#(i realize these are real places too but two things can be true)

[emiliosandozsequence]

i can't be the only one, but i'm living under the assumption that pirates of the caribbean and black sails take place in the same universe; the characters just don't interact with each other

[smileysuh]

real talk

🌙 starring. Mark Lee x afab!Reader

🔮 preview.“You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, reader has a hard time cumming, oral (f/m receiving), Mark is a MUNCH, deep throating, fingering, masturbation, use of toys/vibrator, dirty talk, praise, Mark is a simp, sex realism, overthinking during sex, mentions of sexual favours in return for affection, a string of bad ex-lovers, breast worship, creampies, aftercare, finger sucking, drunkenness, etc… I pet names: (hers) sunshine. (his) puppy boy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 19.4k

🍭 aus. Restaurant au, line chef!Mark, slow burn, coworkers to lovers, fuck girl who looks like sunshine meets a serial monogamist who looks like a fuckboy, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I wanted to touch on some realism to kick off the year. Not everything is as easy during sex as it appears in fanfic/p*rn, so I wanted to make something that might be more true to the real experience of afabs who overthink and need extra help to cum- I hope maybe this fic can normalize girls who need some extra machine power to get off ;)

One:

Mark has only been working at his new restaurant for two weeks, but he’s already fallen in love with the place. Morning shifts have been good for him.  With the help of his favorite expo girl - who always takes the time to explain small details and things he’s been messing up on - he’s already gotten used to the menu. Every day feels better and better.

“This tuna is looking so good, Mark,” you grin, inspecting the plate. 

When he’d first been hired, the fish he’d cut had come out mangled, but after talking him through it, you’d both realized it had been a knife issue. Sharpening his blade had led to Mark perfecting his slices, and now, he eagerly awaits your praises when he puts his food up in the expo window. 

Mark’s eyes follow you as you dart off toward the bar, the plate of tuna balanced perfectly in your hand. The new chef can’t help the smile that works its way onto his lips, and he leans forward, hand flat on the cutting board station in front of him.

“This tuna is looking so good, Mark,” Hyuck’s annoying voice snaps him out of his trance, and Mark turns to look at the man next to him. “God, can you two make it any more obvious that you’re into each other?”

“She’s just doing her job,” Mark assures the other line chef, but he can feel his skin heating at the idea.

“Sure she is. But she doesn’t compliment my cooking as much as she does yours.” Hyuck crosses his arms over his chest, letting out a sigh as his gaze shifts to the view through the expo line. You’re at the bar now, chatting with the man who you’ve just served. However, you’re taking longer than normal, and you’re smiling a lot too.

“No fucking way,” Hyuck breathes, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes. “That guy is hitting on her.”

“Is he?” Mark also dips his head toward the expo window, eager for a look.

“Yeah, mans just slipped her his number,” Hyuck laughs. “That’s our little Sunshine though, isn’t it? This restaurant is her playground.”

“What do you mean?” Mark asks.

“Just that she’s quite popular,” Hyuck brushes it off as you approach the expo line again. “Did you get a number, sweet thing?”

“Why, you jealous?” You grin, holding up the slip of paper with digits on it. 

“You wish,” Hyuck scoffs, but Mark gets the feeling there’s something else going on between the two of you, something unspoken. He’s still getting used to the dynamic of the restaurant, and in work spaces like this, relationships aren’t uncommon. He wonders what history you have with Hyuck, wonders what chance he has with you- wonders if it’s even a good idea.

Two

“Luna never runs her own food,” Sumi notes, standing with you by the entrance to the restaurant while you watch the tall waitress lean against the expo window. “I know that our new chef is cute, but, damn.”

“She can do what she wants,” you laugh, wiping down menus. “Makes my job easier.”

“You know, it’s kind of felt like you and Mark have some sort of understanding,” Sumi grins, moving close enough that your hips touch by the host station. “He watches you a lot.”

“Does he?” Your gaze moves back to the expo line.

“Uh huh, almost as much as Hyuck does- which, by the way, you sure did a number on him.”

“Hyuck will get over it, he’s a fuck boy,” you wave your hand. “I’m great at attracting that kind of guy.”

“Do you get fuck boy vibes from Mark?” Sumi wonders, tapping her pen against the top of her Ipad thoughtfully.

“He’s definitely cute enough to be a womanizer, don’t you think?”

“Key word being cute,” Sumi points out. “I don’t know, he doesn't give me fuck boy vibes like the other line chefs do.”

“Well, he’s roommates with Jeno, isn’t he?” Your eyes move to the bar. Jeno’s a night bartender, but his close friend, Renjun is working today. “Jeno’s a fuck boy, he got Hyuck and Jaemin jobs here. They’re both fuck boys. It would make sense if Mark was that kind of guy too.”

“I’m still not convinced,” Sumi states, crossing an arm over her chest. “Speaking of men though- whatever happened to that guy who gave you his number the other day? Are you actually considering a date with him?”

“I already had a date with him,” you admit. 

“Yikes, from the way you haven’t mentioned it at all, I’d guess it didn’t go so well?”

