He loves you. God, he loves you. He tells you just as much.
With a hand over your hip, he pulls you close. You think he’s going to press another tipsy kiss to your lips, but he doesn’t. Instead he brushes his lips to your ear and he whispers, so softly you would have missed it if you hadn’t been purposely filtering the party’s music to focus on his voice: “I love you.”
You blink, and stop your dancing. It’s the first time he’s ever said this to you.
“Mark…” you start, lips parting in surprise, but he’s pulled away to smile sweetly at you. It’s not flirtatious, the kind of smile he gives you before attempting to pull you in the bathroom for a quick one. Nor is it the knowing grin he shoots before guiltily asking you to go refill his drink. It’s a small one that barely touches the tips of his lips, and the look alone makes your heart melt in espousement. “I… I love you too.”
You had told him, of course, the other month when you had tore him apart in his bedroom after finding him hungover. But this time it’s real, and in the future you both will choose to remember this as the first time.
Some might think that it’s unorthodox to confess such strong feelings such as love in the middle of a party, sweltering with the heat of dancing bodies and the musky smoke in the air. But for the two of you, it doesn’t matter. It’s just you two in here; you only see each other.
—3 MONTHS CLEAN, ONE HOUR LATER.
Mark’s currently in his room, completely bare except for his bed and desk, sulking away. When he had returned home with a bitter lilt in his steps, Lucas didn’t need any explanation, stepping out to “meet Yuqi.”
Of course, it had been Lucas who had put him in this place of thinking he could get you back but in the end, it was only himself that he had to blame. He never had the chance, it was his fault for thinking he ever did.
He’s learned his lesson.
It’s only an hour later when Lucas knocks on the door again. Fuck, Mark thinks inwardly while rolling his eyes. It’s only the first day back, has this giant managed to lose his keys, again? He makes his way out to the door, already preparing to give Lucas hell for being so irresponsible, but Lucas never makes his appearance at the door.
“Y/N.”
“Mark, I’m sorry, but—”
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown up at your place uninvited.” He’s quick to interrupt you, shaking his head. It’s easy to pretend to be strong; he just needs to maintain a strong front until he shuts the door again.
“It’s not that, I—”
“I won’t do it again, I promise. I know you said you wanted to move on and I shouldn’t be surprised, it just hurts to see it, and so, I’ll—”
“Mark—”
“I hope that you’re very happy, and that he can make you happier than I di—”
“That’s my brother, you daft idiot!” You finally cut him off, voice rising to a volume louder than his. He had flinched at your sudden peak in volume. You give him a pointed look, and when he doesn’t dare speak again, you continue. “That’s my brother, Mark. He helps me move in every year, you know that!”
That’s true, he does know that. And he’s met your brother many, many times. Shit, he realizes.
“... Oh.”
“Mark Lee, you think I could move on from you that quickly? It’s been like, two months!” You scold him, as if the idea is preposterous.
“Well,” he reasons. “Technically we broke up a year ago.”
You seem to have the energy to argue back. “Okay, but I only really let you go when school ended this year.”
The two of you stare at each other for a long moment following your words, before you both start to laugh. You crack first, trying to remain serious when all you want to do is envelope him in a hug, for how could you ever love anyone else? You can’t even imagine trying to date anyone right now. He follows right after, shoulders relaxing as you start to chuckle.
“We look insane right now, you know,” he says, sighing as his chortle comes to an end.
“Yeah, and I’m insane because I drove like a madwoman chasing after my ex because he saw me with my brother,” you say with a pointed tone, to which Mark sighs.
“Okay, in my defense, I saw him from behind, and you are awfully touchy with your brother!” He starts, when you begin to laugh again, pure amusement breaking out across your visage. Wow, just five minutes ago he had been regretting all his life decisions, yet here he was with you again, making conversations like you had years ago in your relationship.
When the laughter dies down, the two of you are left staring at each other, and reality sets in. Yeah, he had run away when he saw you with your brother of all people, and you had chased after him, your ex. Where does that place you?
Mark speaks first, breaking the short silence. “I’m sober now, you know. I haven’t done anything, anything at all, in three months now.”
Surprise seems to claim your face at the revelation, and he’s not sure if he should feel proud that he managed to shock you with his success or saddened that it seems to be that much of a surprise. “Oh?” Your surprised expression is replaced with a smile. “I’m proud.”
He nods, unsure what to say next, but luckily you add on, “What made you decide to stop?” You’re undoubtedly reminiscing on all the times you had begged him to give it up, to which he would stubbornly resist.
“You.”
Your features contort into an incredulous expression. “Me.”
“Really,” Mark urges. “I…” he pauses, preparing himself for the words about to leave him. He had long pondered over this moment, wondering if it would truly happen. “I lost you, and I know that I said it was because we weren’t meant to be together but somewhere along the line I realized, I can live without weed, and parties, and alcohol but I can’t live without you.”
“Mark…” You start, lips parted as you grow silent.
“No, please, let me finish, I don’t want to take all the credit because it was Lucas who had to come and knock some sense into me and make me see: sure, fate can be real and that soulmate shit might be real too because I believe you’re mine, but I know that everything is a choice, including love.” His mention of Lucas has you smiling, and he has no doubt Lucas has talked to you recently, attempting to be the middleman once more. “I love you, there’s no doubt about that, I love you more than I love partying, my friends, or anything. And if I love you that much, there’s nothing that can keep me from you.”
He grasps at your hands, and thankfully, you don’t pull away. “Not God, not fate, not anybody. Only me. I was the only thing keeping us apart. I want to be with you, I want to make things better, and I promise… I promise I’ll do everything in my power to be the best for you.” Mark takes a deep breath, taking a moment to glance down at his hands holding yours before looking back to your eyes. “I can’t promise that I won’t have relapses. But I promise that as long as you’re there for me, I will be there for you. I’ll walk you through the shady areas, I won’t run away.”
“Mark—”
“I don’t know if my words will be enough for you to take me back but I swear to you on my entire being that I will be here—”
“Geez, Mark does sobriety make you extremely prone to interrupting, or what?” You butt in, but you laugh, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. Whether it’s you natural shine or tears building in your eyes, neither of you know. “Don’t even go there, or explain anymore. Of course I’ll take you back, you idiot. You think I would chase after you like that if I didn’t think about running back to you every day?”
This causes him to laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t. I wasn’t ready. I was waiting until I was good enough to run to you.”
“You ran away earlier,” you point out teasingly, and he rolls his eyes, pulling you close over the threshold of his apartment.
“That was the last time.”
Your hands find his chest, resting upon the expanse of it as you look up at him with a cheeky smile. “Better be, mister.”
“Oh,” he muses, as you wrap your fingers around the fabric of his shirt and all feels right again. “You’re bold.”
“A year apart does that to you,” you smile, still a hint of shyness on your lips as you finally tug him in, kissing him. You melt into him and his hands immediately find themselves on your hips, just where they belong.
Oh yes, there it is again, that feeling of euphoria. You’re the only drug, the only high he needs.
#NCT-WRITERS#mark lee angst#mark lee smut#mark smut#mark lee x reader#mark lee fanfic#nct angst#tw: smut#tw: drugs#tw: drinking
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
a/n: Hello! My lovely patrons said it was alright to post the first part of my new miniseries here. I hope you enjoy this because it’s a fun story. If you’d like to see what happens next, subscribe to my patreon!
Warnings: angst and fluff, misunderstandings, some smoking of weed (THIS IS A SLOW BURN)
Words: 9.9K
Summary: Harry is 25, and decides to go to graduate school. He's in a film studies program, and becomes a GA for Dr. Casey Robertson, who he assumes is a man. When he goes to Casey's office for their first meeting, he realizes that Dr. Robertson is a woman. The two get along great as the semester progresses, and Harry starts to form a little crush on Casey. There's just one problem...she's engaged.
Harry thought he’d have his life together by now. His whole life he was told if he went to college, he’d be guaranteed a good job and a lasting career. He soon learned, however, that things wouldn’t be that simple. All he wanted to do was watch movies, and review them. He tried making a YouTube channel where he’d review the films he watched, but the videos didn’t get many views, and the few comments he’d get were pretty lewd.
He was sick of working at a grocery store during the day, and a bar at night. He barely had the time to do the things he liked, and he just wasn’t happy. So, he did what any other depressed twenty-five-year-old would do: he applied to graduate school. It made his parents happy since it would give him a break from having to pay off his student loans, and help him find some direction. Harry was able to secure a decent enough GA position that would pay him enough that he wouldn’t need to worry about a job, and he was able to find an apartment with some other graduate students.
So, there he was, enrolled into a Film Studies program, and he’d be a GA for the Writing, Literature, and Publishing undergraduate program. He wouldn’t be teaching or anything, but he would be helping out with a lot of grading and course design. He’d need to have office hours available, and be willing to work with students that have questions.
His roommates were nice enough. Two of them were in biology programs, and another was in art and animation program. Everyone had their own room, and they all had to share a bathroom, but it was okay. They were all adults, and all agreed on chores and how to keep things clean. The four all went out for drinks the first weekend they all moved in to get to know each other better. Harry could really see himself being friends with these people.
He was a little nervous about being a GA. He had to do a good job this semester in order to keep his grant money. It had been a while since he had been in a classroom, so he wasn’t sure how he’d do juggling his own classes and schoolwork along with helping a professor grade for their various courses. Luckily, a good chunk of Harry’s classes would be online, and he only needed to go to one in-person lecture. He got an email from the admin of the Writing and Literature department about meeting with a Dr. Robertson a week before classes start. This was the professor he’d be working with.
He wasn’t given a ton of information on what he needed, so he put his laptop in his backpack, threw on a pair of jeans and a nice button up, and headed out the door. He rolled up his sleeves and the ends of his jeans since it was a little hot out. His glasses were on, and his hair was still a little wet from his shower, but other than that he was feeling pretty confident in his look. He wanted to make a good first impression since he’d be working with this professor all year and not just the fall semester. Harry wondered what type of office he’d be given. He was hoping it would at least have a window, but he’d be grateful for whatever private area he’d be given. He was essentially being given a place to write and he wasn’t going to take it for granted.
As he enters the building, he realizes he has no idea where he’s going. He finds the directory, and sees that Dr. Robertson’s office is up on the second floor. He makes his way up, and takes a deep breath before heading down the hall to their office. As he approaches, he sees a woman with wild, wavy hair up in a high ponytail wearing black, high waist leggings, a slightly cropped tank top and sports bra combo, and was mumbling to herself as she rummaged through her bookshelves.
“Um, excuse me…” Harry speaks up.
“Oh!” The woman jumps. She sets her book down and pushes her glasses back up her nose. “You must be Harry, please, come in.” She waves him in.
“Are you Dr. Robertson?”
“I am.” She nods and extends her hand out for him to shake. “Have a seat.” Harry sits down in one of the chairs across from her desk. “You look a little confused.”
“It just doesn’t look like you were, um, expecting anyone…”
“I know, my office is a total disaster. I’m normally okay with organized chaos, but right now it’s just straight up chaos.” She chuckles. She notices Harry’s eyes drift to her cleavage for a moment. “I didn’t dress up for this since I knew I’d be cleaning things up around here, I apologize.”
“No! Uh, no need. I…I’m sorry, I thought you were a man…”
“Casey is a woman’s name.” She blinks.
“It’s also a man’s.” Harry runs a hand through his hair.
“Is it going to be a problem that I’m a woman?” She raises an eyebrow at him.
“No, of course not. I guess I was just picturing some older guy with a dark office and a bottle of whiskey in the corner that he sips on out of crystal.” He chuckles nervously.
“Ah, well, you know what they say about people who assume.” She smirks.
“I’m not making a very good first impression, am I.” It wasn’t a question.
“That depends.” She leans back in her chair.
“On?”
“What your favorite movie is.” She grins. “As long as it’s not The Wolf of Wallstreet you’ll be fine.”
“I mean, it’s not, but I don’t mind that movie. I thought Leo’s performance was good.” Harry shrugs.
“It definitely was, but I don’t think it needed to be three hours long, nor did I need full frontal of Margot Robbie’s vagina, but that’s besides the point. What’s your favorite movie?”
“This is going to sound cliché, but…it’s Citizen Kane.”
“Is that your favorite because it truly is, or is it your favorite because someone told you it should be?”
“No, it’s genuinely my favorite. I’m a big fan of Orson Welles, I think the film was extremely innovative at the time, it still is by today’s standards. And I love how it was blatant commentary on the harms of yellow journalism. It’s cool to think back on how much trouble Welles had with the distribution for it too.” Harry realizes how excited he’s getting, and clears his throat. “Sorry.”
“Never apologize for the things you’re passionate about.”
“What, uh, what’s your favorite movie?”
“The Wedding Singer.” She smiles.
“Isn’t that an Adam Sandler movie?”
“It sure is.” She says proudly. “Look, I can admit that some of his movies aren’t great. However, I’ve written a ton of academic pieces on The Wedding Singer.”
“Really?”
“Mhm, during a time of uncertainty with AIDS there was LGBTQ representation. The actor that played George ended up coming out as transgender, and lived out her days proudly as a woman. Not to mention that Adam Sandler doesn’t use being gay as a punchline, like, ever. There’re always people of color represented in his films as well. And on a personal note, as a Jewish woman, it was always nice seeing that his characters were Jewish. That type of representation was really important to me as a kid.”
“Wow, I guess I never really thought about that.”
“Well, that’s why I have a PhD and you’re going for your master’s.” She smirks. “Teasing.” She pulls some papers out of her desk. “Okay, so this fall I’m teaching Advanced Screenwriting, Analyzing Screen Media, and two sections of freshman Composition. I’ll need you physically there during the composition classes since those will be the ones I’m going to be having you grading the work for. I’m all for helping first year students learn the basics, but I just don’t have the strength to grade their papers this year. Plus, it’ll be good for you to learn how to properly grade an array of work.”
“All that sounds good…you won’t need help with your other classes?”
“Maybe next semester. I teach a scriptwriting class in the spring, along with some other writing courses. You’re going to be taking some pretty high-level stuff this semester, I don’t want you getting overwhelmed.”
“You know what classes I’m taking?”
“Of course I do. I’d be stupid not to look into the person I’m going to be working with. Even though I’m not your graduate advisor, I hope you know I’d be happy to help you with whatever you need. Are you coming right from undergrad, or did you take some time off?”
“It’s been a few years since I’ve been in school. I’m twenty-five.”
“Sometimes it’s good to take some time off, figure out what you want to focus on. What exactly are you hoping to get out of a graduate film program?”
“I want to write high-level film reviews. I was hoping to make a video series, but it’s really tough to build a base on YouTube. I got discouraged.”
“If you ever want me to watch what you have out there already, I’d be more than happy to.”
“Sure, that’d be great. So, uh, where will my office be?”
“Oh, honey, did you think you were getting your own office?” She can’t help but giggle. “We’re not in the science building, GA’s don’t get their own offices over here.”
“How will students meet with me if they have questions?”
“They won’t need to meet with you, you’re not teaching.”
“But I’ll be grading, what if a student wants to question me on a grade?”
“Then they can come to me.” She shrugs.
“Dr. Robertson, where am I supposed to get my own work done?”
“Mi oficina es tu oficina.” She smiles. “You can work in here any time you like. I actually have a key for you.” She opens a drawer and pulls out a key. “Here you go, don’t lose that.”
“What if you’re meeting with a student?”
“As you can see, we have a lovely lounge at the end of the hall, you can go there and set up shop if you need to. You’re a GA, Mr. Styles, pay your dues. Now, here are my syllabi, and you should have gotten an email stating that you’ve been given access to all my courses. There are rubrics for all of the assignments as well, as long as you follow those you should have no problem grading.”
“Alright.” Harry takes the different sheets of paper from her, catching sight of the ring on her finger. “Are you married?” He wasn’t quite sure why he asked, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“Hm? Oh, no.” She laughs. “Just engaged.” She extends her hand to look down at her ring. “Been engaged for over a year, we can’t seem to decide on a date. My fiancé is a lawyer, and a highly sought after one at that.”
“Why not just pick a random day to go to a courthouse?”
“Well, we both have big families, and we don’t want to disappoint any of them.” She sighs. “It’s fine, we’ll figure it out at some point. Neither of us are really in a rush. We’ve been together five years, it’ll happen when it happens.” She studies Harry for a moment. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Have anyone special?”
“Oh!” Harry’s cheeks redden. “Um, no…nothing serious, anyways.”
“Maybe you’ll meet someone here. You should go to the GA meetings, meet others doing what you’re doing.”
“I’m living with three other GA’s, we’re getting along pretty well so far. But I’ll definitely check out when those meetings are.”
“Good.” She smiles.
“May I ask how old you are? You seem so accomplished, I mean…look at all of the degrees and certificates you have.” Harry motions to the various frames on the walls.
“Some of those are just recognition certificates. I’m twenty-eight. I did a 4+1 program to get my master’s so I could zip right along into a PhD program. I was lucky enough that I was hired on full-time after getting it. The department really values me.”