“Meh,” you shrug your shoulders. “He won’t be getting a second date.”

“How many first dates have you been on this year?” Sumi asks. “Didn’t you say it was like… a lot?”

“Too many to count,” you giggle. 

“So what’s the deal with that? Like- what’s your type? I know you were seeing Hyuck for a little while, how come that didn’t work?”

“It just didn’t,” you say, looking down at the menus you’ve wiped clean. “I try not to think about my failures too much.”

“Really? But you could learn so much from them,” Sumi frowns. “I mean- look at me and Doyoung. I was never into the more serious types, always went for fuck boys and younger guys- but after some soul searching, I realized I needed someone older who had their shit together.”

“You also have a thing for guys in powerful positions, and Doyoung is literally one of our managers,” you point out.

“Well, I’m still a work in progress,” Sumi winks. “Anyways- think about it. If you look at your dating patterns, you might be surprised by what you find.”

Three

There’s nothing like the air outside after being in a hot kitchen for a few hours. The lunch rush is finally over, and after having a 20 top that ordered an insane amount of food with an even crazier amount of modifications and allergies, Mark is ready to take a massive puff from his vape pen.

He stands by the back exit to the restaurant, looking out at the cars on the street as he takes a long drag. As he inhales, the door behind Mark opens, and he turns to come face-to-face with you.

The shock of seeing you makes him choke a little, and he begins to cough out a large puff of smoke. Mark’s lungs burn, and his skin feels even hotter, enflamed by the embarrassment of you seeing him take a crappy hit when in reality, he’s a vaping veteran. 

“You good?” you ask, reaching out and gently rubbing his back as you step past him.

“Yeah, I, uh-” Mark’s entire body tingles at the physical contact. “Sorry, you just surprised me.”

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” you grin, stopping in front of him. He notices the way your eyes go to his vape pen, and he immediately holds it out to you.

“Want some?”

“I mean, if you’re offering.” You reach out and accept the sleek black vape. “What’s the flavor?”

“Uh… cotton candy?” God, Mark feels like a fool, especially when you raise a brow at him. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”

“Didn’t peg you as a sweet tooth type,” you grin, bringing the refillable device to your lips. Mark watches you take a drag, focusing on your mouth and the way you look sucking on something- he starts to imagine what you’d look like sucking on something else, something substantially bigger. 

As you exhale, you cough a little, and Mark wonders if you’re doing that to make him feel better about his screw-up a moment ago- or maybe you simply don’t vape often, he’s not too sure. 

“Thanks,” you say, still coughing as you hand the vape back to Mark. Your fingers brush gently as he accepts it from you, and as Mark brings the device to his mouth, he’s extremely aware of the fact that your lips had just been where his now are. 

He wonders if it means anything that you’d be so willing to swap spit like this, even on something as innocent as a vape pen. 

“How long are you here till?” you ask, breaking him from his daze. 

“Started at seven am, eight-hour shift, should be off around three when the night cross-over guys come in,” Mark explains. 

“Any fun plans for tonight?” you continue to press. “It is a Friday after all.”

“No plans, will probably just go home, make some food, and watch Netflix all night… what about you?”

You sigh. “No hot dates, unfortunately. Will probably do the same as you. Do you have any good show recommendations? I’ve been looking for something new.”

“I mean, it depends, what are you into?” Mark asks, eager to hear more about your tastes, your likes and dislikes- he knows so little about you, mostly things related to work. He’s curious about what you do in your downtime, and he’s grateful he has an opportunity like this to get to know you even a little bit better.

As you part your lips to respond, the back door swings open, and Hyuck steps out, already mid-puff of his neon orange vape. 

“Oh,” the line chef grins, exhaling through his nose and flashing a grin, “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” you respond quickly, and Mark notes the shift in your energy, “I was just leaving actually.”

“See you later,” Mark offers, watching you hurry off. 

“Classic her,” Hyuck sighs, coming to stand next to Mark.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s a runner, that one,” Hyuck takes another puff from his vape.

“So you two definitely used to date,” Mark states. The interaction he’s just witnessed verifies his suspicion, and since they’re technically outside of work/the kitchen, Mark feels able to actually discuss this now.

“I don’t know if I’d call it dating,” Hyuck cocks his head to the side, eyes still fixed on you where you’re crossing the street a couple hundred feet away. “Look, do you want real talk? You wanna know about your favorite expo girl?”

“Yeah, I wanna know.” Mark lifts his vape to his lips, readying himself for whatever is about to come out of Hyuck’s mouth.

“I know she looks like sugar and sunshine, but I hate to burst your bubble Mark- she’s a bit of a fuck girl, that one.” 

“It takes one to know one,” Mark points out.

“Touche, but to be fair, I never claimed to be anything other than a guy who likes pussy, and little miss sunshine knew that when we started hooking up a few months ago.” Hyuck lets out another large puff of smoke into the air. “Look, I said I’d give you real talk so here it is. She’s got a lot of expectations. Girl reads those horny romance books-”

“Erotica.”

“Yeah, that’s it, erotica.” Hyuck nods to himself. “Well, she reads erotica, and her ideas about fucking are kind of hard to make real. She’s too in her head all of the time. Apparently - and don’t repeat this anywhere - but apparently no guy she’s fucked has ever made her actually cum. She has this thing where someone told her that if a guy doesn’t make you cum, he doesn’t add to your body count, so allegedly her body count is zero and she’s a virgin, but we both know it’s a lot higher than that.” 

“The whole body count thing doesn’t phase me,” Mark says quietly, although the wheels in his head are spinning.

“Sure it doesn’t,” Hyuck scoffs. “Just listen, if you’re into her, it’s not going to work out. She’s not for beginners like you.”

“Beginners like me?” Mark side eyes the line chef.

“You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”

Four

“Mark?” you ask, looking at the takeout bowl in front of you.

“Yeah?” he leans forward, lips parting as he waits for your judgment.

“Didn’t they order the spicy yogurt on the side?” You push the rice bowl forward, pointing at the lines of orange tinted cream that cover the veggies. 

“Shit,” Mark cusses, grabbing the chit-paper receipt and scanning it. “There were like, three other modifications, I didn’t even see the yogurt on the side.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “It’s takeout, and there’s pretty much no one in the restaurant, so you have time to make another… besides, I’ll just take this one as my lunch.”

One of the perks of the job is getting to take home the food that’s not correct. You’d been dreading going to the grocery store, your fridge empty of easy meals, but now you don’t have to make the trek, and you’re more than happy about it.

“You know, Mark, you’re my favorite new chef.” He’s also the only new chef, and you’ve been reaping the rewards of minor fuck ups the past two weeks. 

Mark, however, doesn’t seem to note your teasing, and he offers you a genuine smile. “You’re my favorite expo girl.”

“Yeah?” you grin. “And why’s that?”

“You’re really nice about things I mess up,” Mark’s eyes shift to the dragon bowl you’re packing up. “Like, you point things out, and you turn them good. As you said, it’s an easy fix, I have the time, and now you get to eat that.” 

“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, that’s for sure,” you laugh. 

“You’re also pretty happy most days, always makes me happy to come in and see our Little Miss Sunshine.” 

“Jeeze, not you calling me that pet-name too,” you roll your eyes. Hyuck had taken to calling you that a few months ago, and somehow the title had stuck. Mark was the only chef using your real name, but it looks like those days might already be behind you.

“It fits,” Mark assures you. “I think it’s cute.”

“Does it fit because I’m cute?” 

You notice the way Mark immediately swallows thickly, his skin turning a pretty shade of pink. “Uh- I mean, yeah,” his voice cracks, and he fiddles with his sleeves, pushing them up to his elbows, “you’re cute-”

“Oh my God-” you stare at his forearms, which are usually covered by his chef coat. “Have you always had all those tattoos?!”

“Did you really never notice these?” Mark looks down at his arms, lifting them so you can see the details.

“I have never noticed them,” you confirm, leaning forward. “Damn, how many tattoos do you have?!”

“A lot?” Mark’s tattoos are patchwork style, all black. They litter his forearms, and you wonder how high up the markings go- you wonder if his chest is covered, or his back- what about his legs?

“I need a tattoo tour,” you insist.

“I mean… I can’t show you all of them-” Mark says sheepishly. 

“Start with that one,” you point at a tattoo of three letters near his inner elbow, “What’s SSG mean?”

“So uh- the first restaurant I worked in, a few of us dishwashers worked our way into the kitchen with no formal training or anything- just started at the bottom, and went up from there. One of us came up with the idea of being the Soapy Suds Gang, like- dishwashers to chefs. Was at that restaurant from the age of fifteen to twenty, and when it closed down cuz the owners just didn’t wanna be in the business anymore, me and all the others got the matching SSG tattoo.”

Mark is adorable. Like, shockingly so. It’s such a stupid yet endearing story- and for some reason, it feels so on-brand for Mark. 

He begins to tell you about a few other tattoos. There’s a shotgun to commemorate his years playing Call of Duty online with friends. A cartoon puppy because apparently his mom never let him get a dog - something about him not being able to handle it if the dog ever died - so when he turned eighteen, he got a dog that could never bite the bullet, etched into his skin with black ink. 

All the marks have meaning, stories that make up the groundwork of Mark’s life. 

“What about that one?” you ask, noting a King of Hearts tattoo that he’d skipped over.

“Oh, uh…” Mark rubs the back of his neck shyly. “My ex-girlfriend wanted a Queen of Hearts tattoo, so I got this one, and… I mean, I don’t regret it, I was with the girl for three years- but, it’s not a tattoo I talk about too often.”

“Three years?” you ask in shock. “You were with your last girlfriend for three years?”

“Why do you sound so shocked?”

“It’s just- I mean,” you lick your lips, leaning in so Mark’s the only one who can hear you, “I hate to say it, Mark, but you look like a total fuck boy.”

“I’m really not,” Mark admits. 

“Even before your last ex?”

“Even before,” the line chef confirms. “I’ve got two ex-girlfriends. The last one ended about a year ago, dated her from age twenty-two to twenty-five. Had a girlfriend from when I was sixteen to twenty-one-”

“So a three-year relationship and a five-year relationship?” 