“That’s awesome.” Harry smiles. “Anything else you’d like me to know about your classes?”
“Not at the moment. Would you be comfortable giving me your cell number? Anything I can do to have less emails, you know?”
“I don’t mind.” Harry smiles again and takes out his phone, handing it to her.
“Thanks, it’ll be much easier to tell you if something changes last minute this way.” She texts herself before handing him back his phone.
“Your fiancé won’t mind you texting me?” Harry asks playfully, warming up to her a bit more.
“No, why would he? We’re not one of those couples who reads each other’s texts. My phone is my property just as his phone is his property. We trust each other.” She rests her elbows on her desk, putting even more of her cleavage on display for him without realizing it. “Besides that, I’m not trying to start an affair with my GA who should be very careful about flirting with me so that he doesn’t end up on some very thin ice.”
“I…I…I wasn’t-“
“You were being cheeky with me.” She crosses her arms over her chest as a smug smile sets on her lips. “I like to tease, Mr. Styles, you can relax your shoulders now.”
“I think it’s going to take me some time to get used to your sense of humor.” Harry says with a relaxed sigh.
“Well, you’re stuck with me for an entire year, so you’ve got plenty of time to figure me out. Now, if you don’t have any other questions, you can go on and enjoy the rest of your day.” She stands back up. “I need to continue organizing my books, and the rest of this mess.” Harry nods and stands up.
“It was nice to meet you. You know you can just call me Harry, right?”
“Sure.” She smiles. “I prefer to be called Dr. Robertson in the classroom, when we’re not in there you can just call me Casey.”
“Okay.” Harry smiles.
“Oh, wait! Are you free the day before classes start? I was hoping to take you to lunch as a sort of good luck thing.”
“I can definitely do lunch the day before classes start.”
As Harry walks back to his apartment, he can’t help but think about how cool Casey is. She’s a bit frazzled, yes, but she seems like someone Harry will be able to easily work with. At least he wouldn’t have to kiss the ass of some stuffy old professor. Casey’s ass is one Harry wouldn’t mind kissing, but she had a fiancé to take care of that for her. He had to admit, Casey was insanely attractive, but he’d politely just admire her from afar and respect that she was very much a taken woman. Besides that, it would be incredibly inappropriate to even try to start something up with the professor he was GA’ing for. No, he’d keep things professional. He wasn’t even looking for someone to be with right now anyways. If he felt the need to hook up with someone, he could either head down to the bars or download Tinder.
//
“Alright, if we could settle down and get started!” Casey shouts over the buzz of students talking in her first section of composition. “My name is Dr. Robertson, and that is what I’d prefer to be called. My pronouns are she/her. I encourage you all to be vocal about how you’d like to be addressed just the same. This is Mr. Styles, you may call him Harry. He’s going to be grading all of your work this semester, so you can send any and all excuses his way.” Casey grins and sits down on top of the desk at the front of the room. “Now, I’d like us all to go around the room and say your name, where you’re from, and what TV show you binged over the summer. I know for me, I rewatched Boy Meets World for the millionth time, and it was still just as good.”
Harry was impressed. Most of the time students hated ice breakers, but this was a pretty engaging one. Once the class of twenty-five is through, Casey goes over their course page in Canvas and the syllabus.
“Now, this specific course of composition has a topic, so we’re going to be writing about television this semester. If you don’t think you can write about that, then you may want to find another section of composition to take. I will say, we’re going to have a lot of fun in this class. We’re going to watch some interesting shows, and you may find that you’re ‘to watch’ list will have grown exponentially by the end of the semester.”
Casey asks if anyone has any questions, and a few do which causes some lively class discussion for the remainder of the period. She lets them go about fifteen minutes early. Harry walks over to her as she unplugs her laptop from the monitor on the lectern.
“Seems like the majority of them are going to enjoy the content for this class.” Harry tells her, but all she does is hum her response as she looks down at her phone. She sighs heavily before putting her phone in her pocket. “Everything okay?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah. Just figuring out what Daniel and I are going to have for dinner, nothing serious.” She waves him off as she slings her bag over her shoulder. “How are your classes going so far?” She asks as they walk out of the room and head towards her office.
“Pretty good, I don’t think anything is going to be too difficult for me. I have to watch a lot of movies, but I was expecting that.” Harry shrugs.
Once they’re in her office, Casey sits down at her desk, and Harry makes himself comfortable on her couch. This is the routine they had started since she took him for lunch a few days ago. They worked in a comfortable silence together, occasionally taking breaks to chat. Casey was happy she got assigned a GA that knew the difference between work and play. Her cell phone ends up ringing about five different times. By the fifth time Harry heard the buzzing, he couldn’t help but speak up.
“If you need to take that I can step out.” Harry says.
“No, it’s fine.” Casey sighs. “It’s just Daniel being Daniel.”
“What do you mean?”
“His time is more valuable than mine.” She rolls her eyes. “He knows I’m working.”
“What if it’s an emergency?”
“It’s not.”
“Casey, he’s called you five times-“
“It’s not an emergency, now mind your business.” She snaps and stands up with her phone in her hand. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Casey didn’t share too much personal stuff with Harry about her fiancé. When they had lunch together, she told Harry his name is Daniel, and she explained the type of law he practiced, but not much more than that. She didn’t get into how they met, or how he proposed. She didn’t even seem to be excited while talking about him like she did when she and Harry first met. Casey returns about ten minutes later, and sits back down in her chair.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped.” Harry says softly.
“You didn’t.” She sighs. “I snapped at you for no good reason, I apologize.”
“Is everything alright?”
“Mhm.” She says without looking at him, and going into her email on her computer.
Harry furrows his brows as he looks at her, but gets back to what he was doing. If she didn’t want to talk about it then he wasn’t going to push her. Harry notices her resting her chin on her fist as she looks at the picture of her and Daniel that she had on her desk. She sighs heavily and shakes her head, returning to her emails.
“I have my lecture in a bit, so I’m gonna head out.” Harry says, putting his backpack on.
“Alright, have a good class.” She gives him a soft smile. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” He smiles back. “See you tomorrow.”
//
Harry’s lecture was long and boring. It was a class all about black and white films, and the beginning of cinema up through the 1950’s. It would be a class full of dense reading materials and learning about theorists that Harry had only briefly learned about previously in undergrad. Normally this would be a class Harry would be really interested in, but the professor had to be at least 70, and he was quite monotone.
When he gets home to his apartment, he grabs a Bud Light out of the fridge, twists the cap off the top, then settles onto the couch. His roommates were all still in class and would be meeting up for pizza in a bit, so Harry had about an hour to himself before he was to go downtown to meet up for dinner. He takes his phone out and scrolls through his various notifications. Halfway through his beer he decides to text Casey.
Harry: any thoughts on Dr. Jensen?
Casey: oh god don’t tell me he’s teaching your lecture course…
Harry: yeah…so is he going to stay boring all semester?
Casey: that dinosaur should have retired years ago, I’m so sorry you have to have a class with him. Is it the early cinema through the 1950’s class?
Harry: that’s the one! The content is interesting enough, but I was on the verge of falling asleep the whole time, idk how I’m gonna survive an entire semester with the guy. Any tips on how to survive his course?
Casey: def make sure you keep up with the homework. He’s one of those jerks that’s been using the same syllabus for the last 20 yrs, so he doesn’t update his exams. I’d also recommend getting a recorder for his lectures, keeping up with notes is basically impossible during class, but if you can go back and listen he actually makes a lot of good points
Harry: you’re a lifesaver, thank you!! 😊
Casey: any time! I actually like a lot of the movies he has on his syllabus, so if you ever want a movie buddy just let me know!
Casey: I’ve got that couch in my office literally so I can comfortably watch movies
A sigh leaves Harry’s mouth when he sees that she rushed to make it known watching movies would only be an on-campus thing. Would it be so weird if she came to his apartment for a movie night?
Harry: that sounds great, I actually have to watch The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari by the end of the week. I’m sure you’ve seen it a million times though…
Casey: I have, but it’s one of my favorites so I won’t mind watching it again
Harry: really??
Casey: yeah! I love German Gothic films, I took a class solely on them in grad school, I can’t get enough. The makeup, the sharp edges, the harsh shadows, it was all just so interesting
He sees the time on his phone and realizes he needs to head downtown to meet up with his roommates. Harry wasn’t one for using his phone while eating with friends, so much to his dismay he has to end the conversation.
Harry: learn something new about you every day! I have to get going, meeting up for pizza with friends. Did you figure out what you and Daniel are having for dinner?
Casey: pasta…have fun with your friends!
Harry: a classic choice, I love pasta
He almost wished he hadn’t sent that last text. She didn’t respond to it. Harry groans at himself, and picks himself up to head outside. He couldn’t wait to stuff his face with some greasy pizza, drink some more beer, and just unwind with his new friends. It was nice being back in school and feeling like your responsibilities could be put on the back burner for a bit. Schoolwork was a less anxiety inducing thing to focus on, as opposed to what the fuck Harry was going to do with his life. Casey would be a great mentor for him. She was essentially doing what he thinks he’d like to be doing. He had an entire year to pick her brain, and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. With any luck he’d be her GA again next year, but he didn’t want to get too far ahead of himself.
//
Casey and Harry were getting along famously. It was nearly October, and they were already in perfect sync. She was beyond grateful for him and his speedy grading. He was a fast reader, and she was not, so having him grade all of those papers and forum posts for her composition courses freed her up to focus on the work in her other classes. Harry tried his best not to bring up Daniel. Any time he did, Casey seemed to shut down. He’d only ask because he wanted to make sure Daniel wasn’t doing anything abusive to Casey. She never came in with a scratch on her, but Daniel could easily be doing something mental. Daniel never showed up to Casey’s office. If Harry were engaged to Casey, he’d want to visit her all he could, but maybe Casey didn’t like being visited since she always had something to do.
“Hey, Casey, what’s this faculty Halloween party about?” Harry asks her one Thursday afternoon. “I got an e-vite for it.”
“Oh! I forgot they put you on the faculty email list. You should go, it’s a lot of fun. It’s a great way for all of us to get together outside of the monthly faculty meetings. Everyone dresses up, it’s at one of the bars downtown. We get two drink tickets, and the rest you buy yourself.”
“Do other GA’s go?”
“Sometimes.” Casey nods. “It would be a good way for you to meet some of the other GA’s, and other faculty members. You can never have too many of us in your corner.”
“That’s true. What do you think I should dress up as? Like, how all out do people go?”
“Definitely keep it classy, appropriate, but don’t be afraid to have fun. Daniel and I usually do a couple’s costume. We have so much fun going to the store every year and figuring out what we want to do. It works out great cause his law firm has a costume party every year too.” She smiles. “We’re headed to the fabric store this weekend actually to start thinking of ideas.”
“Oh, that’s good. Um, what have you gone as in the past?”
“I’ll show you!” Casey grabs her phone, and wheels herself closer to Harry so he can see. “Last year we went as Bob and Linda from Bob’s Burgers, the year before that we went as vampires, and the year before that we went as Cosmo and Wanda from The Fairly Oddparents.”
“Aw, you guys looks so happy.”
“Yeah.” Casey swallows and locks her phone, wheeling back over to her desk. “Can’t wait to see what we come up with this year.” She mutters as she gets back to her work.
“I’ll have to really think about it. I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in forever.”
“Your friends didn’t have parties?”
“They did, but I was usually working. The bar I worked at had costume contests and stuff, so we were always busy. I’d get too hot from running around to dress up as anything.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Hmm…” She taps her chin as she thinks. “You could go as, like, a baseball player or something.”
“You’re just saying that because you want to see me in a pair of those tight pants.” Harry smirks.
“I see you in tight pants every day, it wouldn’t be anything new.” She says smugly before turning away from him.
“I do not wear tight pants every day.” Harry scoffs. “They may be tight in certain places, but it’s not like I’m walking around in skinny jeans.”
“True.” She side eyes him. “Maybe you could go as a Jonas Brother, all of them wear tight pants, or they used to.”
“I don’t think anyone at that party would get the reference.” Harry rolls his eyes.
“Well, don’t say I didn’t help you think of anything.” She shrugs.
Harry chuckles softly as he gets back to grading papers. He loved when Casey would tease him. He had grown a lot more comfortable with her sense of humor, and they would often end up in hysterics from their banter.
“Casey.” A tall man with salt and pepper hair wearing an expensive looking suit stands in the doorway. He was holding a small bouquet of flowers, and his eyes looked tired. “Baby, can I take you to lunch?”
“Daniel, I’m working.” Casey stands up. “Harry, this is my fiancé, Daniel. Daniel, this is my GA, Harry.”
“Hi, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Daniel says to Harry, then turns his attention back to Casey. “Please, you didn’t pack a lunch this morning. Let me take you out.”
Casey sighs, and ushers Daniel out into the hallway.
“You can’t just show up like this.” She says quietly.
“I’m really trying here, Honey.”
“I only have an hour, so we need to go somewhere quick.”
“That’s fine, uh, I got these for you. Know how much you like tulips.”
“These aren’t even season.” She smiles as she takes the flowers from him. “Thank you, Sweetheart, let me just go grab my jacket.” Casey goes back into her office and grabs her things. “Harry, I’ll be back in a little while.”
“Okay, I’ll probably be in class by the time you get back.”
“Alright.” She nods, and zips up her jacket.
“Do you want me to put those in some water for you?” He asks, nodding towards the flowers.
“Huh? Oh, no, that’s alright. They won’t last more than a few days as it is. It’s not worth it.”
//
Harry had ended up putting together a Clark Kent costume by wearing a light-wash pair of jeans, some converse, a Superman tee shirt with a jacket over it half zipped, and his glasses. He styled his hair to give the front an extra curl. The faculty would definitely be able to see the effort, but it also didn’t look like Harry was trying too hard. He heads downtown to the bar with his roommates, as they were all invited too. They all decided to be super heroes in disguise, so they made sure to take a ton of pictures before going to the party. Harry’s jaw nearly hits the floor when he spots Casey wearing a Morticia Addams costume. Even though Casey wasn’t showing much skin, her off the shoulder dress was leaving little to the imagination.
“Excuse me.” Harry says to his friends before making his way over to Casey. “Hi.”
“Harry!” She beams. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Me too, uh, what do you think of my costume?”
“I love it! Very cute and creative.” She smiles. “No one ever really thinks about dressing as the secret identity.”
“Casey, don’t you look lovely!” Dr. Lind says to her. “Where’s your Gomez?”
“Oh, uh, Daniel’s busy working a case. He couldn’t get away and I told him not to worry about it.” Casey explains.
“Aw, that’s too bad. It’s been ages since we’ve seen him. Have you two picked a date yet?”
“No, not yet. We both have had a lot going on, and we can’t seem to agree on the best time to do it. I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon.”
“You two should just elope, get it done at a courthouse and then have a big party for your families. I mean, the point of being engaged is not to stay engaged.”
“It’s only been a little over a year.” Casey mutters.
“I know, Dear, but you-“
“You know what’s great about being in a monogamous relationship? What happens between Daniel and I is between Daniel and I, none of this really concerns you, Nancy. I appreciate your input, but it’s not needed, excuse me.” Casey has to bite back tears as she walks away.
“My goodness, I didn’t mean to upset her.” Dr. Lind says to Harry.
“I’ll go see if she’s alright.” Harry finds Casey getting a new drink from the bar. He pulls her to the side to have a private word. “Dr. Lind always oversteps, she had no right to speak about what you should be doing.”
“I know that.” Casey says, looking away.
“Did Daniel really have to work late tonight?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Harry, I don’t want to talk about it.” She says before sipping on her drink. “I just want to have a good time tonight and not think about it, alright?”
“I can respect that, but I don’t think drinking your problems away is a great idea.”
“Harry, no offense, but I don’t need your opinion on this.” She brushes by him and goes to speak with some of her other friends.
A few hours pass, and it was starting to get a little stuffy in the bar, so Harry heads out for some fresh air. He sees Casey outside with a cigarette between her fingers. As he gets closer, he realizes it’s not a cigarette.
“Casey, are you smoking weed?” Harry asks her.
“It’s medicinal.” She mutters, blowing smoke in the opposite direction as to not hit him in the face with it. “It’s for my anxiety.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to take an edible?”
“Not when I need it to work right away.”
“Did you drive yourself here tonight?”
“I did, but I can just take an uber home.” She shrugs. “I came out for some air.”
“So did I.” Harry rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not trying to pry into your life, but things won’t get better if you keep shit bottled up.”
“I just prefer to keep my private life private.”
“Believe me, I get that, but…god, I wish you’d just talk to me, I’m your friend.”
“Daniel and I had an argument earlier and I told him not to come with me because I didn’t want to pretend like everything was fine. I couldn’t stand in that bar around my friends and colleagues pretending like everything’s fine with him when it’s not. We’re far from fine, and we have been for a while.”
“Did something happen?”
“The morning before the day I first took you out to lunch he told me he was up for a promotion at the firm…partner.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“It would have been if it didn’t involve us having to move to New York. He took the bar exam out there without telling me, and he passed. They want him out there to work on larger cases, as a defense attorney. I wouldn’t have been opposed to moving, but he just assumed that I would. He said I could teach anywhere with no regard with how I’d feel about leaving this institution, our friends, and family behind. And then he told me it wouldn’t even matter because he’d be making enough money for me to never have to work another day in my life and that I could just stay home taking care of our future children.”
“That’s a bit old fashioned.”
“It is, which was shocking to me because he’s never acted that way towards me. He’s always been so modern, so progressive. I think he was given advice from the wrong people. Anyways, he took the job in New York because he basically had to, he would have been stupid not to take it, so we’ve only been seeing each other on weekends. And when we do see each other, we just end up fighting…we don’t even sleep in the same room.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what we’re doing anymore.” Her voice cracks, but she swallows her tears down. She spent too long on her makeup to ruin it from crying. “We’ve grown apart, it’s as simple as that, but neither of us have the courage to end it. I love him so much, but lately…lately I’ve been feeling like love just isn’t enough.” She looks up at Harry who had been nice enough to stand out in the cold with her to listen to all of her woes.
“I’m so sorry.” It’s all he can think to say. “You should be home with him…trying to work it out.”
“I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough today. I told him to just go back to New York. He’s got a whole new life out there. I’ve been to his apartment a few times, and I didn’t feel like I fit in at all. I don’t even know why he still wants me, he could easily find someone new out there.”
“How could he not want you?” Harry steps a little closer to her. “You’re smart, funny, and…you’re a knockout. If I were him and I saw you about to leave the house looking like this, well…I wouldn’t have let you leave the house.”
“Why, so you could tell me to change into something less form fitting?” She scoffs as she crosses her arms over her chest. Her blunt all but forgotten.
“I would have asked you to take the dress off, that’s for certain. As far getting something back on…” Harry takes another step closer to Casey, making her cheeks feel warm.
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not Daniel.”
“I didn’t have much to drink tonight. Let me drive you home, and I’ll take the uber back to my apartment. That way you don’t have to worry about coming back for your car tomorrow.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not, I’m making a suggestion.”
“Okay, yeah, if you don’t mind. I only live, like, fifteen minutes from here. We, uh, rent a townhome.”
Casey hands Harry her keys, and they make their way around the building to the parking lot. The drive is quiet. Casey could feel her eyes starting to droop. Harry had the heat cranked since it had gotten chilly. He watches the map on the navigation screen to make sure he makes the right turns to her house. He pulls into her driveway, and orders his uber.
“Thank you for driving.” Casey says.
“Any time.” Harry smiles and gets out of the car. He jogs around to the other side to open her door, and walks her up her front steps. “You gonna be okay?” He rubs his hands up and down her arms to keep her warm.
“Yeah.” She smiles softly up at him. “Harry, I-“ The front door opens with Daniel standing there.
“Casey, thank god, Baby, I’m so sorry.” He wraps his arms around her, kissing her without acknowledging Harry. “No argument is worth you leaving angry like that for.” He kisses her again.
“Daniel.” She pushes him off of her. “Harry’s here, he drove me home.”
“Oh! Sorry about that.” Daniel says. “Thanks for driving her, man.”
“No problem.” Harry’s uber pulls up in front of the house. “That’s my ride, uh, have a nice night.”
Harry’s gaze lingers on Casey for a moment before making his way to the car. Daniel leads Casey inside the house.
“Did you have a good time?” Daniel asks her as they both walk into the kitchen.
“I guess.” She shrugs. “Would have been more fun if my Gomez had been there with me.” She pouts at him.
“You told me you didn’t want me there.”
“I also told you to go back to New York, so clearly your listening skills are selective.”
“I was so mad at you that I actually almost left, but I couldn’t make it out of the driveway.” He comes over to her, caressing her cheek. “Casey, I want to figure all of this out with you. I don’t want to fight anymore, and I’m sick of sleeping alone.”
“I feel the same way. Let me take all of this off and put on some pj’s, and then we can talk.”
“Okay.” He smiles. “Want me to make you some tea?”
“That’d be great, thank you.”
//
Casey: I’m not able to come in today, I’m not feeling great…do you think you could handle my classes today? You can have comp peer edit their papers, and my other classes can just watch a movie
Harry: sure! Is there anything else you need?
Casey: just some rest, thanks for understanding
Harry had wondered for the rest of the weekend how things went between Casey and Daniel. Maybe he hung around and they were going to spend Monday together. All in all, he hoped Casey was okay. Her Monday classes were sad not to see their beloved Dr. Robertson, but many of the girls in class had no problem with Harry taking over for the day.
As a lark, Harry picked up some pepto bismol and other things that might make someone sick feel better. He pulls up to Casey’s house, and sighs with relief when he doesn’t see Daniel’s car. He rings the doorbell, and waits for Casey to open door.
“H-Harry?” She says as she opens the door. She had on an oversized, quarter-zip fleece and a pair of joggers. Her hair was in a loose, low ponytail with some strands left out in front. Her eyes were red and puffy, as was her nose.
“Hey, I…I brought you some pepto and some other stuff that might make you feel better. I didn’t know if you caught a cold or…are you okay?”
“Oh, Harry!” She wails, and throws her body into his, crying into his chest. Harry wraps his arms around her and moves them both further into the house, closing the door. “I’m not sick.” She sniffles as she looks up at him. “I’m…heartbroken.”
“What happened?”
“Daniel and I broke up.” Her voice cracks, and she shoves her face back into his chest. He holds her close and rubs her back. “We stayed up all night on Saturday talking.” She hiccups, stepping back from him and leading him into her living room. “We watched the sun come up in tears.” They both sit down on her sofa. There was a somewhat tattered blanket that she snatches, hugging it to her chest. “We just couldn’t come to a compromise that worked well enough for the both of us.” She pauses for a moment, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “We didn’t yell or argue, we just talked everything out. He agreed that we grew apart and that we still loved each other very much. He was feeling defeated because he felt like he was the only one trying. I knew I stopped trying because I just didn’t have the strength anymore. He’s coming back next weekend to pack up the rest of his things. After we got some sleep on Sunday we went out to get him some boxes, and he packed as much as he could into his car. Five years over and done with just like that.”
“Casey, I’m so sorry.”
“I just needed today to, like, rest and regroup, but I just spent it crying…mourning the loss of my relationship.”
“That sounds like a pretty healthy way to deal with it.”
“Every time I tried to sleep, I just cried. I haven’t eaten all day, I’ve just been in here…wallowing.” She laughs coldly at herself.
“Let me make you something to eat. Do you have food in the kitchen?”
“Harry, you don’t have to. I know you have homework to do.” She frowns.
“My bag’s in the car. I can make you some dinner, and I can work on my assignments. I can even put on one of the movies I need to watch.”
“You really don’t have to babysit me. I’m a grown woman, I can take care of myself.”
“Casey, I want to help. Why don’t you go take a shower or something? I’m sure I’ll be able to find my way around your kitchen. I can just whip up some pasta.”
“You’re very kind, thank you.” She sniffles. “A shower sounds nice, I’ll go do that.”
By the time Casey gets downstairs, all cozy in a fresh fleece and pair of sweatpants, Harry had finished making some ziti mixed with some peas. He seasoned it with some parmesan cheese, pepper, and adobo.
“Hey.” He smiles when he sees her.
“Smells good in here.” She smiles back, hopping up onto one of the stools at her kitchen island. Harry puts a bowl of food in front of her before sitting down next to her. “Thank you.”
“Stop thanking me, would you?”
“I can’t help it.” Her bottom lip quivers as she takes a bite of food. “This is just so nice of you.” She sniffles.
“Casey, come on.” Harry chuckles and cradles her cheeks to thumb her tears away. “Can’t have you crying into your dinner.” He pouts cutely at her making her giggle before letting her go.
Harry eats while getting some work done, typing away at his computer. Casey eats her dinner slowly, not wanting to overwhelm her empty stomach. She also got her period earlier in the day, so she knew her tears had to have been in overdrive because of that. She finishes her food with a sigh and sets her fork down.
“All done?” Harry asks softly.
“Mhm, I can clean up.”
“No, let me-“
“Harry, I’m not helpless, please.” She hops off her stool and takes both of their bowls and put them in the dishwasher. “Did you figure out which movie you need to watch for class?”
“I have a choice between Some Like it Hot and The Apartment.”
“God, I can’t stand The Apartment.” Casey groans. “Let’s watch Some Like it Hot, it’s way more entertaining. I actually have it on DVD.”
“Oh, perfect.” Harry follows Casey into her living room, and he sits down as she sets the movie up. “I’ve never seen this one before.”
“Really? You’ll love it, it’s a classic. Marilyn Monroe is in it, and she’s just wonderful.” Casey sits down and hits play on the remote. “Can I get you anything? Water?”
“I’m all set, thank you.” Harry smiles, sitting back into the couch, making himself more comfortable. “You feeling a little better now that you’ve eaten?”
“Yeah, I-“ Casey’s phone starts ringing, and she sees that it’s Daniel. “I’m sorry, I need to take this.” Casey gets up quickly, and makes her way upstairs. “Hi…”
“Hi.”
“You don’t sound great.” Casey says softly.
“Been crying all day.”
“Me too.” She sighs.
“Are we sure we’re doing the right thing? If it hurts this much, shouldn’t we try to find a way to make this work?”
“Daniel, we went round in circles all weekend. You’re staying in New York, and I’m staying here. I don’t want you sacrificing your career for me. We’re not the same people we were five years ago…we’re both different now. I…I don’t want to wait for things to get started anymore.”
“So, you’d rather start over with someone new than just wait a little longer to get married to someone you know and love?”
“I want to marry someone who doesn’t lie to me about a promotion! You didn’t even talk to me before you accepted. It was like I didn’t even matter in your life, Daniel, don’t you understand that?”
“I know it was wrong of me to do that, I just thought you’d be on board…”
“Well, you thought wrong.”
“Apparently so.” There’s a beat of silence between them. “I’ll be coming back late on Friday. I should be able to pack everything else up during the weekend.”
“Okay, do you want me to stay with Lola? Like, do you not want me here?”
“I’m not going to kick you out of your own home, Casey. Besides, I’ll need you there so we can properly divide things up.”
“Right, yeah…”
“And we didn’t exactly get to have a, uh, proper goodbye.”
“Daniel.” Casey giggles. “I don’t think doing it one last time would be a good idea.”
“I’m not saying we need to plan it out, but if it happens…”
“We’ll see. I really am sorry we couldn’t compromise on things.”
“Me too. Well, I’ll let you go now. Sleep well.”
“You too.” Casey sighs as she hangs up, and makes her way downstairs. “Hey, Harry, if it’s all the same, I think I’m gonna just go to bed, but you can borrow the DVD if you want.”
“Oh! Okay.” Harry pauses the movie and stands up. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, I’m just hormonal and tired. I’m ready to just crawl into bed and get cozy. I want to have a fresh start tomorrow.”
“Right, makes sense.” Harry gathers his things, and Casey walks him to the door.
“I can’t thank you enough for coming by.”
“All I did was make a little dinner.” Harry shrugs.
“It was more than that and you know it.” She pokes his chest playfully. “You’re a great friend.” She opens her arms up for him, and he gladly accepts her hug. He holds her close to him, maybe for a beat too long, but he likes the way she feels pressed up against him. Harry was also known for not being the first person to end a hug. Casey’s arms start to loosen around him, and he looks down at her. Her eyes widen when she sees Harry start to lean in. “Woah, what are you doing?” She steps back from him.
“N-nothing.” His face flushes.
“Were you just going to try to kiss me?”
“What, no! Of course not.” He swallows.
“Yes you were!” She pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath before looking at him. “Hi, I just broke up with my fiancé, who I’ve been with for over five years, what part of that made you think it was a good time to pull a move on me? Was all of this because you just wanted to try and get a piece?”
“Casey, that’s not what’s happening. I genuinely came to check on you. I…I just misread a signal, that’s all.”
“What signal? I literally just said you were a good friend and hugged you!” She puts her hands on her hips and frowns at him. “I’m really disappointed in you, Harry. You never struck me as the kind of guy to be nice to a girl just to try to-“
“I’m not one of those guys.” He shakes his head. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or disrespect you, I just thought…”
“Harry, you’re my GA.”
“I know.”
“It would be highly inappropriate for us to get involved. I mean, I know I’m only three years older than you, but at the end of the day I have a position of power over you. You’re a bright man, Harry, don’t be stupid and risk messing up your future because you have a crush.”
Harry looks down at his shoes, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“I understand what you’re saying.” He looks up at her. “But you haven’t said that you don’t like me back.” He smirks, making her mouth fall open. She was speechless. “Sleep tight, Casey.” Harry turns and opens the door, letting himself out. Casey stands in her doorway.
“You’re on thin ice, Styles!” She calls after him.
“I’ll make sure to step with caution, Dr. Robertson!” He shouts back before getting into his car.
Casey shuts her door, and sighs, leaning against it for a moment before bringing herself up to bed. She goes through her nightly routine, and gets herself settled into her sheets. She knew there was an underlying reason as to why she didn’t want to try harder with Daniel. The more she got to know Harry, the more she’d dread coming home to her now ex-fiancé. She used to love coming home to Daniel and recounting their days, but she realized she just didn’t care about his cases anymore. She wanted to have high level talks about film and media. Daniel would always listen, but he never really understood why Casey was so passionate about her work. To him, it all just seemed like a hobby rather than a career. Harry, on the other hand, had the same passions as her. He understood how stimulating talk about film and media could be. She wasn’t having sexual feelings towards Harry, but she couldn’t wrap her head around the emotional attachment that begun. She figured maybe she couldn’t love Daniel that much if she’d rather spend extra hours in her office with Harry instead of trying to get home to Daniel before heading back to New York. It pained her, but that was the truth. Tonight confirmed that Harry was definitely into Casey. Now all Casey had to do was figure out how she felt about Harry, but she needed to get over Daniel first.
//
“You’re here early.” Casey says to Harry the next morning.
“I wanted to talk to you about last night. I feel really bad about how I acted. I thought that maybe we were having a moment. I apologize for misreading things. Kept me up all night.”
“Have a seat.” She motions to her couch and he sits down. She turns in her seat to face him. “Don’t worry about last night. I was in a vulnerable state, and I was more affectionate than I should have been. Nothing really happened between us, so it’s all good. It’s going to take me some time to get over Daniel. Five years is a long time to be committed to one person. I’m seeing him again this weekend, and who knows what could happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“We could easily get back together, and then what? The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Besides that, you’re my GA, it would be wrong. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. It’s not like…I mean…it’s nothing, okay? Think I’m just into you cause we have so much in common. And I really look up to you. You’re so accomplished, you know?”
“A smart woman doesn’t intimidate you?”
“Not at all.” He shakes his head. “I think smart women are incredibly”, Harry gets up from his seat and sits on the edge of Casey’s desk, “incredibly sexy.”
“You’re not really sorry for trying to kiss me last night, are you?” She smirks up at him.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you and for overstepping a boundary.” A grins starts to pull on his lips. “But I’m not sorry that it’s lead to you admitting that you like me.”
“I never said I liked you.”
“You never said you didn’t.”
“Harry.” Casey sighs.
“Listen”, Harry gets off her desk and sits back down on the couch, taking out his laptop. “take as much time as you need to get over Daniel. I’ll be right here when you’re ready for me.” He peers up at her from his laptop, smiling from ear to ear.
“You’re insufferable.” She shakes her head, getting back to her own work.
“And yet, here we are.”
“Harry, it’s 8:30 in the morning, we don’t have class until 10. Do me a favor and stay quiet until then, yeah?”
He makes a motion as to zip his lips, making Casey chuckle and roll her eyes. Later that day, when Harry had to leave for his own lecture, Casey snuck off to go see her friend, Lola, who works in the financial aid office.
“You busy?” Casey asks her friend as she sits down.
“I’m always free for you, Honey.” Lola smiles warmly. “What’s up?”
“Um…Daniel and I decided to officially end things over the weekend.” Casey says quietly. Lola had a cubicle to herself, but there were always wandering ears.
“Oh my god! I knew you guys were on the rocks, but holy shit.”
“He didn’t want to give up New York, and I didn’t want to give up here. It sucks, I’m totally heartbroken.” Casey frowns, trying not to cry again.
“Why didn’t you call me? I would have come over or something.”
“Well, I sort of just wanted to be alone…um, but someone came by to take care of me.”
“Oh, who?”
“H-Harry.”
“Your GA?!” Lola whisper-screams, and Casey nods. “Holy fuck, did anything happen?”
“No.” Casey shakes her head. “He just made me dinner…but he tried to kiss me before he left. I called him out on it, but…I don’t know, like, I…fuck.” Casey pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “I don’t really know how to articulate this.”
“You find your GA, who happens to only be three years younger than you, attractive.” Lola says for Casey.
“Yeah, that’s pretty much it. But I don’t want to get involved with anyone else right now. I still love Daniel, like, my heart is still with him.”