This gossip keeps getting juicier and juicier. 

“Yeah. The first one moved to another country to teach English, and I’ve never been that into long distance. We tried to make it work, but we agreed the best thing was to let each other go. Then the last girl decided she wanted more from life than some line chef so…” Mark trails off and you feel your heart hurt for him. “Anyways, what about you? How many relationships have you had?”

“A lot more than you,” you answer quickly, although, that’s only if you count one-night stands, flings, and situationships, but you won’t go into those details with Mark right now. “I mean… are you looking for anything right now?”

“What do you mean?” Mark cocks his head to the side.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but… a few of the waitresses are into you,” you whisper.

“Really?” he looks past you at the restaurant, and you see him trail Luna with his eyes. “That’s nice and everything, but waitresses really aren’t my type.”

“Then what’s your type?”

“Expo girls.” 

His words hit you in your chest, and you can feel your pulse quicken immediately.

“I mean-” Mark’s skin has returned to that pretty pink colour. “My first girlfriend- the five-year one, she was the expo girl when I met her- we got close cuz we spent so much time together. I didn’t mean you- I wasn’t trying to hit on you or anything- not that I don’t think you’re cute, cuz you’re definitely cute- fuck.”

You watch him, smiling and completely amused. It appears you’d read the new line chef all wrong. He’s not a fuck boy, he’s a lover boy, and you kind of adore that about him.

“I should uh- I need to remake this dragon bowl-” Mark turns away from you, and you watch him scurry off to the fridge to grab vegetables. 

You’re kind of hoping to tease him so more when he returns, but before he does, Doyoung appears from the back, and he waves you over. “It’s been dead for half an hour,” your manager notes, “you’re cut. Head home, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Five

Mark hasn’t been able to stop thinking about your conversation. All night, he’d had you on his mind- and he’d kind of been hoping to get to talk to you today, but you have the day shift and this is one of his first nights scheduled.

Even so, Mark arrives to work thirty minutes early just on the off chance he’ll catch you, and as he’s waiting outside the backdoor, hitting his vape, his hopes come true.

You step out of the back of the restaurant, looking down at your phone. The jacket you’re wearing today is vibrant in contrast to your all-black uniform, and the comfy sneakers you always put on after your shift in flats are beginning to look a little worn out now that winter is almost over. 

“Hi,” Mark says, drawing your attention.

“Oh,” you put your phone into your pocket, offering him a smile. “Hey- you just starting?”

“In ten minutes or so,” the line chef nods. “I uh- I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

“Apologize for what?” You cock your head to the side. 

“All of it?” Mark suggests.

You laugh, and the sound does things to Mark that he’ll never be able to express. “Seriously, we’re all good,” you assure him. “I think you’re pretty cute too, so, don’t worry about any of it.”

Mark’s mouth feels dry, and it’s not just from the vaping. He fiddles with the device in his hand, working up the courage to say what’s on his mind. “I was wondering- I mean, it sounds like you’re still on the market and all- so I was thinking, maybe, if you’d like- maybe we can go out sometime, or something- but no pressure.”

Your smile widens, and you step closer to him. “What would going out with you look like?”

“Honestly…” Mark swallows thickly, “it would look more like staying in. Since we both work in a restaurant- or maybe it’s just a ‘me thing’, but I’m not super into drinks as a first date, or even food- I’m a bit of a homebody. I’d love for you to just come over, watch some netflix, talk- that sort of shit.”

You look him up and down, and Mark’s body tenses as he waits for your response.

“That actually sounds pretty nice,” you admit. “Here, give me your hand.”

Mark holds out his palm, watching you pull out a Sharpie from your pocket. You write your phone number across his skin. “Careful,” you say, as you draw the last digit, “Don’t wash this off or anything.”

“I won’t,” he assures you, already planning on taking a picture of it with his phone just in case. 

“I should get going, but yeah- text me when your shift is over and we can figure something out.” 

“You got it,” Mark grins, unable to hold in his excitement any longer. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” 

With one final exchange of eye contact that makes Mark’s heart lurch in his chest, you walk off, the line chef’s eyes following you all the way out of sight. 

As he turns to head inside, Mark bumps into Hyuck. “Don’t go in just yet,” Hyuck insists, “stay out here and vape with me for a minute.”

It’s hard for Mark to focus on anything Hyuck is saying about the afternoon rush, but he manages to nod and make sounds of affirmation while his coworker rants about some party of fifteen that walked in and only ordered appetizers. 

“Mark, you’re not paying attention,” Hyuck sighs.

“Sorry, I’m just kind of-” Mark swallows the lump in his throat, “yeah, I’m distracted.”

“Got a hot date?”

“What?” Mark looks up.

“Someone wrote their digits on your hand,” Hyuck grabs at Mark’s wrist, “let’s see-”

Mark tries his best to pull away, but Hyuck’s already assessing the phone number. After a moment, the younger man lets go, his mouth forming a firm line. “I warned you about her.”