“But you also think you like Harry.”
“Well, what’s not to like about him? He makes me laugh, I like talking to him, he’s very sweet…and…fuck, I can’t even think like this. This is so unethical of me. If this were a male professor with a female GA, I’d be totally against it.”
“Yes, but that’s not the situation. You’re twenty-eight, he’s twenty-five, it’d be weird if you didn’t fall for each other.”
“I feel like it’s like when you fall for your therapist, you know? Like, what if he just likes me because he looks up to me? I shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought of this, right? It’s got to be against the rules.”
“Are you his professor?”
“Of course not, you know I don’t teach graduate level courses.”
“So, he in no way is going to be graded by you?”
“No.”
“And he could have easily been assigned to any other professor in the department. There was no special request on your part. And again, he’s twenty-five-years-old, it’s not like he’s some naïve twenty-one-year-old kid who just finished undergrad, you know?”
“That’s true.” Casey chews on her bottom lip. “I don’t know, think I need to get over my break up before I do anything.”
“I think that’s a good idea. You were together for over five years, that’s not something you’ll get over in a day, Babe. What do you say you and I grab drinks this weekend?”
“I can’t, Daniel’s coming back to pack up the rest of his things and he wants me there.”
“Alright, how about on Thursday? We can go for happy hour downtown after I get out.”
“Yeah, okay.” Casey nods. “Think I could definitely use some girl time, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Don’t overthink this Harry thing either. It’s not a problem yet, so don’t turn it into one.”
“You’re right, it’s just been a little flirting, it’s not like anything’s actually happened between us. If he really likes me, he’ll be patient.”
“And don’t forget, you’re worth the wait.”
#harry styles#tell me I'm the only one#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles smut#harry styles x oc#harry styles series#harry styles au#GA!Harry#GArry
91 notes
·
View notes
Text
everytime // Sirius Black
Sweetener x Marauders
play ‘everytime’ by Ariana Grande <3
pairing: sirius black x reader
word count: 2.3k ✨
warnings: angst, fluff at the end, mentions of drinking, under-age drinking, partying, depression?, mentions of drugs and drug use, someone trying to take advantage on the drunk reader, crying? Let me know if I missed something.
This also might have a few time jumps
A/N: I wrote this in 1st person but I feel like I should make these in 3rd so that’s what I’ll start doing. But this is also my first time making a one-shot fic so cut me some slack if it’s trash. But I hope you enjoy!
I get tired of your no-shows
Taking in the warmth through my fingers I look at the door once more before glancing at the clock.
He’s late. Again
I take a deep breath to cool down my nerves and sigh. I sip the rest of my butterbeer before looking at the entrance once more and packing my stuff and walking out. I look around once more before giving up and walking back to the castle.
You get tired of my control
As I’m walking back I start to get more irritated by the step. This isn’t the first time he’s done this. Always too busy to hang out because of him with his friends or too busy because of pranks. The missed dates and the interrupted times. All for his friends. I’m clearly not a priority in his life and that has to change or I’m not going to be in it.
Walking through the castle I collect my thoughts on how I’m gonna approach this situation. But since I’m so pissed off, I’m gonna take an angry approach.
I walk up to the gryffindor common room and say the password before walking in.
As I stepped into the common room, lo and behold, the marauders spread on the couches talking loudly and laughing. Seeing that made my blood boil. As I walk over I catch the attention of the brunet,
“Y/N!!!!! Hey!!!” The Potter boy called out. I gave a weak smile. Which caught the attention of my boyfriend.
“Hey, babe.” He smiled at me. I internally roll my eyes and keep an emotionless face on. At this point all the attention from the boys is on me.
“Hey. Can we talk?” In the corner of my eye I can see Remus and James glance at each other and look worriedly at Sirius. Yeah. They know better.
“Uhh. Sure. About what?” This time I rolled my eyes. I ignore his question and grab his hand before dragging him up to his dorm.
We enter and I close the door before leaning on it. He goes and sits on the foot on his bed.
“What do you want to talk about? We were in the middle of planning.” Bouncing his knee, I can tell he’s getting impatient and just wants this to hurry up and be done with this. I get even more annoyed at this.
“What do you want to talk about? We were in the middle of planning.”- I mocked him- “This is exactly what I’m talking about! You’re always busy! Doing this and doing that!” I start to raise my voice. My face starts to heat up due to my anger. I try to calm down but it doesn’t seem to be working.
He opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off,
“Where were you today?! I was waiting for you! For our date that YOU literally planned!” His eyes widened with realization and looked at me with a guilty face. But I’m too pissed off to care.
My eyes start to water with tears of frustration but I’m nowhere near done,
“Everytime I want to hang out you’re always busy with your friends and pranks! You never have time for me anymore!” At this point tears are streaming down my face and Sirius doesn’t look that far behind.
“This is the third date you missed! Because you forgot! I’m done with being second best. Im probably not even that!” He has his head down, hands on his knees.
“I—I-I” he stutters out what I think is going to be some wack apology. But I’m done. I can’t do it anymore.
“No. I’m done.” As soon as I said those words his head shot up fast and looked at me with wide eyes.
“No-” he goes to protest but I cut him off again.
“No I can’t do this. Not anymore. This has gone on for too long. You need to fix your priorities. I hope you don’t treat another girl like this. I’m breaking up with you, Sirius.” I don’t wait for a reply and I simply walk out of the door and walk back down to the common room, wiping my tears.
They keep telling me to let go
As I make it to the common room I notice the boys are still there. They see me and go to talk but a loud sound cuts them off. Items getting thrown around, is what I guessed it to be.
We all freeze and guilt washes over me. It’s Sirius.
But I don’t really let go when I say so
I turn my head to the staircase with a sad expression before brushing it off.
I had to. I deserve better. I thought to myself.
I look over to the boys to see that they have worried but knowing expressions on their faces. I gave them weak smiles and walked away to my dorm.
I keep giving people blank stares
Drama travels fast around here at Hogwarts. So it wasn’t long until word got out that infamous Sirius Black was single again and back on the market.
My friends are starting to get worried about me because of my reaction to the breakup, or lack thereof. I know how to keep my emotions buried. I know it’s an unhealthy coping mechanism but I refuse to be sad over a boy who treated me like shit.
I’m so different when your not there
What they don’t know is that I cry myself to sleep. Everyday. I close my curtains around my bed and put a silencing spell around it and sob. For hours. It’s pretty sad.
But I keep my neutral face on for everyone else. From what I know Sirius isn’t doing much better. He’s just more open about his broken heart. Lily tells me he mopes around and doesn’t speak much anymore. Let alone prank anyone.
Everytime she tells me about him being sad it makes me want to run out the room and find him to cuddle with him and kiss him and apologize profusely for the break up.
But I remind myself that it’s not my fault and that I deserve better.
It’s like something out of Shakespeare
Because I’m really not here when you’re not there
I tried to fight our energy
It's been three months since the break up and I have developed some pretty bad habits.
I’ve secretly been drinking to numb the pain. I know it’s not healthy but I can’t seem to stop.
Once all my roommates are sleeping I drink by myself on my bed. It helped in the beginning but now I can’t stop.
I’ve perfected my fake smile so no one could tell the difference. Well one person did, but I was unaware.
I’m in a deep depression and I have no one to talk to. None of my friends know, I can’t tell them. They won’t understand.
Meanwhile,
“Pads, you can’t keep moping around. She’s moved on, you should too.”
“No, I can’t. I still love her.” Sirius said but due to him being face first on his pillow it came out muffled.
“Well then you’re going to have to work your way to get her back. Show her you’ve changed.” The werewolf suggested to his friend.
“Really?” He picks his head up to face his friends, red and puffy eyes with a hopeful expression.
They nod.
But everytime I think I’m free
As the weeks pass I start to receive notes and letters with little flowers attached to them. I know they are from Sirius but I can’t seem to open them and read. It’s too hard and I’m not ready yet.
You get high and call on the regular
Once I reach my empty dorm I run to my trunk and collect all the saved letters. I place them on my bed and chuck my shoes off before climbing on my bed while getting comfortable.
I sort the letter from how I received them. I slowly open the first one,
Dear y/n,
Looking at us now I regret a lot of things.
I don’t blame you for not seeing us together in the future.
I was horrible, but for you I am willing to change. No. I will change.
You deserve so much better and if you let me I could be that person.
But I have to fix myself in order for that to happen.
If you're willing I would love to have another chance.
forever yours,
Sirius
As I finish reading my eyes are cloudy with tears. I continue to read all of the letters.
And by the end of it I’m sobbing.
I get weak and fall like a teenager
I knew it was a bad idea to read those letters. Because after that I am ready to run back into his arms and express my love. But I can’t until I know that he’s changed.
I deserve better. I keep telling myself that.
Why, oh why does God keep bringing me back to you?
Everytime I see him now I try to avoid him. Everytime he’s in a room, I leave. Everytime class is over I run out before he gets the chance to talk to me.
Because I know if I take one look into his beautiful stormy gray eyes I will fall all over again. And that can’t happen.
I deserve better.
I get drunk, pretend that I’m over it
It’s Friday night and today is the big Gryffindor party. Being stressed with liquor and drugs is not a good combo but I haven’t been safe these past couple of months.
I’m in my dorm room getting ready. I decide on a natural glam look with a bold red lip and a black satin body con dress with some black heels.
As I’m walking down the stairs, I can hear the music blasting and the red led lights are turned on. I part from my friends and immediately head to the liquor table. As I’m walking I fail to notice the pair of eyes following my every move.
I take a plastic red cup and I fill it up with the hardest liquor I could find on the table. After downing the cup I refill it and make my way over to my friends who are currently in the corner smoking what the muggles call ‘weed’. It’s strong but it helps me relax. Who knew muggle were so helpful.
Self-destruct, show up like an idiot
About an hour into the party everyone was either high, drunk or both. Which I was. Again me with my unhealthy coping mechanisms.
I ended up dancing in the middle of the room with a huge group of people. I feel eyes on me but I’m too drunk to care at the moment.
As I’m dancing I feel someone come up behind me and grab my hips. I turn around to see a random 7th year boy. He begins to trail his hands on my body.
He leans down to whisper in my ear,
“How about we go to my down, sweetheart?” His hot breath makes a shiver run down my spine, and not in a good way.
I began to shake my head while saying no but he clearly didn’t get the message because he gripped my wrists and tried to pull me with him. But because I was too drunk I couldn’t defend myself properly.
As I continue to struggle I see a person step in front of me, glaring at the boy,
“I suggest you let her go. Now.” I heard a familiar voice, I couldn’t tell who from my drunken state. Once the person turned around a smile involuntarily appeared on my face,
“Siri! Hi!” I giggled as he guided me away from everyone.
“Hi. Let’s get you somewhere safe.” He picks me up bridal style and starts to carry me up to the boys dorms and to his room.
I yawned and cuddled up into his chest,
“I’m still mad at you.” I mumbled. He set me down on his bed and goes to his trunk to take out some clothes,
“I know.” He said, sadly. As he’s helping me I go on a mini rant,
“You know you treated me horrible. I just wanted my boyfriend but you never made time for me. You missed dates, you cancelled on me a lot. And whenever we had time together alone you had to leave early. I just wanted you to give me your love and attention. But I was never a priority. I miss you so much, Siri.” After he tucks me into his bed he kisses my forehead and responds,
“I miss you too, baby.” He goes to walk away but I grab his hand. Which makes him turn around and give me a questioning look,
“Please stay.” I pout. He smiles and climbs into the bed with me. I turn to look at him,
“Cuddles?” I ask him with puppy eyes.
“Cuddles.” I snuggle up next to him with my head on his chest and my legs bunched up with his. He puts his chin on top of my head and begins to play with my hair.
“You know, I still love you. And I’m willing to give you a second chance, Siri.” I can’t see him but I can tell he has a huge grin on his face.
“I love you too, pup. Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” I start to drift off but before I do fully I feel him kiss my forehead again and whisper ‘I love you’ one last time before the darkness engulfed me.
Why, oh why does God keep bringing me back to you?
****
Taglist: @blackpinkdolan
If you want to be added to my taglist for this series message me or comment under the post.
#sweetener x marauder#harry potter#sirius black fic#sirius black fluff#sirius black angst#harry potter imagine#marauders fanfiction#hp marauders#marauders imagine#marauders#james potter#james potter fluff#remus lupin#lily evens#young marauders#angst#fluff#marauders era imagine#marauders era x reader#marauders era
176 notes
·
View notes
Text
shikamaru x reader fic
“change” chapter one
tw : smoking, alcohol
brooo i’m honestly so sorry this took forever but dont worry next chapters won’t take as long at all, i already have them planned out. and just a heads up there will be smut in this story, not this chapter but possibly chapter three.
eh i don’t really like the way this chapter came out but i can promise better in the future ones.
warnings: for now just alcohol, weed, and swearing
shikamaru and you had been best friends for as long as you both could remember. since you both had grown up together, through your parents being close friends, you and him were inseparable. you spent most of your childhood being around each other. but once you guys hit 16 years old things started to be different.
shikamaru started to drink, smoke, get tattoos, and flunk school. it was a miricale that he even graduated high school thanks to you tutoring him and completing his homework assignments. you on the other hand were a straight A student, a teachers pet, a quiet kid who didn’t party or do anything most teenagers around you were doing. you wanted to, but you were anxious and even a little scared that you werent ‘enough’ to be friends with others who were out having good times and enjoying their teen years. you were timid, you couldn’t be outgoing to save your life, so you watched from the sidelines.
once you graduated high school you traveled to another part of japan for eleven months to find yourself, learn to break out of your shell, and to switch up your style leaning more towards looking sexier and attractive. which meant leaving shikamaru behind to say goodbye for the time being. neither of you really talked when you left, in fact, you guys didn’t talk at all. you had missed him more than anything while he was well, being him. shikamaru messed around with girls, making them feel special, having sex with them, but he never put a label on their ‘relationship’. he would end things when he would get bored and find a new pretty girl to fuck, which left all the other girls broken hearted. you envied any girl he was involved with in a sexual way, you wanted him more than anything but you never told him. hell no. you could never tell him. he would never feel the same as you feel. there was no changing the way shikamaru was. he would never love and you knew that.
you came back to konaha a couple of weeks ago, settling into your new place, a nice little apartment, decorated in a modern manor, as well as starting to make friends in town through social media, slowly starting to go to parties and going out to clubs. you changed your look, dying your hair, getting a new piercing, switching up your style to something different, something new. you felt a lot better about yourself and you wondered if shikamaru would be interested in the way you looked. you weren’t confident, but the attention you’ve been getting from others lately hasn’t gone unnoticed.
hey shikamaru, i came back to konoha a few weeks ago finally! sorry i haven’t told you yet i’ve just been busy moving into my new place and stuff. we should hangout or something, it’s been so long since we seen eachother. you sent him a text, hoping that he would text you back wanting to make plans.
yeah we can link. i’m busy tonight but if you’re free tomorrow you can come by my place around 18:30 and we can catch up. you won’t be able to stay for long though.. maybe an hour at most. just lmk when you’re on the way. it took him a little while but he answered.
okay, that’s fine i have plans a little while afterwards so i won’t be able to stay long anyways. i’ll see you tomorrow and i’ll let you know when i’m on the way.
you were so excited to see him, butterflies already forming in the pit your stomach. you planned out a fit, the way you wanted your hair, and makeup. this was the time you and shikamaru would be able to catch up and maybe even become close friends again.
unfortunately shikamaru wasn’t too excited to see you. you guys haven’t talked in a long time and he saw no point or benefit to your friendship. he’s made a lot of new friends, other friends who are interested in the things he is and he’s been busy fucking new girls all the time. he thought it was such a drag that you wanted to hangout, and truth be told he wasn’t even gonna be busy tomorrow. he just didn’t want to waste his night hanging around you.
_______________________________________________
the next day you woke up around 11:30 am, starting off with eating a light breakfast, showering, shaving, and skin care. getting ready and facetiming your friend mikasa (hehe aot name but i love her name) to talk about how excited you were for first off going to see shikamaru for a little bit and second off going to a house party later that you guys were invited to.
“i’m so nervous ‘kasa, like what if he doesn’t like the way i look? or what if he thinks i’m weird now?” you sighed, brushing your fingers through your hair, checking yourself out in the mirror.
“it’ll be fine y/n! just try your best not to show your nervous. act like he isn’t intimidating at all. you look hot, nothing to be scared of.” she responded
“hm, you think so? are you sure i should wear this? i don’t wanna look like a try hard..”
“you don’t look like a try hard just mention to him that you’re hitting a party later he’ll get why you’re in a cute ass outfit. now go to his house, it’s already 18:07, don’t keep him waiting. he said he didn’t have much time anyways.”
“alright i’ll see you later tonight then.. wish me luck, i’ll let you know what happens. bye.”
“good luck and bye bitch! don’t have too much fun!” she answered while wiggling her eyebrows and hanging up the phone.
you texted shikamaru that you were on your way, he responded shortly saying to just knock when you got there.
third person point of view
“yo kiba, i have a girl coming over today.. she’s just an old friend. she’s shy so try not to scare her off. don’t smoke out in the living room while she’s here. i don’t need her getting uncomfortable. it’ll be such a drag listening to her get upset about the smoke.”