Mark’s surprised that Hyuck - who has the memory of a goldfish most days - clearly recognizes your phone number. 

“I told you she’s not for beginners.” 

“Yeah, well, I don’t have to listen to you,” Mark insists. “And not everything is about fucking. She’s gonna come over, we’re gonna watch movies- nothing has to happen. I just want to know her better.”

“Lover boy,” Hyuck scoffs, “she’s going to eat you up, and spit you back out.”

“And if she does, then that’s my choice,” Mark says firmly. “I know she fucked you over or whatever, but that doesn’t mean anything to me, Hyuck. I’m sorry, but I really don’t care about what happened between the two of you.”

“Ouch, dude.”

“If she’s as bad as you say, then you can say you told me so when this is all over. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Six

“So this is Jeno’s famous fuck pad,” you tease, stepping into Mark’s apartment and looking around. 

“Uh, he doesn’t actually bring girls here that often,” Mark says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “He likes to go to their place, makes it easier to run than kicking a girl out the next morning, you know?”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you nod… you usually fuck guys in their homes for the same reason. “It’s a nice place.”

“Thanks, my ex had a lot to do with the decor and shit.” Now that Mark mentions it, the vibe definitely doesn’t scream ‘boy’, and it especially doesn't scream ‘home of a line chef and bartender.’ 

The cream-colored couch in the living room has pretty sage pillows, there’s a tasteful rug under a circular coffee table. On the table are three candles varying in size, as well as a design book that you’d bet has never been opened or looked at in detail by the men who live here.

It’s a comfortable home, but you wonder what it feels like for Mark to live in a space that constantly reminds him of an ex who ditched him for not having his own shit together.

“I didn’t realize Jeno was a tidy guy,” you note, thinking back to the line of dirty cups he always allows to build up in the bar dish area. 

“He’s not, but I am.” Mark enters the living room, and he takes a seat on the couch, kicking his legs up onto a small puff stool next to the coffee table. “I guess when you work on the line, you’re used to doing little clean-up jobs to keep everything smooth. I don’t mind moving two or three beer cans to the sink every day if it means there aren’t any piles building.” 

So he’s a sexy line chef, with tattoos, who likes long-term relationships, and also cleans up his home? Mark really is a catch amongst flounders.

“Are you going to come sit?” Mark asks, noting the way you stand at the edge of the room. “Or, shit, should I offer you a drink first? We’ve got beer, or I could make you a cocktail or something-”

“I’m good, just… getting used to this.” 

It feels kind of odd to be with Mark in a casual setting. You’ve only ever seen him in a professional manner, with an expo station between you both- now, Mark is right in front of you, and as you sit on the couch next to him, you’re hyper-aware of the way your thighs almost touch.

“So… Netflix?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Mark grabs the remote, the sleeve of his hoodie pushed up so you can see his forearms. 

“You still haven’t given me a full tattoo tour,” you tease, reaching out to gently trace the puppy etched against his skin.

“Maybe that’s a date number two sort of thing,” Mark suggests, tugging the fabric down to cover his skin.

Your grin widens. “Do I make you nervous, puppy boy?” 

“Definitely,” he lets out a shy laugh, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob with the effort of swallowing. “So uh… what do you wanna watch?”

You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the couch. “Surprise me.”

“Well, there’s this anime I’ve been wanting to get into-” Mark finds the show in his ‘to watch’ list.

“Let's do it.”

“Really? You’re down?”

“Uh huh, I’m not that picky,” you nod, offering him a smile.

“It can be…” he starts the first episode, “like- if you wanna keep doing this sort of thing, it could be our show.”

“That actually sounds nice,” you admit. You suppose it shouldn’t be a shock that Mark is thinking long term- you do work together after all, but when you’d been seeing Hyuck, every day was a question of longevity. Would he call? Would he not call?

Hyuck never talked in definitives. He never made promises. The only true thing you could count on was seeing him at work three of five days of the week when your schedules aligned, and he never locked himself in for any more than that. 

“Should I-” Mark licks his lips, “I mean, finding a show was way easier than I thought it would be. Do you want a drink? I’ve got chips?”

“I’m okay, but if you want something, you should grab it.”

“I’m good if you’re good,” Mark mutters, leaning back against the couch. Your shoulders are touching, and you’re already finding it difficult to focus on the tv screen as the anime begins to play.

You’re aware of each breath, each slight shift of Mark’s body. “Are you comfortable?” he asks after a short while.

“I mean, we could probably find a more comfortable position than this one,” you note. 

“Like… do you wanna cuddle?”

“If you want to, I’d be up for that.”

“Okay, one sec,” Mark turns, grabbing at the back cushion of the couch. He tosses it to the side. “I can big spoon you.”

In under a minute, Mark is settling behind you, pillows are adjusted, and a gentle hand finds your hip. You wiggle slightly, trying to get snug against the line chef’s chest. 

“Is this good?” he asks, his breath ghosting by your ear.

“It’s nice, but let me just…” you grab his hand, threading your fingers and bringing it up to your chest, so you’re truly wrapped in his embrace. You can feel his heart against your spine, and you can hear the way his breath catches. “That’s better,” you let out a sigh of relief. 