“say less, but is she hot? if she’s just an old friend let me make a move on her.” kiba answered hopping on the couch next to shikamaru.
“no. she’s not cute and you wouldn’t want her anywa-“ shikamaru was cut off by a light knock on the apartment door.
“can you go invite her in for me?”
“do you ever get off your lazy ass? whatever fine.” kiba said while getting up off the couch and walking towards the door.
kiba opened the door and didn’t say anything, he just stared down at y/n who looked back up at him confused clearly expecting shikamaru to answer. ‘not cute?’ kiba thought. ‘is shikamaru out of his MIND??’ surely this couldn’t be the girl shikamaru was talking about, shikamaru would have to be an idiot to not find her attractive. she was dressed in a sexy yet subtle outfit. she smelt nice and her hair looked so soft, her skin was like porcelain, delicate and smooth.
“uhh i’m sorry, who are you?” kiba asked
“oh- i umm, i’m y/n nice to meet you. i’m here to see shikamaru.. i’m at the right apartment, right?” shikamaru tried to look over at y/n but he couldn’t see much with kiba standing in front of the door. he looked back down at his phone and rolled his eyes.
“well? are you gonna let her in? i just told you i had company coming over two minutes ago. how burnt out are you?”
“oh right um come in, i’m kiba, shikamaru’s roommate by the way. make yourself at home.. shikamaru’s on the couch.” kiba stuttered out scratching the back of his neck and moving out of the way so y/n could entered.
“wow shikamaru your place looks nice. is it just you and your roommate living here?” y/n said.
shikamaru looked up from his phone to see her staring around the room and his first thought was ??? what the fuck ?
“y/n?” shikamaru said. he stared at her as she sat on the other couch, his eyes focused on her appearance.
“yeah?” y/n answered smiling back at him.
“nothing i just— you just look really different since i last seen you last. what have you been up to?” he asked still eyeing her up and down, blushing slightly. he felt a little weird, he wasn’t expecting his nerdy childhood best friend to look so good.
“i’ve been busy honestly, i finally moved into my new place and i’ve been going out with friends, it feels nice to finally be back home although i do miss traveling.” friends.. she has other friends now?
“what about you? what have you been up to?” she said still smiling, she looked beautiful, like she’s grown up.. grown into a women’s body, she’d grown into her face as well, no longer looking so babyish. her outfit was nice, showing some skin leaving little to the imagination. this was nothing like her.
“nothing really, just be doing the same old things.... you made some friends when you came back to konoha?”
“yeah i did, i made a few. you should meet them one day, we usually hit parties on the weekends or we’ll chill at one of our houses, drink and smoke or whatever. you would like them.” she exclaimed nodding her head slowly.
huh? wait she even drinks and smokes now? what happened to her? and what changed her when she left.. why was she so different now?
“you drink and smoke now? wow you really are different.”
“oh please” y/n giggled a bit. “i’m still the same old y/n, i’m no different only been living my life in other ways. i’ve been enjoying it ever since i left eleven months ago, you know? i’m having fun i guess.”
“well.. i honestly never expected the day where you would find drinking and smoking fun since you always used to scold me for it.” he said, rolling his eyes playfully, a grin forming on his lips.
“and by the way do you want something to drink, like a water or anything?”
“you know i was just inexpirienced back then shikamaru” she said placing her elbow on the couch arm rest, resting her cheek on her palm and she still had a cute small smile on her face.
“and i’m good, i’ll probably be leaving not too long from now anyways.”
“you in a rush?” shikamaru questioned, slightly raising one of his brows
“hm, kind of. i’m gonna go pregame at one of my friends houses tonight and get ready for a party.”
kiba walked in and sat next to her, he gave shikamaru a pointed look before butting in their conversation and replying “a party tonight huh? you gonna give us the invite?”
“well i mean if you guys wanna go it’s gonna be at 227 Clock Street, not far from here maybe a 15 minute drive. if they ask who you know just say you know me.” she said looking back at kiba “you shouldn’t have any problems. but also, i believe shikamaru said he was busy tonight. right shikamaru?”
“yeah.. well, i do have plans later. but i could just cancel them now, not really important anyways. i guess we could go out. do you think it’ll be a problem to bring others?”
“nope it shouldn’t be a problem at all. the more the merrier, and you and your friends will be able to meet mine tonight!” she said excitedly.
shikamaru excused himself to use the bathroom as kiba continued to talk to y/n and ask her about herself. it was so very obvious that kiba wanted to take her to his room and bend her over, but y/n being hella naive couldn’t tell.
shikamaru looked in the mirror while washing his hands. his eyebrows were scowled, and his eyes were dazed. never could he imagine something like this would happen where y/n would come out of her shell. where she would party. she was as sweet as ever still, she would always be a kind person. nothing could change that, but she wasn’t as quiet as she used to be. it was nice seeing her talk more, no longer stuttering out every other word.
‘if i bring my friends tonight and the rest meet her there’s no doubt she’ll be around more often. i already know they’re gonna be all over her, i’m just curious if she’s still innocent sex wise. last time i seen her she was definitely still a virgin. maybe i should ask her myself.’
#naruto headcanons#shikamaru nara#shikamaru x reader#shikamaru imagine#shikamaru nara x reader#naruto shippuden#naruto#naruto x reader#shikamaru imagines#shikamaru#shikamaru smut
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
drunk in love
jj x reader
word count: 2136
warnings: lots of drinking and not really responsibly (some underage but mostly of age); cursing (as usual); weed and smoking
synopsis: a headcanon thing where jj is your long time drinking buddy but with feelings
a/n: please drink responsibly friends
The first time you met was at a house party thrown by one of your new coworkers freshman year. You’d heard of the infamous JJ and his wild tendencies, but you’d never seen them or even him in person.
That is until you were sitting on the couch with another girl you knew and he dropped into the empty spot next to you, promptly spilling his full beer all over your leg and the couch. He slurred out, “Oh fuck, my b,” more to the couch than you.
The second time you met JJ was when you were the only one brave enough to take on the cement mixer with him. Four shot glasses, two with Baileys and two with lime juice, sat on the counter in front you. The group of people standing in the kitchen counted you down and the two of you quickly shot both and started shaking your heads quickly, allowing them to mix.
JJ accidentally spilled some down his chin but you swallowed no problem, resulting in cheers erupting all over the kitchen. You heard one of your friends scream, “Noob!” at him while wrapping you in a victorious hug.
He held a hand out for you to shake, “I yield to the superior drinker.”
The third time you met him was when your flip-pong team wiped the floor with his. You shook your head at him as he pouted, “Absolute fucking amateurs.”
He scoffed, “Your ass got carried through that game.”
You couldn’t let that stand, so you pulled up your friend’s story showing you absolutely annihilating him in a flip cup matchup which led to his team having to drink. And what exactly was he supposed to say to that?
The fourth and final time you met JJ before finally becoming friends was at a tailgate. Your friend was dating one of his frat brothers, so the two of you often tailgated with them. Admittedly, your one weakness when it came to drinking competitions was shotgunning.
Naturally, when JJ saw you there, he challenged you immediately, and you had a point to prove. You’d let to lose to JJ and it couldn’t start now. Your friend knew you were bad, but handed you an unopened beer and squeezed your shoulder for luck.
You lost but barely. JJ wrapped his arm around your shoulder, “Maybe next time, fucking amateur.” And you had to laugh at that.
“Hey I’ll get you one day and then you’ll never be able to beat me. I’ll be unstoppable.”
He shrugged, “In that case, you’re my new pong partner. John B who?”
From then on, anytime JJ got invited to a party or planned a night out, you were involved. Your favorite nights with JJ were when a group of you got together for bar-hopping downtown. One time in particular, about two years after meeting JJ for the first time, stuck out from all the others.
After a tailgate, you went back to your apartment to get dressed to go out instead of going to the football game. The plan was for JJ to come pick you up after the game to go back to the frat house to pregame before going downtown for the night, and you were excited.
It was dark by the time JJ pulled up and most of your closet was on the floor due to indecisiveness of what to wear. JJ had his pregame playlist blasting when you opened the door and his whole truck smelled like weed. You picked up the dab in the cup holder and took a hit as he sped off toward frat row.
“You look nice.”
A blush you didn’t want to acknowledge warmed your cheeks and you blew out smoke, “Thanks bud, wish I could say the same to you.”
He rolled his eyes, “Fuck off, I’m going to change before we go out.”
You just laughed and took another hit as he turned into the driveway. Following him to his room, you sat on the bed while he dug through his drawers for a shirt he hadn’t sweated in yet. He threw a shirt off the floor at you to get your attention, “Call John B and make sure he picked up the alcohol from Sarah’s please?”
“He’s your brother, you do it.”
JJ gave you a dirty look as you stretched out on his bed, “I’m getting dressed, can’t you just call him off my phone?”
You rolled your eyes, feeling unusually difficult, “I think you’re done getting ready, you look pretty, J, call him.”
He tossed the phone at you, already unlocked, and you begrudgingly pressed John B’s contact. You kicked your shoes off and got more comfortable in his bed as it rang.
“J, I’m on my way home, chill.”
“Not JJ, but I am calling to make sure you got the juice.”
“You’re just as bad as him, yes we have the alcohol.”
“We?”
John B paused for a few seconds, clearly hesitating, “Me and Sarah.”
“You’re bringing Sarah to pregame?” you asked incredulously and JJ’s head snapped up to look at you. He motioned for you to give him and phone and you shook your head.
“Give it,” he whispered.
“No,” you hissed at him, backing into the wall as he walked across the room to you.
JJ lunged toward the bed and held his hand out, “I just need to have a word with him.”
You hung up just before he ripped the phone out of your hand, and he gave you a dirty look. You smirked, “Gotta be faster, Maybank.”
“You’re the one who’s going to have to hang out with her.” And fair enough.
He crossed his arms, “Fine, you can find your own alcohol source tonight, I’m cutting you off.”
Pouting, you scrambled off the bed and wrapped him in a hug, “No, I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be nice to you.”
With an eyeroll, he wrapped his arms around you too, “Fine but only because you’re my girl.”
When John B finally showed up, you and JJ were sitting on the couch scrolling through twitter together with a plate full of pizza rolls on the table in front of you. John B lifted a heavy looking cooler over the threshold and set it down next to the table, he huffed when you two didn’t even look at him, “Hey you lazy fucks, here’s the alcohol, venmo me $20 each please.”
You walked to the cooler to grab a few beers for you and JJ while he set up drunk jenga on the table and yelled out for the other residents of the house to come play. Using one of your rings, you popped the bottles open and handed one to JJ before sitting back down next to him on the couch.
Several rounds were played as you got into a comfortable buzz. One of the freshman brothers of JJ’s frat was assigned designated driver, so he sat on the floor near you, sipping on water instead of beer with the rest of you.
After Pope lost the third round in a row he stood up, annoyed, “I’m going to play beer pong, anyone up to join?”
And obviously you were down. You followed him over for a solos game and JJ followed close behind you. Pope was a little drunker than you because of all his losses, but he was still a pretty good pong player anyway, definitely one of the best in the house behind JJ.
One of his shots hit the rim of one of your cups just as JJ blew smoke in your face, causing you to miss the swat. You glared at him, “Fuck off, J.” Of course, it landed in another cup and you quickly drained both cups before tossing the ball back to Pope.
“Fuckin right, JJ,” Pope cheered, “keep up the good distraction work.”
Pope missed the rest of his shots, and you shoved JJ away long enough to make three in a row. And from that point on, you were on fire, making quick work of the rest of the game. JJ cheered as you sank the last shot and wrapped an arm around you excitedly, “That’s my girl!”
You weren’t really in the mood to black out that night, and you knew you’d be drinking downtown, so you declined Pope’s rematch challenge.
When the sober freshman finally managed to gather everyone up to be dropped off downtown, you found yourself squished in the back seat between JJ and Sarah who had been pretty quiet all night, really only talking to John B. You didn’t know much about Sarah, just that JJ didn’t like her much plus some of the stories he’d told you that didn’t give the best impression.
Kie met you in front of your favorite bar, and your group quickly shuffled inside, barely stopping to get your hands stamped before going up to the bar. Your roommate worked there and gave you discounted drinks, so it was always your starting spot.
She leaned over the bar to press a kiss to your cheek and slid a vodka cranberry to you, “Cheers, bitch,” she yelled over the blasting music.
JJ ordered shots for the group and you ordered a beer for him in return. The whole group quickly took the lemon-flavored shots and you pulled JJ onto the dance floor, barely giving him enough time to grab the beer off the bar.
An hour and three vodka cranberries later, you were screaming along to Post Malone’s I Fall Apart, one hand holding an empty cup and the other clutching the back of JJ’s neck. He was laughing at you slurring the lyrics, but he was just as drunk, and you really considered kissing him to shut him up, not for the first time.
But before you could work up either the nerve or the coordination, the song ended and he leaned down to talk in your ear, “Wanna head next door, John B just texted me they’re doing half priced shots for the football win today?”
You nodded and stepped away from him, which was a little disappointing, but JJ didn’t let you go far. He wrapped his arm around your waist and let you lead the two of you off the dance floor and out of the bar. The air outside was warm, but cooler than inside, and a breeze chilled your sweat soaked neck.
The two of you stumbled inside the building next door and met your friends at the bar where they had shots lined up for you. With a cheer, everyone slammed their shot glass on the bar twice and tossed it back.
Three hours later, you and JJ stumbled out of your fourth bar of the night and headed slowly down the sidewalk, hanging onto each other. JJ’s arm was thrown around your shoulder and your arm was wrapped tightly around his waist, hand gripping his t-shirt.
You weren’t sure how, or why, but the two of you ended up on campus, two miles away from the bar. JJ stumbled over to the fountain in the center of the quad and climbed onto the raised edge. He was swaying and you were suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to shove him in. So you did, and unfortunately, he grabbed your arms and pulled you in with him.
“Fuck, J, why?!”
He splashed you with a bright, dopey smile, and you rolled your eyes, kicking water back in his direction. That started a fight, one you weren’t prepared for, and he overwhelmed you quickly, moving closer to wrap his arms around you.
Before you even realized what was happening, he was kissing you. You responded immediately, returning the kiss enthusiastically. It seemed to go on forever before you heard yelling coming from the edge of the quad.
JJ turned and waved clumsily at his freshman brother who had apparently tracked the two of you down to drive back home. He huffed at the two of you exasperatedly and held out towels, “Thank god for snap maps but Jesus fuck, the fountain…really guys?”
You started giggling and climbed into the backseat, plucking the juul out of JJ’s fingers to take a hit of your own before he could bring it to his lips.
“You owe me so many pods.”
Pouting, you held onto his hand, “But you love me so I get privileges.”
JJ muttered something under his breath and you leaned in trying to hear. He raised his eyebrows at you encroaching his personal space and spoke up, “Yeah I guess I do, you absolute menace.”
“Good because I love you too and that’s why I’ve been letting you drag my pong record down for two years now.”
Instead of answering, he just rolled his eyes and kissed you again.
#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank fic#outer banks fic#outer banks#jj maybank headcanon#jj maybank x you#outer banks headcanon#obx#college jj
263 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prize Buck
I’m out of my hiatus. I was asked for Klaus Headcanons, wrote a smut fic after work today instead whoops
A/N: drug use, addiction, oral(m/f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap that shit folx), female or nb afab reader, thinking sad thoughts while doing sexy things, sorta sub!Klaus, mental health issues, roughness, unedited, i added a line that only makes sense if you read the comics
———————————————
“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never done this? You?” Klaus asks, bringing the bowl and the lighter closer to you. You hadn’t, in honesty. You were the worlds most casual of casual stoners. You’d roll a joint if the mood struck you; meticulously crafted and thin for the perfect little heady time. Or you’d take a hit from a bong at a friends house, only if they offered to smoke you out. Really though, weed wasn’t your thing, it just had to become a part of the routine now because there weren’t other options. You couldn’t get your normal poison, amphetamines, so feeling uncontrollably sluggish instead of uncontrollably wired was the new normal.
A non-committal head shake was all you could offer. He was right to be incredulous at that revelation. You had met in rehab, for god’s sake. Klaus had, no HAS, a lot of problems, some you watched him scream and sweat through during his first week in the room across the hall from you. You were the one that he woke up constantly, because your crash left you near coma and crying when you were conscious. Despite making your recovery hell, he was the only one you could talk to when the tears subsided. Before rehab, you were a a published scholar at the height of your career, working with a newly discovered artifact from an anthropology dig. You’d spent your career hopped up on all of the meds you could find, culminating this research, staying up for thirteen days before having a breakdown in which you break the artifact from shaking so hard and crash your car fleeing the research center with your writing.
Weed was new. It was never your thing. But Klaus was new too, and he was your thing. You’d become fast friends in group therapy sessions, and inseparable out of them. It was unorthodox and frowned upon, but you became roommates once you’d gotten out. Just a small studio above a shop. A couch and a mattress that you’d switch off sleeping on, or you’d just both crash on the flood a hairs breadth away from snuggling. But it was the option that worked. You’d both confided that true sobriety wasn’t an option. So instead of anything hard, it was weed and alcohol. This was something that wouldn’t kill you or get you sent back. Controllable. And maybe one day you’d be able to go into a different field. Get an apartment with an actual bedroom. Maybe he could be able to shut out some of his power. But for now, this is what would work. It was a transition that made sense to you.
“I just can’t believe you’ve never shotgunned a bowl. Don’t all the great writers have their little parties where they smoke each other out? Isn’t that how Mary and Percy had that orgy with Lord Byron?” You wanted to correct him that you were a disgraced anthropologist, not a writer, but his warm thigh nudging yours reminds you now isn’t really the time. You give a weak smile instead.
“I guess since you’re the only person I smoke with, you’d be the only person to shotgun me.” He scooches closer to you, earthy scent already working wonders to entrance you. You wonder if he knew he had this effect on your mind and body.
“So you’ll let me shoot you now?” He asks. You smile, a little anxious, a little toothy.
“Shoot me? What am I, a ten point buck?”
There’s going to be a great feat of self control to keep yourself from jumping the curly haired man next to you, and self control is not one of your strong suits. You were head over heels in lust with Klaus and you didn’t even know if he was into women.
He begins with an unceremonious prodding at the fresh ground bud in the glass bowl with his pinky. Then he flicks the gas station lighter once. Twice. A spark. The flame dips into the bowl and there’s a soft crackle that’s accompanied and fueled by Klaus’ plump lips wrapping around the head of the pipe. It’s almost obscene to look at and you find yourself shifting uncomfortably. Well, not uncomfortably, but not in a way that’s appropriate for this setting. There’s probably more than a slight chance Klaus knows you’re aroused, but he’s being polite about it. Even now, as his lungs are filling up with smoke, and he’s puffing out his cheeks like a chipmunk, there’s this ebbing and throbbing between your legs.
And now, for the shotgun itself. You know he’s blowing all the smoke in his body into your mouth, but the last thing you expect is how it feels to actually have his lips on yours. At first he’s methodical, a slow diaphragm push of smoke into your mouth, your lips parted slightly and drinking in the smoke as it comes. But no, that’s not enough; not giving Klaus enough access to deliver the goods. He makes quick work of parting your lips further by a harsh squeeze to your jaw. The way the smoke and his tongue invade your mouth does nothing to help curb the lack of self control you possess as you moan wantonly into the kiss. The shotgun. You could be addicted to this alone.
By the time he pulls away, you feel like a balloon in that you’re floating, and the hand you have securely placed on your roommates thigh is the only thing keeping you from floating out the window and into some electrical wires or into a tree for birds to choke to death on. You start low, reddened eyes looking from your hand on his thigh, up to his chest. Klaus’ chest is almost always bare. His arms and the muscles of his abdomen were littered with the odd scar and tattoo here and there. He told you they’re from fighting in Vietnam in the 1960s and France in the 1400s. When he said it, he was so earnest you could do nothing but believe him. Then your eyes travel a little more north, to his lips. He needs a shave; his mustache and his chin getting a bit too scraggly, but they tickled when you came together for the smoke. And then you finally meet his eyes, unabashed that you just drank him in like lemonade. His pupils are blown wide when you finally look into them; not something weed would do to you. No, this was something else.
“Another?” He asks, voice trembling and breathy, not above a whisper.
“I- I want more.” Your voice coming out a tad huskier than you intended, not masking how his actions had an effect on you. Your skirt feels entirely too open right now. If you were wearing jeans, or tight pants like his, you’d feel some kind of restraint. Like a chastity belt, you think, some real medieval torture. But it would be all too easy to lift this skirt, or even to shift your hips and grind against something for even a tiny iota of relief.
You don’t even watch Klaus take the hit this time, only turning your head back to face him when you hear him stop sucking. This time, he sets the bowl down before leaning in. Your mouth is open and ready for him, already a quick learner from what just transpired. So Klaus doesn’t grab your jaw this time. Instead, he grabs the hand that’s still resting on his thigh.
And he shoves it towards the crotch of his pants.
Where your open palm lands clumsy and hard against the hardness straining at his pants.
He groans as contact is made and almost coughs the rest of the smoke into your mouth, but you’re there to suck it down in stride. There’s only a quick pause for you to exhale this now twice filtered smoke before your lips re-attach to his, the bowl and lighter now forgotten.
His hand drifts to your jaw a second time, before sliding down further to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, until it strains your back. He knows you fell asleep on the couch last night, so he knows how much this burns your taught muscles. All to his advantage it seems, as you shift your weight to your knee before turning and straddling him, all without breaking the kiss or your removing your hand from his clothed cock. Your skirt pools at where both of your hips meet, and he readjusts it -ever the gentleman- for you as you begin to knead and squeeze him beneath your hand.
Instead of smoke now, your mouths fill with the moans and sighs of each other, both refusing to end the kissing first and both running out of air. The onslaught of kissing continues through some under the shirt fondling, through Klaus less than gently pinching at your nipples, through you unbuttoning Klaus’ pants- now much too tight. He only breaks the kiss finally to beckon you,
“Stand up, I’ve got something else I want to show you”
Wobbly, you give his clothed cock one more squeeze before you rise to your feet.
While you move to reposition, standing over him now with your skirt bunched in one hand and your panties in another, he shimmies his pants down to his knees. All of your wondering if he was into more than just men is silenced when his tongue makes first contact with your clit. He takes the time to swirl his tongue tantalizingly slow, then quickly flicking his tongue upward, making your knees buckle until they land at the back of the couch just above his shoulders. You lean into it as he writes letters to you with his tongue, teasing the entrance to your cunt with his fingers and gathering the wetness until his fingers are slick.
You’re about to beg for it, cry for his fingers to penetrate you, but you don’t have to because he plunges in to the hilt. There is no easing into it, he thrusts his middle and ring finger at a break neck speed. Your skin feels white hot and the only purchase you can find is in squeezing the fabric balled in your palms and Klaus skewers you and torches every one of your nerve endings with his hot mouth and fingers.
Your high is coming to a head, literally and figuratively, when Klaus retracts all attention. You whine, pouting and pitiful, when he says something that surprises you:
“You’re gonna cum, right? Order me. Order me to make you cum. I’ll obey.”
So you do.
“Fuck— Klaus. Fuck! Make me cum. Make me cum on your face.”
When he returns to your cunt he’s unmerciful, working you back up to and through your high before you can even realize it’s happening. You barely savor it before you’re convulsing, sinking your knees further until they rest on his shoulders and he has to grab you by the ass to hold you up. You hadn’t been touched like this since before you had met Klaus, and you wanted more. Insatiable and prone, you make your next move untangling yourself from his grasp.
Sinking down, you feel the old wood creak beneath your stiff knees. This would hurt like a bitch, but when Klaus smiles down at you with his face covered in the wetness of your orgasm, you can’t find a reason to care. His smile is genuine, wide and splitting, the same look he gives you when you come home with pizza. Well, this was about to be better than pizza. The tip of your tongue touches the head of his cock first, a tiny testing lick earning a full body shudder from the man in front of you.
“Please don’t tease. Do a guy a favor. Please baby?”
You’re a sucker for his pleading, and just as he didn’t give you time to adjust, you don’t give him any warning before you sink your entire mouth down on him, only stopping to hollow out your cheeks when his tip hits the back of your throat. You hold it there for a moment, and then only gag as your lungs run out of oxygen. Klaus could be a substitute for oxygen, you’d gladly rather take him in than anything you would have tried before.
He whines, you notice. High pitched and needy. He would probably do anything I asked right now to cum, you think, but you quickly dismiss the thought. In a way you’re glad it’s you sucking his soul out through his cock and no one else, because he’s putting so much of himself into this. You wonder if he’s been taken advantage before. You hope not.
You banish the thought by moaning around the head of his cock. You revel in his reaction, to bury both of his hands in your hair as he all but sobs out “oh god please keep doing that” or something like that, you can’t really tell for sure over the rush his touch sends straight back down to your core.
As much as you want to worship his cock, your own tears from gagging on it start to sting your eyes. So you pull off him, just long enough to ask,
“Do you want me to finish you like this? Or another way?” Pausing to kiss the underside of his cock before adding, “You can have any part of me you want”
It’s like a flip switches, and he’s pulling you back up, pulling your skirt down and off of you in fluid motion, before you take your spot straddling him again. Impatient, he pushes you down onto him, thrusting away immediately finding a groove.
“Oh I’m gonna make you cum— gonna be real good for you. M-make you feel real good.” He’s a stuttering, groaning mess as he thrusts up into you.
“You feel amazing inside me. You’re doing so good, Klaus. Making me feel amazing,” you coo, doing everything to praise and encourage him. “I’m gonna cum, can you feel that? It’s all for you, do you want that— OH”
The thought caught mid air stopped short by a particularly accurate thrust right into a spot that makes you scream, your second orgasm of the afternoon now much closer than it had been. You feel your muscles clench as you bear down on him, trying to make Klaus hit that spot over and over. By the way his rhythm is almost non existent, you can tell he’s almost there too.
Something crosses your mind, and before you fully process the thought, one of your hands is wrapping around his throat, fingers and thumb squeezing deftly so that you don’t close the airway, but that he sees stars. That does it.
Klaus cumming is almost more beautiful than it feels. His cock twitches and paints your insides, and you cum from the sensation as well, but the blissed-out fucked-out face smiling up at you is to see heaven itself. His eyeliner is streaked with tears, his lips swollen and bruised, a smile splitting his face in two.
You move to get up, maybe clean yourself up, but at least put your panties back on. Klaus stops you though with his hands gently but firmly on your hips, holding you in place.
“Just stay. For a bit. I’m not one of those dames you can deflower and avoid their calling cards.”
A snort of laughter. A joke covering real insecurity; you can see right through it.
“Klaus, you were deflowered long before I ever got here, but I’m not gonna go anywhere. You shot me, I’m your prize buck.”
#my work#klaus x reader#klaus hargreeves x reader#klaus hargreeves imagine#klaus hargreeves smut#smut#tw drugs#addiction tw#drugs cw#prize buck series
330 notes
·
View notes
Text
08/15/2021
Well, at least school will be in-person again soon. In exactly 3 weeks I’ll be back to the old grind… sort of. Everyone at [School] is required to be vaccinated so I don’t have to worry too much, but regardless, I and everyone else will have to get tested monthly, and to wear masks at all times. I’m not looking forward to it. But whatever. It’s what I wanted, right? Supposedly?
There is almost no news to report, really. A------ and I have started going out to physical locations again. Like, we went on a bar crawl a few weeks ago. We’re back to going to restaurants. She can finally spend the night at my place (even though B-----n isn’t fully vaccinated, but who cares—if he gets sick, he gets sick. I may get a little flu-ish but so far no one in my age range has been hospitalized if they were vaccinated, and I’m in decent shape). So that’s nice. It was weird during the height of everything, between her and I. Not in a relationship sense, but in how we could hang out. Basically every weekend, I’d go to her place Friday, and leave Sunday after church (which good lord, I forgot how much I hate church, and they’re Catholic, so there’s an extra layer of shittiness to church, but I won’t get into that here). It was strange.
I would go to bed in their little guest room every Friday and Saturday night and wonder, is this normal? Do girlfriends’ parents normally let their daughter’s boyfriend just crash in the spare room every weekend? It was so odd. I’m not sure how to properly express it. Like, I almost felt bad that I was like an extra child of theirs, consuming their resources. They took her and I on this vacation to a lake house out in the middle of nowhere. It was really great, don’t get me wrong. I had a lot of fun, and honestly I feel like A------ and I grew as a couple as a result of cohabitating for so long, but I had this deep niggling feeling that I was doing something wrong by coming along. I don’t know. It was a fun trip though.
That was almost a year ago now. I spent a lot of time on the little dock by the water, fishing with her dad. I suck at fishing, but it was a halfway good time. A------ and I spent a lot of time indoors, either working on school stuff remotely, or watching movies late at night in the basement. During the days we didn’t have school things to be doing, we kayaked on the lake (like at least a few miles either time), fished together, and on the way home we hit a hiking trail really early in the morning. It was so nice. I can still remember the damp, cool October air biting at my skin while we walked. It was something like a 5 mile hike too, which is a lot for us, but we made it. It was a nice Autumn memory that I don’t think we would have been able to make in the midst of the pandemic if we hadn’t been able to get away to the middle of nowhere like we did.
Something unrelated I’ve been thinking about today is motivation. When I was younger, like middle-school younger, which by now is (good lord) 10 years ago, I used to draw and play music all the time. I used to think it was because I just liked to do it, but I’m beginning to realize, maybe that’s not true.
I used to have dreams of just running away and becoming a caricature artist on the boardwalk in NJ. Or to go become a busker and play guitar for tips. Neither ever panned out. The closest I came was going to the boardwalk with my cousins once, and drawing one stranger’s picture (rather poorly and unflatteringly); or maybe the handful of times J--- and I, or any of the bands we were in played at bars or coffee houses. We didn’t do these things for “fame” per se, but we always had it in the back of our minds that maybe someone would think we were good, and would want to hear us play more music. Or I thought maybe people online would suddenly start reposting my art, or at least it would get some traction or low-level internet fame. Obviously, neither of those things ever happened.
These days, I rarely draw or play music. I do it just enough to try to keep my old skills active, and not let them erode too much. They have, but I’m at least fighting it. But today, I had a rare treat—my roommates were both out of town until at least tomorrow. No one was home. I rarely have an empty house.
When I was like 16 (8 years ago?!) and my parents would leave the house, and my siblings were all gone, it was jam central, man. I’d be playing that guitar, and fucking wailing vocals, and just generally going to town. But today, with an empty house for the first time in god knows how long, I tried to do that again, and the magic was just gone. I didn’t really enjoy it. I’m not sure what happened. Maybe it’s that I’m not as good as I used to be, but I’m still decent at guitar, better than I was at the height of all of that stuff. I think what it was is that I’ve just given up.
It’s so hard to want to keep practicing a skill you know will never be appreciated, or really even enjoyed by anyone. Maybe someday, with a lot of work I could even be a great singer-songwriter or something, but I’ll never quit my day-job. In all likelihood, I’ll never be good enough to even play in those bars alone again. I’m the definition of “peaked in high school”, so what’s the point? Why try?
I don’t know. I wish I still could. I don’t care about “fame” or dumb shit like that, but it’s more of, what am I even doing this for? Why bother practicing if no one else cares? Just for myself? Ugh. I don’t care if I get good at it. Why does anyone do anything? Why am I going to school for something I vaguely care about. Why keep at anything. Why do anything.
I could just lay in bed all day, working from home at some bullshit half-assed job and collect money. I’ve done that in the past. Why not go back to that? Why is that so dissatisfying if the alternative is also dissatisfying? What do I even want to do with my life? It’s too late to do anything now. I’m fucking locked into this Ph.D. stuff, and I do think, at least in an abstract sense, what I want to do is teach. But it’s so hard to care sometimes.
I just wish I cared about things anymore. I don’t. I miss caring.
Why did I quit smoking weed if I wasn’t gonna care about stuff anyway? Fuck.
#journal#diary#motivation#covid#coronavirus#school#grad school#depression#i used to like things#i don't anymore#hobbies#nothing interests me anymore#anhedonia#sad#despair
1 note
·
View note
Text
Signed, Sealed, Delivered | (4/?)
Title: Signed, Sealed, Delivered
Summary: Jan is in love with her French pen pal, Nicky. Her roommate, Crystal, is in love with her best friend, Gigi. A (perhaps ill-thought out) plan emerges: give Nicky a reason to visit by inviting her to Crystal and Gigi’s wedding. With a month to pull the scheme together, no one knows how this will end up.
Word Count: ~2.9k (this chapter) / ~11.6k (total)
Relationship(s): Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode, Sportsmethyd (Jan Sport/Crystal Methyd)
Rating: E
Read on AO3
Crystal was excited for today; it was probably the best part of pretending to be engaged, enough to make her wonder why she hadn’t thought of this sooner. Today, she and Gigi were going wedding cake testing. They had lined up three different bakeries after finding out which ones didn’t charge for the consultation, and they had just arrived at bakery number one.
“I’m not very picky about flavor or anything, I’ll try whatever you recommend,” Crystal was saying. “However, my wife-to-be here especially loves red velvet, but doesn’t really like chocolate, which is weird to me, but we’ll probably go with what she wants.”
When the baker went into the kitchen, Gigi turned to Crystal with a surprised expression. “How did you know my cake preferences?”
Crystal shrugged. “You’ve mentioned it a couple of times, and I know you always get excited when they have red velvet muffins in the dining hall.”
“Oh,” Gigi felt a fluttering in her heart that she couldn’t – or rather wouldn’t – explain. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked down. “Well, you’re more observant than I give you credit for, then.”