The anime is fun, but you’re much too focused on Mark. Something tells you he’s quite focused on you as well, and finally, your patience snaps. You roll onto your back, looking up at him.

“You good?” he prompts.

“Uh huh. Just thinking.”

“About?”

You shrug. “I guess maybe I’m just wondering what work is going to be like tomorrow.”

“Hopefully busy.”

You laugh at how innocent Mark can be. “I mean in terms of cuddling with you tonight, then working together in the morning.”

“I mean… how was it with Hyuck when you two were seeing each other?” 

Your heart clenches. “Oh… he uh… he told you about that, huh?”

“Mentioned it once or twice.”

“All good things, I hope?”

“For the most part,” Mark nods. “But just so you know- I don’t take everything Hyuck says seriously. You two had something going on, but every relationship is different. I’m sure you have your own side to the story. I know you’re a good person - that’s what my heart tells me at least - so that’s what I’m going off of.”

You stare up at the line chef. The man you’d pegged as a fuck boy, who is turning out to be the farthest thing from a womanizer that you’ve ever met.

You can’t help but reach up and cup his face. There aren’t words that come to mind, but you hope your expression shows your gratitude for his kindness.

Mark’s gaze dips to your mouth, and you watch the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on his slightly. “So no pressure or anything,” he says, voice cracking, “but uh… can I kiss you?”

“You can kiss me,” you confirm, staying still and waiting for the precious man to make his move. Part of you is scared to take control- you’re worried about scaring Mark off, like you’d scare off a wild bird with one wrong muscle twitch. 

You’re still cupping his face, and Mark mirrors the act, gently cupping your cheek. He looks down at you, searching your eyes for a moment. You wonder if he’s looking for any hesitation, any sign that you regret your affirmative answer. Then he looks at your lips, and you can see some of the tension leave his body.

In fact, you see the exact moment Mark decides to give in to his desires. His lips part ever so slightly, his brown eyes shyly meeting your own as he begins to move in closer-

As his mouth presses to your own, you realize this might be the softest kiss a man has ever bestowed upon you. He’s not trying to shove his tongue down your throat- not biting at your lip and asking for entrance. It’s a simple brush of lips on lips, and it leaves you wanting more.

Your hand finds the back of his neck, and you drag him closer, letting out a small mewl. You capture his bottom lip between your own, suckling on it gently-

Mark pulls away, and your eyes open. You’re disappointed, but when you notice Mark breathing heavily, your annoyance dissipates.

“Was that okay?” you ask, worrying that maybe you’d been going too fast for the soft man.

“Yeah- better than okay,” he assures you. 

“Can we… can you kiss me again?”

“Uh huh,” he nods, leaning back down to press his lips against your own. His hand finds your hip, and you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss is just as gentle as the first, but the passion begins to burn brighter with each passing second.

No one has ever kissed you like this.

You can’t explain it- but in a matter of moments, your attraction to Mark has grown tenfold. 

When he breaks away from you for a second time, you’re both breathing heavily. You open your eyes to stare up at the pretty line chef, watching him swallow thickly.

 “Should we uh… should we keep paying attention to the show?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “Yeah, we should.” You roll onto your side again, and Mark settles against your back. He tucks you closer, his fingers threading through yours. 

It’s impossible to focus now, and you begin to wiggle slightly, pressing your ass back against the front of his jeans.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Mark asks, letting go of your hand to grab your hip, steadying you.

“I’m fine- I’m just…” - unbelievably horny - “you’re a good kisser.”

He lets out a small laugh. “Thanks. I liked kissing you too.”

“So…” you look over your shoulder at him, “wanna kiss me again?”

Mark grins, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

As with the first two times, Mark pulls away much too fast for your liking.

Your head is spinning. You’ve never experienced a situation like this. Mark is being respectful- he’s keeping his hands in PG locations, and the kisses have involved zero tongue- does he not like you as much as you like him?

How much do you like this line chef?

Do you like him because he’s not completely fawning over you like you’re used to?

What is going on?!

“I just want you to know,” Mark says, “it sounds like you’re used to fuck boys and shit, and I uh- well, I’m not like them. There’s no pressure to get naked or anything today-” his voice hitches, “in fact, Jeno will be home soonish so it’s better if we don’t-”

“You don’t want to fuck me?”

Mark tenses behind you. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“If we move to your room, Jeno won’t walk in on us.”

“It’s not about that,” Mark assures you. “Look, I want to take my time with you. This is our first date. I want things to feel right. I want to do this right. Can you understand that?”

You think maybe you’re too horny to want to understand it. 

You want to tear Mark’s clothes off. You want to push him down and ride him until he’s gasping your name and filling you with his cum. You want to feel him still dripping out of you when you go into work tomorrow morning- 

No one has ever made you wait. You’re much too impatient for playing around- and your past lovers have been the same way. 

Even so, you respect the boundary Mark has just expressed. “No fucking tonight,” you agree, “I get that. It’s for the better.”

However, it’s not for the better of your throbbing pussy. 