“I get that a lot,” she mused, then sat upright when the test slices were brought out. She tried to listen to the descriptions, but she was practically salivating and dug in as soon as she could. “Now the texture of this is really nice, I like how it brings out the subtle flavor notes.”
Gigi covered her mouth to hide a laugh. “You’ll have to excuse her, she binge-watched Cake Wars last night,” she explained, gently patting Crystal’s thigh. After that, they got through the rest of the tasting without incident, and they told the baker they’d be in touch and left with the leftovers (that they hid in Gigi’s oversized purse so they could go and do the same at the next two bakeries).
Crystal patted her stomach in satisfaction as they made their way back to her apartment. “I can’t believe we never thought to pull a stunt like this before. It’s like telling the waiter it’s your birthday so they give you free ice cream or something,” she mused.
“I feel kinda bad though, we should order something from those places. Just, you know, not a wedding cake,” she added.
“Oh yeah, for sure,” Crystal readily agreed. “So, did you hear back from your friend about doing a photoshoot?”
Gigi nodded, smiling brightly. “Yeah, thanks for reminding me, actually. Does Saturday afternoon work for you?”
She nodded. “Totally. How’s it gonna work? Like, are we gonna be in our dresses, or is it gonna be something different? I don’t know how this works.”
“We’ll do some in the dresses, some in different outfits. It’ll give me the motivation to finish the fucking thing so I don’t try to pull an all-nighter right before it’s due,” she decided. As they kept walking, her hand kept brushing against Crystal’s, until she just caved and held her hand. It wasn’t like she hadn’t before, but it felt different this time. Holding Crystal’s hand had never made her heart skip a beat before, and she was yet to figure out how much she liked that.
It was different for Crystal. She already knew how she felt, and maybe that made it easier for her. She could allow herself to just appreciate the small act of affection, even though she did have to look away when she started smiling too wide. She probably wouldn’t try to overanalyze it until she was alone, at least. All she could do at the moment was appreciate being close to her, as it never seemed she could get close enough.
They’d both stopped thinking about it by the time they got home, and Crystal put the cake in the fridge, shooing away the cat at her feet. “Not a chance, Tic Tac, the vet already says you’re getting too fat.”
“Don’t body-shame her,” Gigi playfully chastised.
“I’m just being a concerned mother,” Crystal insisted, then looked over towards Jan’s room. She heard her voice, but couldn’t distinguish the words. “Ah, she must be working on the French song.”
Gigi tilted her head. “I’m gonna take a shot in the dark and assume it’s for Nicky, huh?” She let out a small laugh, though not in a mean way. “She’s… really crazy about her, huh?”
Jan came out of the room before Crystal could answer. “Hey, guys. How did the cake tasting go?”
“Great, there are leftovers in the fridge if you wanna pick at them,” Crystal offered. “How’s your song coming along? What’s it called again?”
“It’s called Aimé by Loane. I haven’t looked up the English translation, I feel like that kind of ruins it, you know? But when I heard it, it just made me think of Nicky, like deep in my heart, I just know it works,” Jan explained.
Gigi chewed on her lip, fighting back her words until she couldn’t anymore. “I’m sorry, I just don’t get it. How can you be so head over heels over someone you’ve never been in the same room with?”
Jan didn’t seem terribly bothered by this question, it wasn’t a new one to her. “She’s not written in braille, Gigi. I don’t need to touch her to know her.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got an emotional connection,” Gigi assured. “But have you even been with anyone since you guys started talking? Or are you really saving yourself for someone across the ocean? We all crave physical intimacy, you know?”
“Are you coming onto me?” Jan asked in an attempt to deflect. She glanced over at Crystal, whose face said ‘don’t you dare.’ to which she silently conveyed ‘I would never.’
Gigi didn’t notice any of that, just laughing it off. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t deprive yourself because you’re too busy pining to get laid.”
Jan chuckled softly. “I appreciate your concern about my sexual wellbeing, Geege. But I can take care of myself, and anyone else that comes along,” she glanced back towards the fridge. “I am gonna have my way with that leftover cake, though.”
------
Ever since Crystal and Jan had embarked on this unusual adventure, they had gotten closer. And they needed it, considering they had both been driving themselves crazy trying to pull off this scheme while they were in the midst of taking their finals. The end was around the corner, but trying to get through the final stretch left them tense and exhausted. So when they didn’t want to bother their respective love interests, they turned to each other.
“I keep thinking about what Gigi said,” Jan admitted as she passed the joint back to Crystal. She had never considered herself any sort of smoker, but Crystal was so comfortable with weed that it didn’t seem so scary, and it had actually become something that helped her unwind as well.
Crystal furrowed her brows as she took a hit, letting the smoke billow out in an O shape. “What? About you not getting laid because you’re always in your feelings about Nicky?”
“That’s one way to put it, yeah,” Jan chuckled softly, laying her head in Crystal’s lap. “Am I limiting myself just because of my feelings? It’d be different if we were in an actual relationship but… I don’t know. Have you hooked up with anyone since you realized you have a crush on Gigi?”
Crystal had to stop and think about it. “I… guess not, actually. Maybe that’s why we’ve been so fucking weird about all of this,” she mused.
Jan propped her feet up against the wall. “You think if we found someone to have a one-night stand with, we’d be able to get through finals, graduation, and the fake wedding with our sanity intact?”
“I dunno, I’m not a doctor,” Crystal shrugged. “But I do know sex releases endorphins and shit, like, all that good energy and stuff,” she mused and passed the joint back to Jan.
“Ugh, finding a good hookup is so much work,” she whined and took a hit, then gave it back to Crystal to finish off.
Crystal rolled her eyes affectionately as she finished it off. “I mean, it can’t be that hard for you, looking like that.”
“Just being a lesbian makes it hard, Crystal. You know that.” Jan huffed dramatically, then looked up at her. “I think we should make out.” It was the perfect solution, wasn’t it? If it was her, it wouldn’t count.
“Do you?” Crystal wasn’t as surprised by the suggestion as she thought she’d be, nor was she terribly put off by it. She and Jan were close, and they were going through the same struggles. Maybe this was what they needed to let off some steam. “Yeah, okay, I’m into it.”
Jan sat up, then moved onto Crystal’s lap. She rested her hands on the back of her head, fingers tangling in the mess of curly hair as their lips collided in a languid kiss. The lingering taste of pot was in their mouths, and Jan swore kissing her made her even more high.
Crystal loved the way Jan felt on top of her. She was soft and warm and she smelled so nice. Her arms looked around Jan’s waist, holding her close as the kiss deepened, their tongues intertwining.
“You’re a good kisser,” Jan observed when she came up for air, their foreheads still resting together. She then sat back, noticing Crystal’s grin and downcast gaze. “What?”
“Hm?” Crystal looked back up, her eyes a bit bloodshot and glossed over, but still full of the lighthearted joy that’d always been distinct to her. “Oh, I was just looking at your tits. They’re really nice,” she explained.
Jan snorted with laughter, then rested her head on Crystal’s shoulder as she giggled some more. “You’re such a perv!”
“You can’t call me a perv,” she pouted as if she took sincere offense, “it was your idea to start making out, you can’t fault me for getting more into it, especially when you know I get hornier when I’m high,” she defended.
“Oh my god,” Jan sat back upright, shaking her head. “Sometimes I forget that there’s a horndog underneath that quirky art student facade,” she teased.
Crystal shrugged, placing kisses up Jan’s chest and neck, then up her jaw until she lightly nipped at her earlobe. “I’m enigmatic, Jan. Get into it,” she cooed as her hands ran up and down Jan’s sides, making her tank top rise up a couple of inches, then shifted to playfully bite Jan’s bottom lip.
“You sure are something,” Jan chuckled before connecting their lips in another kiss. “You’re lucky I’m so touch-starved,” she added as she took her top off.
Crystal’s face lit up like an excited child. “Whatever you say,” she hummed, her hands moving right to Jan’s breasts, happily groping them over the purple lace of her bra as they went right back to their deep, relaxed kissing.
Jan took Crystal’s t-shirt off next, looking down at her bare chest. “I keep forgetting that you have your nipple pierced. It’s so pretty,” she remarked, lightly pinching and teasing it, rubbing it between her fingers. She had started to zone out, and it wasn’t until Crystal started moaning that she was brought back down to earth. “Guess it makes things more intense, huh?”
“Yeah,” she exhaled, “and we’re gonna end up doing a lot more than making out if you keep that up.”
“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but threatening to fuck me isn’t exactly… a threat,” Jan smirked as she continued toying with her nipple and the piercing.
Crystal pushed Jan onto the bed and pounced on top of her. It wasn’t in a dominant way, if anything, it bordered on playful. She kissed Jan heatedly, her hands haphazardly fumbling to get her bra off, smiling to herself when she finally tossed it onto the floor. She trailed her lips down Jan’s neck, starting to nip at the skin until Jan grabbed her shoulder.
“Nothing above the bust,” she murmured.
Crystal obliged, instead of leaving a hickey on the underside of Jan’s breast, then let her tongue flick across and swirl around her nipple. She then rolled the two of them onto their sides, making it easier for her to tug off Jan’s shorts. “You have a great ass too,” she remarked, reaching her hand around and grabbing onto it.
“You think so? I’ve actually always been jealous of yours,” Jan told Crystal as she tugged her shorts off too. “It’s so cute and perky,” she hummed, squeezing it with both hands.
“We’re clearly both super hot,” Crystal observed. “Like, I bet people would pay to watch us fuck,” she mused as she slid her hand into Jan’s panties and began circling her clit with two fingers.
“Mhm,” Jan moaned instead of properly replying, tugging Crystal’s boyshorts down and moving her hand between her thighs to do the same. “Fuck, you’re so wet. That piercing really does make your nipple sensitive, huh?”
Crystal grunted softly and rutted against Jan’s fingers. “You’re just jealous you have to work harder to get turned on,” she retorted as she eased a finger into her.
“Seem to be doing just fine right now aren’t I?” Jan hummed between moans. The two of them mirrored each other’s movements, whimpering and moaning as their fingers steadily thrust into each other, thumbs rubbing uneven circles against each other’s clits.
And then it started to turn into a competition, the two of them trying to get the other to come first. Eventually, Jan won, smirking in satisfaction as she felt her friend clench around her fingers. But she didn’t last much longer, gasping out sharply as she came.
Once they were both spent, they lay calmly in bed, cuddled up to each other. “Do you feel any better?” Jan asked.
“I think so, actually,” Crystal mused. “The feelings are still there, but they don’t seem so scary, you know?”
Jan nodded. “I don’t feel so overwhelmed,” she agreed, then leaned up and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, you’re such a good friend.”
Crystal beamed and held her close. “And don’t you forget it.”
------
Heidi stared blankly at Jan after hearing the rundown of her situation. “So… You lied to your French not-girlfriend by inviting her to Crystal and Gigi’s wedding that isn’t real, but Crystal has a big ol’ crush on Gigi, and now the three of y’all are staging a whole ass fake wedding while you’re still taking finals?”
“I only have one final left,” Jan defended, rubbing the back of her neck. “Also, last night Crystal and I got high and had sex.”
She blinked slowly. “First of all, why the fuck are you telling me this?”
“Because if I told Jackie, she would keep trying to solve the problem and be all lecture-y about it. And like, I know you’re gonna judge me too, but at least I don’t feel as stupid when you do it.”
“I feel like I should be offended by that,” Heidi murmured. “Second of all, what the fuck are you gonna do when Nicky comes out here. You just gonna be like ‘sike, gotcha!’ or something?”
Jan sighed and looked down at her cup, sipping from it for a couple of moments. “I don’t know, honestly. I was thinking of telling her that Gigi and Crystal decided to postpone it because they’re too young. That makes sense, right?”
Heidi shrugged. “Well, I don’t have any better ideas,” she admitted, then furrowed her brows. “Wait, why did you have sex with Crystal? Am I missing something here?”
“Because we’ve both been losing sleep and getting super stressed over everything piling up, and neither of us wanted to go through the process of finding another girl to hook up with. So, we just… had each other. It’s not gonna make things weird, our friendship isn’t like that,” Jan explained as she finished her drink.
“Damn, I need to find me a friend like that,” she chuckled, finishing her drink as well. “Do I at least get an invite to the fake wedding?”
Jan laughed softly. “Yeah, you’re totally fake invited to the fake wedding.”
Heidi beamed brightly. “Thank you. Hey, can I see a picture of your little croissant boo? I wanna see what the hell’s causing all of this fuss.”
“Oh, yeah, here, she just sent me her new headshots,” Jan hummed, getting her phone out and pulling the pictures up before handing her phone over.
She studied the pictures thoughtfully, nodding slowly. “Okay, yeah, I get it. I’d throw my closest friends into a whirlwind of chaos over that too,” she decided, handing the phone back to Jan. “I think you should tell her how you feel before she gets here, though.”
Jan tilted her head as she put her phone away. “You do? Why?”
“Think about it, if she feels the same, you guys will be distracted and shacked up in your room, and maybe she’ll forget about the whole thing. And if she doesn’t, you can throw out the whole plan ‘cause it won’t matter. It’s a win-win, how has this not occurred to you?”
There was silence as Jan chewed her lip, mulling it over. “I… Yeah, I guess you have a point. I don’t know.” She exhaled deeply and looked up to the sky. “I’ll think about it.”
#crygi#sportsdoll#sportsmethyd#the sportsmethyd is probably contained to this chapter dont worry lol#rpdr rpf
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey everyone,
I just want to give everyone a quick update as to what's going on with the scams or what's called operation drain and run out of the 200 that were arrested the other day most have been released must have been very forthcoming and giving information some of them have been detained further pending for their interview and or their charges are going to be dropped or reduced law enforcement agencies have confirmed that there are some more smaller cell operations of this type going on here in the United States and in Canada they are now getting in with the Canadian authorities to help with the investigation up there I can't tell you that 75 of the 200 people arrested the other day were members of Tumblr so basically yes they were right under our nose and we did not know it but I knew it.
I can also tell you that information from this point forward is going to be very slim because they are wanting to Big Cheese the people that are actually masterminding all this and they're going to have to start being careful what information they let out and that's totally acceptable to me I totally understand that and they did say the other thing about passing the info. on to you guys as much as they can. They said that I have been a big help in this there's been a few other people that have come forward they've also been assisting and helping out but I still need some more help so anything y'all got if it if it means you got scammed don't worry about being embarrassed you're not going to be judged or you're not going to be treated like shit just because you fell for it.
So now if you've noticed that I changed the format of my blog it makes it look like it's in a daily or weekly episodic TV show it's still called a slice of my world but it's also episode 1-18 this is starting to become a daily or actually it should say it bi-weekly thing of me posting and I have enjoyed it don't get me wrong but the title of this is called oh how things have changed and it's basically going to be a lot of difficult reading from this point forward but stuff that once you read it you'll understand why it has been so difficult I I'm going to Chronicle the night of January 20th of last year through the morning hours of January 21st which is what I considered the moment my life changed forever.
So we begin on January 20th 2020 I had to go to work I walked 4 miles to go to work because I didn't have a vehicle anymore and we were living in a motel so I had to you know make sure one of us is working until a lot of times where I was staying even hard for me to get a ride. So I work the 3:30 to close shift which basically meant I left between anywhere from between 12:30 and 1:00 in the morning I worked at a movie theater which by the way was probably the best job I had ever had in my life I I love that place I would love to go back to another one like it. So basically I got off work about 12:30 that night and normally I would have a ride to work on Monday nights this week it wasn't possible because of something that happened at the theater the manager got behind on his paperwork on and couldn't get out on time like he normally does I had to go to the store that night because we didn't have very much food so I went to store I got about 2 or 3 nights worth of food with enough till I get to my day off from work to go to the store and get more. That was a common occurrence so by the time I got done with the store and got home about 2:30 in the morning my wife was asleep she had been sick for about a month before this which now I have directly linked into being one of the first cases of COVID-19 in the united states'.