Seven

God, Mark can’t take his eyes off of you. It’s been two hours since you arrived on shift, and Mark has been distracted for all of it.

You look adorable today. Your black outfit hugs your body just right, and Mark’s mind is consistently wandering to last night, when his hands had traced your hips before lacing your fingers-

When you speak, he finds his focus shifting to your lips- those pretty lips he’d kissed. The lips that had left him wanting more- the lips he’d thought about for hours after you’d gone home. He’d dreamt of kissing you, but it had fallen quite short to the real thing.

You’d sounded hurt when Mark had said you shouldn’t fuck last night, and part of Mark regrets drawing the line in the sand. But on the other hand, Mark had meant it when he said it wasn’t the right time. 

He doesn’t want to bed you after watching a few episodes of anime. You deserve so much more than that. 

Besides, if he had fucked you last night, Mark might have needed to take a sick day just to calm down. Even now, knowing he’s tasted your lips has his skin heating every time he looks at you. 

God, you’ve got him practically bewitched.

As the lunch rush comes to an end, Mark finds time to go outside and vape. He watches the cars pass while he puffs on his device, closing his eyes and imagining your lips.

As his little break is coming to an end, the door hinges squeak behind him, and Mark turns to find you standing there. 

“Oh, hi,” you grin. 

“Hey.” He looks you up and down. “You leaving?”

“Doyoung cut me again, it’s been slow this week,” you nod. 

Mark swallows thickly. He can’t help the way his gaze dips to your lips again.

You step forward, smiling. “You wanna kiss me again, don’t cha, Mark?”

He doesn’t even bother responding. He slips his vape into his pocket, grabbing your hips to tug you closer. As he brings his mouth down to yours, he pauses for a second, meeting your gaze. If you want to pull away, he gives you ample time, but instead, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, closing the distance between your lips.

You take more control today than last night. You lick at his lower lip, not doing too much tongue, but providing just enough that it has Mark’s skin tingling with need. His fingers dig against your hips, pulling you tighter. 

The kiss deepens, and Mark’s entire heart lurches in his chest when you let out a pleased mewling sound.

Fuck, he loves your sounds already- you sound so fucking pretty-

“Jesus.” Head Chef John’s voice makes Mark practically jump, and he tears his lips away from your own, eyes immediately finding his boss, who’s standing by the exit door. “Damn, newbie, you work fast, don’t you?”

Mark’s skin feels like it’s on fire, and he’s quick to let go of your hips, stepping away and running an awkward hand through his hair, “Chef-”

“Don’t tease him, Johnny,” you sigh. “You nearly gave Mark a heart attack sneaking up on us like that.”

“I’m shocked neither of you heard the door.”

“We were busy!” you insist, raising your voice in jest at the head chef.

Mark is shocked at the way you talk so easily with his boss. But he supposes you’ve been at the restaurant for over a year- maybe you’re closer with the tall head chef than Mark realized.

“Look, I’ll say what I said when Hyuck was trying to get with you, sunshine,” Johnny grins, reaching into his pocket to pull out a jacked-up vape pen. “As long as you use protection we’re good, I can’t have my line chefs becoming fathers and taking time off.”

“And I’ll say what I said last time you told me to wrap it: never gonna happen.” 

“IUD’s aren’t a hundred percent viable,” Johnny points out, making Mark nearly choke on air.

“Mine has been so far, so stick it old man.” You turn to Mark, “Don’t mind him, he’s protective.”

“I was protective with Hyuck, because he’s a douchebag, but Mark seems okay,” Johnny laughs. 

“Thanks?” Mark can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Listen, I’ll text you okay?” You grab the front of Mark’s apron, pulling him in so you can press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Have a good rest of your shift.”

Mark watches you dart off. He’s tongue-tied, skin still flaring, heart racing in his chest.

“She’s a good one,” Johnny muses. “Best expo girl we have. Don’t fuck it up, Mark, I’ll fire you before we get rid of her.”

“Trust me,” Mark coughs, “I wasn’t planning on fucking things up any time soon.”

Eight

In the year you’ve had your solo apartment, you’ve not had any guys over. Your MO is to go to the man’s place so you can dip out whenever you get anxious or tired. Inviting a man over to your safe space woman sanctuary is new. The nervousness is manifesting physically; you’re fussing over the overswept floor and the frill on your couch blanket when Mark texts you that he’s arrived. 

With one final breath, you head down to the lobby to let Mark in.

He’s in blue jeans and a black hoodie that sets off the blonde tone of his hair. You’ve been meaning to ask him about who does his bleach out, but you know men can be touchy about their physical appearance and certain body modifications, so you’ve been holding yourself back.

He looks good. That’s all that really matters. 

“Hey,” Mark grins as you open the door, pulling you into a hug. 

“Hey, yourself,” you smile back, pulling away from the embrace to lead Mark to the elevator. You can hear the line chef following you, and you suddenly feel self-conscious about your building. 

“It’s a nice place,” Mark notes, as if he can read your mind. “New build?”

“I think it’s been here like three or four years? I moved in last winter.”

“Right,” he nods, coming to a stop next to you as you hit the button to call the elevator. 