I came home and like I said she was asleep and I gave her a kiss like I usually do sometimes it wakes her up sometimes it doesn't this time it woke her up we start talking for a little bit I went outside and I did my usual ritual I go outside and smoke a little weed you know kind of relaxed a little bit for about 20-30 minutes yeah I went inside and cooked dinner now for a little background my wife had been sick for a while she had a heart attack November 8th in 2018 and then she had a stroke Easter Sunday of 2019 a stroke that she refused to go get taken care of even though I begged her and had other people beg her to go to the hospital she would not do it when she had the heart attack the doctor was not able to fix all the blockages to her heart because some of the arteries were too small so he told me privately that if she had another heart attack she wouldn't survive it I knew that I told her that about 3 months later so she knew but on this night I never had any dream or knowing that 2 hours after I got home from work she would be dead she had a massive heart attack I was just getting ready to start cooking dinner when she started really screaming about chest pain and I've never heard her go off like she did and even though I called 911 it still took the damn people 20 minutes to get out there otherwise I still think she'd be alive but then again maybe not so to try to make a long story short they would not let me ride in the ambulance with her to the hospital she was still coherent but when they did the ekg in the room where we were staying at I could tell the guy's eyes that she wasn't going to be much longer and I think the reason why they told me I couldn't ride with them was because for the same Theory I think that they didn't want my last memory of her to be of her fighting for her life and dying and I am thankful for that because I've had horrible nightmares about this whole thing and so after I made all the notifications and everything that day I went back to work two days later and I was told I could stay out as long as I needed to they were really really super awesome and amazing to me hell they were even responsible for giving me the money to get my wife buried because they donated money they put a pool in together to help me. The thing about it was is I don't know what upset me more the fact that I wish there was something more I could have done or the fact that I had to have a fucking cop show up to my door to tell me that she was gone even though I had already known it. So when I went back to work two days later it was very very hard because she used to work there too and she used to work at the podium on the weekends where she took the tickets and everything and told people where the theaters were and everything else and I wasn't there for 2 hours and I just doubled over it was just like a big flood of emotion but I made it that night but the hard part was with the weekends because those were the nights that she worked the most everybody loved my wife it worked up there and so I mean I didn't feel like I was so alone then the pandemic came I lost my job I lost my place where I was staying I had to go to my sister-in-law's house which was the biggest mistake of my life cuz I really found out what kind of people they were plus that's when I developed a curiosity for methamphetamine and then I met the bitch from hell not even 2 months later and keep in mind she was just supposed to be a companion we weren't like going to be boyfriend girlfriend cuz I still way too broke up about my wife's death that's all I wanted cuz I couldn't stand being lonely anymore just like I can't stand it now but she got me hooked on meth and I say she got me hooked because she kept bringing it around me knowing that I found something new that I really liked and I didn't ask her to bring it around I could have said no but this has to do with that 28 day period from June to July where she was drugging me putting the dope in my food in my drinks that's why I blame her.
Then after my ex got murdered at a house party I lost my sister-in-law and nephew and then my step daughter called me one day two weeks before Christmas to tell me that she lost her fiance her baby's daddy after he had a heart attack from A congenital heart defect that he had for 6 years the only bright spot of 2020 was my step daughter had a daughter of her own and that to this day that baby is my love bug
As where I'm at right now I'm going to be homeless by next weekend again unless I can come up with $250-300 dollars by Friday night it doesn't look like it's going to happen folks unless I can get some donations and get them quick I am taking donations right now if you can help I don't care if it's 5 10 15 20 $25 whatever it is it will help I don't expect nobody to give me the money all at once cuz I know a lot of people don't have that kind of money right now so just little donations will help right now I had to actually go to Walmart today and steal food God I hate myself for doing it I didn't get caught but still my conscience was getting the best of me for much of the evening I got enough food here to last me for 2 or 3 days if I end up getting to stay here but like I said it's not looking very good at this point I've tried local resources I've tried all kinds of Charities help and all they want you to do is hurry up and wait and I ain't got that kind of time and I told him that so I I'm asking for any help that anyone could give if I don't get if I can get at least $250 out of 400 I can go get me a motel room for the week and I'll get me by until I can come back here when my roommate comes back cuz then he'll have the money for the rent and everything else so I can come back here so I just need to really get by for a week I have not had any dope in nine days I'm going crazy but I need a place to live first before I can be doing that shit so I'll just have to deal with it if you want to help I'll give you my cash app I will put it at the end of this post for everybody so the last 18 months has not been fun I went to six suicide of Temps and I just been existing when before I had it all anyway so that's basically going to end this episode of a slice of my world I'm sorry if this was such a downer for a lot of people but you know I the more and more I feel like I tell my story easier everyday gets for me cuz I don't feel like I'm burying myself with all the emotion and having to keep it bottled up anyway I will talk to you y'all whenever I talk to you I may be on Hiatus for a little bit because I won't have a phone here after tomorrow unless I go someplace that has Wi-Fi and depending on my living situation I mean like I said I'm I'm hoping and praying somebody will be able to help out by donating a little bit of money to me so I can keep a place over my head somehow someway anyway y'all. I love you take care of yourself and I'll see you on the other side
Cashtag $jojo091069
PayPal
Venmo
Google pay
Message for those tags I left blank as I don't know them by heart yet
Love,. Sean
1 note
·
View note
Text
Sunday, April 18, 2021 - 10:00pm
{mostly taken from a conversation with my best friend, Jem - there were some bits that I thought were worded well}
Royal (2:26 PM): Sometimes I think about taking antidepressants again if only to numb the pain. And then I remember how it made me too numb and to everything, so then I think about drinking or doing edibles, but then it still sounds awful and could possibly amplify those feelings (as alcohol usually does make me feel more upset). And that’s sometimes why self-harm becomes a substitute, because it ether distracts from those feelings or even makes you feel like your receiving punishment for whatever you’re upset about. But I know self-harm turns into a loop of guilt and shame and worrying about worrying others.
Jem (2:27 PM): I haven't heard the same about edibles that I hear about alcohol
Or marijuana in general I suppose
Royal (2:28 PM): Weed scares me. Like I’m worried I’ll have a reaction because whenever people smoke or cook it around me, I get super sick feeling. I also know Kitty had a bad reaction to edibles, like gave her ultra anxiety and hallucinations or something like that.
Jem (2:29 PM): Ah, gotcha I myself am allergic so I can't say I've tried it myself either
Royal (2:29 PM): I think I might be allergic and I don’t wanna find out the hard way
When people smoke/cook it around me, I get nauseous and a headache
Jem (2:32 PM): Yeah, I used to have two roommates that both smoked weed in our tiny apartment I used to have near constant headache until I moved out the next year
Royal (2:33 PM): I wish I could just remove those negative feelings I have: anger, sadness, jealousy, dysphoria, etc Put them somewhere far away so I wouldn’t have to deal with them, and wouldn’t have to hurt others because of them
(I tend to use dysphoria for myself as an in general term, not just with gender dysphoria, btw)
Jem (2:34 PM): Aah, yeah, I get you
Royal (2:38 PM): But even though I’m scared I’ll have a bad reaction, I’m mighty tempted to ask Hummingbird if I can try one of her edible gummies rn...
Jem (2:41 PM): I wonder if there's a way to try it in a safe/monitored way
Royal (2:41 PM): Well, if I do just one gummy
With their supervision
So if I have a bad reaction, they can watch over me or drive me to the urgent care
I love how it’s called urgent care but usually has like an hour or longer wait
Jem (2:43 PM): Ah yeah, that'd be the best way to do it Keep the phone handy too
Royal (2:45 PM): Hey, at the very least, doesn’t look like it has any interactions with my cholesterol medication
Jem (2:46 PM): That's good to know
Royal (2:50 PM): I don’t think I’ll actually follow through with it or anything, just my mind thinking of solutions
I’m feeling calmer now anyway
For now
{And then proceeded to draw this (it’s an idea I’ve had this idea for a long time now, especially since the first time I experienced extreme jealousy with Capy, but never had the courage to follow through since I’ve never done inking and rarely traditional colour, but I finally worked up the motivation to try, and honestly, it’s perfect timing as it was therapeutic to draw)}:
Royal (8:09 PM): Random question, I’m curious your thoughts on this: do you think it’s insensitive to joke about getting with other people when you’re in a relationship, especially/at least in front of your partner (at least if the two of you haven’t established a non-monogamous relationship), and even more so if you know your partner is dealing with jealousy issues?
Jem (8:12 PM): I’d think so, yeah
It's definitely odd
Unless it's like, I donno, a celebrity or something
But even then, it'd make me wonder why someone would say that if they knew already their partner was having issues
Royal (8:12 PM): Like someone they know/knew or met in the past, but 100% out of the picture now
So it’s def not a celeb
Jem (8:14 PM): Yeah then even without the jealousy issues, unless that's some sort of pre-established shared humor, it's kinda weird
Royal (8:15 PM): K, I was curious what you’d think
I agree with that too, it just feels really insensitive, at least if you’re monogamous
{Whilst I never told Jem what it was about, it has to do with something similar that had happened earlier today - though I am not technically in a monogamous relationship, so the above can’t fully apply to me. But to explain this better, I’ll have to jump back to something that happened in December 2020.
Capybara had told me about how there was this really attractive lecturer he met in the past whom if I remember correctly, spoke Greek, so his friend got him a Greek dictionary to help him try to impress her, but he never really ran into her again. I had made a comment that you know, guess it worked out for the better because then we would have never become a thing should he have actually succeeded in getting with her. And he made a joke that wasn’t the case or a joke that brushed off what I said as almost nothing. I knew he was joking, but it was kinda a really emotional time for everyone and I’m still even to this day working through my newfound romantic/sexual jealousy issues, so I took it kinda harsh at first and then eventually told him that same night how that kinda made me feel shitty.
Well, today, we were gaming with one of his friends (super great, hardworking, and nice lad) that we often play Sea of Thieves with and it turns out that was the same friend who got him the Greek dictionary, so it somehow got brought up in conversation…and just…they were joking that Capybara was Odysseus and this other woman was Odysseus’s wife and they’d find each other again one day. I can’t remember which character they assigned the friend but they were saying I could be one of the gods, and I’ll be honest, didn’t handle that situation the best, so I made a off hand comment of something like, “Guess I can be Athena or Aphrodite since they’re the jealous types, guess that works pretty well.” Don’t know if they picked up the hint. I don’t know if they were at all thinking about how this was something awkward for me, cuz I’m pretty sure the friend is aware that I’m dating Capy and is supposed to assume we’re monogamous as Capybara doesn’t really feel comfortable letting his friends or family know I have other partners. It just also happened to be a sore topic for me, cuz when Capy made that joke, even though I knew it was nothing more than a joke, it made me feel like nothing and replaceable, which I already see myself as.
Just to kinda let Capybara know that I’d prefer the topic to be dropped, I messaged him privately: “So I just remembered, it was you talking about that Greek dictionary thing to impress that girl and making a joke that like, meeting me wasn’t for the better cuz she’s still out there that kinda made me feel like shit even though it was a joke”
To which he responded with: “she's a lecturer my dude 😂 she's like in her 40's - don't worry”
And I replied with: “No I know, but it was more of the joke that followed that rubbed me wrong. At the time”
And he just sent these two emoji’s in response: 😧 😕
Immediately after our messages, as we had still been playing, he went dead silent and so I noticed this (not sure if the friend did at first) and I at first just tried to silently apologize in DM, cuz I hadn’t meant to upset him, but he still remained silent. So shortly after, I asked if we should call it quits even though it was early. I felt so guilty and I immediately sent him more apology messages and even an apology voice memo, but I assumed he turned his phone off by that point.
Once again, my jealousy got the best of me and I hurt the person I love most in the world and made a fun time involving friends go awkward. I was having a good early afternoon/late morning with him at first, and then I ruined it because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut and my jealousy under control. I’m such an asshole.}
Royal (8:22 PM): Off topic, but still on the issue of jealousy, I feel like when I have jealousy issues myself at the point I’m at, it’s like a double headed snake due to me being in a polyamorous relationship - one head are just the pre-established toxic/venomous things that come with jealousy and the other head is the guilt and shame of feeling I have no right to be jealous when I have two other partners myself thus making me feel hypocritical (and being ignorant of any potential jealousy from other partners)
It feels like those two snake heads could eat me alive with just a few bites each if I let them in
It’s such a viscous cycle and honestly, the basic head of jealousy is enough of a problem that turns my stomach, but the second head just makes me want to surrender to the earth
Jem (8:28 PM): I get you It's a lot
Emotions are hard
Royal (8:28 PM): Especially when they revolve around something or someone you already have such an emotional attachment with
And then those feelings, like feelings of jealousy, only end up making you hurt the ones you love
Making them feel guilty or annoyed or like you don’t trust them or something
Jem (8:31 PM): Tbh, as someone who generally struggles with a lot of jealousy type issues, I get that (not necessarily romantic jealousy even, but just there's undercurrents of it that are always there and present in every relationship)
I don't think it's something that can ever be fully dealt with and just I guess has to be accepted and worked around At least for me
Royal (8:33 PM): And it makes you wonder if you truly care for those if you’re so easily jealous of them, since they tell you that shouldn’t feel that way if you really love someone, that you should be able to love them blindly and trust them, and it’s not like I don’t trust, but I feel so easily discardable by those who I could never even fathom of turning my back on
Royal (8:34 PM): Honestly, I’ve even felt some jealousy toward you in the past - not romantically - but it was something I worked on
Jem (8:34 PM): What if I were to say same though haha
Royal (8:34 PM): You seemed to be doing so well with you VN and you picked up art so fast
Jem (8:35): Aah for me it's always revolving around
My need for attention tbh
Royal (8:35 PM): But I told myself, “you just need to keep trying. Feeling negatively toward someone success is selfish and gets you nowhere. Improve yourself and you can also feel that success. He’s not succeeding to hurt you in anyway - you should be happy for him.”
Or like, probably not those exact words, but ya know, that idea
Royal (8:36 PM): Yeah, I understand that too, especially growing up in a family of 6
That kinda happened the other day with Kitty (whom at this point my feelings are pretty platonic) - for over a week now I’ve been telling the girls about a game (For the King) I’ve been interested in playing with them, and the other day, Hummingbird went on a social distancing date with Crystal, so I asked Kitty if she’d like to play with me since it’d be just the two of us and she agreed. However, she had a headache, so we thought it’d be best if she napped first and if she felt better later on then we could play. When she woke up, Lapis hit her up for some gaming and Kitty decided to game with her instead and forgot she agreed to game with me...
Jem (8:41 PM): Ah, that kinda thing really sticks with me
Royal (8:41 PM): And so I’m just getting to a point where I feel like I should just stop asking them if they wanna game with me, because it’s not the first time something like this has happened (at least they don’t follow through, not a matter of them deciding to do something with someone else)
Like, I made the Murder Beans server so Capybara and Kitty (and Hummingbird if she ever decided to get Among Us) could game with my friends in the CSR Creations server, and that was back in fall...the girls never joined a game even when showing express interest and saying they would
Kitty also once went and bought Lapis like the whole Halo Master Chief Collection for Lapis cuz she was broke and wanted it, and the proceeded to play it with her and Hummingbird...and like...I also would have liked to have played Halo with them if given the opportunity, but I was never asked
Sheezus, don’t even get me started in my family and how invisible they made me feel
But yeah, I’m at a point with the girls that I don’t think it’s even worth bothering to ask anymore, at least about gaming
Hummingbird’s confusion and migraines are also coming back, so she has a legit medical excuse and I can’t really bother her about it
Jem (8:48 PM): I get you, yeah
All of those things would really bother me too They have in the past
I remember when I first joined UCSD, I started hanging out often with the girls that lived around me in the dorms And we all started watching Orphan Black together
And then I literally had no idea when they finished the show because after the first couple sessions they forgot to invite me
Royal (8:51 PM): Oof, yeah, that’d bother me too, or at least tell me how they felt about me in my mind
I don’t think with my jealousy, it’s a matter of not trusting my partner or friends or whomever, it’s just a matter of feeling such low self-worth that I feel easy to discard, and when I get brushed to the side or have someone joking along the lines as how dating me wasn’t for the better when someone else is out there, it furthers those feelings I have about myself, those feelings of self-worth and how I’m replaceable or not worth shit
Jem (8:54 PM): I get you I know mine stems from feeling forgettable
Royal (8:54 PM): I know I’m an annoying person, I know I can be a lot and emotionally draining, I know I can be hypersensitive - so I know it feels like it’d be better to be rid of that sort of force if you can find someone better who doesn’t make you feel the way I’d do
(In response to feeling forgettable) Yeah
If you remove the fun hair, piercings, and tattoo, I’m actually quite a boring person
And I’m quite isolated. If you don’t include my partners, there’s only really two people who come to mind that I’d consider close friends that I can talk to: you and someone else (you’ve never met her)
I’m getting to a point where I have a hard time talking to the girls due to the guilt I feel about me more or less wanting to be platonic with them, and then Hummingbird is constantly having a medical crisis and I’d feel bad burdening her further
So really, I’m isolated down to two people, primarily you, + Capybara, and yeah, that’s my own fault
I feel easily exhausted by my other options at this point, where I feel like I can only take Candy in small doses (which feels really hypocritical of me) and my other VA friends or gaming friends, I don’t know if I’m close enough to have those kinds of conversations with, especially the VA friends since I tend to be their boss
For the most part, the other people I’d sometimes talk about these issues with are on servers that are primarily dead, so it feels awkward to hop back in only to bitch about my life
Besides, I hate seeming like I’m only spewing forth toxicity and negative emotions over and over again
Which I worry I do too much with you as is
#mood journal#mood#depression#jealousy#envy#guilt#shame#polyamory#nonmonogamy#non monogamy#monogamy#love
1 note
·
View note
Last Seen Blogs
arthur-is-gay-for-merlin
♛ Just hold me... Please ♛
yunm1
BIGGEST HIT ON THE STAGE
fierifiction
Fieri Fiction
deejayarto
Lines and Color
noahlight
Noah Light Visions