You can feel him staring at you, and it’s making you even more nervous. “What?” you ask, letting out a short laugh.

“Nothing, you just uh… you look cute.” 

“I’m literally in PJ’s.” Your gaze dips to your simple fuzzy purple shorts, and the tank top you’re wearing.

“But they’re nice. I’ve only ever seen you in work outfits, and when you came over last time you were in jeans. You look cute dressed down like this.”

You’d been worried about being so casual with Mark- dressing for comfort instead of the need to impress, but it seems you’ve succeeded in both comfortability and making a good impression. 

“Thank you,” you smile, your insides practically glowing from the compliment. No other man has seen you this way and called you cute- it’s one of the reasons you usually dip out from a man after sex. There’s no comfort or getting comfortable- your other relationships have always been rigid, a push pull and need to be perfect at all times in order to be deserving of attention.

You make it up to your floor, and another wave of anxiety washes over you as you let Mark into your small apartment. “It’s not much,” you sigh, “but it’s home.”

Mark slips off his sneakers by your door, looking around. “No, I like it,” he assures you. “No roommates kicking around- I bet living alone is pretty relaxing.”

“It can be, but it’s also lonely at times,” you admit.

“Well, if you get lonely here, you can always call me and I can come entertain you.”

Mark’s words give an air of longevity. He sounds certain about this, as if it’s a given that he’s part of your life now, as if he’s not going anywhere. 

You’re not sure what to make of Mark. You’ve never really had steady consistency from a man- but he seems so sincere, it makes you want to be hopeful, and hope can be a dangerous thing for a girl like you.

“So uh… can I get you something to drink?” you ask. “We’re just watching anime right?”

“I’m good. If I get thirsty, I’ll let you know,” Mark assures you, taking a seat on the couch in your living room. “Should we uh… should I move some of these pillows so we can cuddle again?”

You grin, pouring yourself a cup of water. “If you want to cuddle, we can cuddle.”

“I want to cuddle,” Mark states, immediately grabbing at the cushions and rearranging your space to allow for you both to lie down. 

He’s adorable. Laying down in front of him already feels kind of natural. The way he grabs your hip and tugs you close to his chest has your heart singing, and his breath against the back of your neck is as familiar as anything.

Not much needs to be said as you start your anime. You’re simply enjoying the comfortability of companionship- companionship lacking any pressures or timeframes. You’re two souls sharing your moments together.

It’s a different feeling for your mind to go blank while you’re with Mark. You’re shocked by how safe you feel in his embrace. 

You talk here and there, the two of you discussing moments in the anime, but conversation doesn’t get much deeper than that. You actually kind of enjoy not having to use your brain, and you’re definitely enjoying the warmth of the man behind you.

“I’m uh, gonna take my hoodie off,” Mark tells you, shifting slightly. 

“Okay.” You give him space, turning to look over your shoulder as he lifts the fabric off his body, revealing the white tshirt below. “Wait, can you give me a deeper tattoo tour now?”

“Uh…”

“You said you’d give me a proper tour on the second date,” you tease, hooking your finger in the neck of his shirt and gently pulling, giving yourself a tiny peak of marked skin along his collarbones.

“I guess I did say that, didn’t I?” Mark laughs sheepishly. “Okay,” he takes a deep breath, sitting up again and grabbing the hem of his shirt.

As Mark reveals his chest to you, you’re a little taken aback by what you see.

Generally, you’re pretty good at guessing a man’s build under his clothing, but Mark is much more toned than you thought he would be. It’s clear he works out, and the muscles you see are amplified by tasteful placement of tattoos littering his torso.

“Where do I even start?” Mark asks, looking down at himself.

“Wherever you want to.” You turn to face him, anime forgotten in the background.

He brushes his own fingers across one of the ferns decorating his collarbones. “These are my mom’s favourite plant.”

“Her favourite plant?” you grin.

“Yeah, I know, most moms have a favourite flower, but my mom kind of really likes ferns.”

“Sounds like you’re close with her,” you note.

“I’m a complete mama’s boy,” Mark admits with a laugh, which is when your gaze lands on a heart with the word ‘Mom’ tattooed on his ribs.

“I see that.” You reach out and gently brush the mark.

The line chef shivers under your touch, the muscles in his abdomen jumping deliciously. You wonder how ticklish he is. 

“Then this one,” Mark touches the moth blooming out from his sternum, “was just really cool and the artist needed someone to practice on, so I said, let’s do it, fuck me up.”

You grin at his choice of words. Mark can be kind of reserved at work, it’s interesting to hear his dirty mouth now that you’re alone. 

You kind of love listening to him as he continues with the tour, tracing the lined patch work. Each mark is another story or detail about the line chef you’re starting to fall for, and you commit his words to memory. 

He’s done the tour of his tattoos much too fast for your liking. You trace the last of the marks, a dagger on his bicep. 

Laying on your back with Mark on his side next to you, things feel very intimate, especially now that his focus has shifted away from his tattoos and is solidly fixed on you.

His hand finds your abdomen, and he gently lines the curve of your hip with his fingers.

Neither of you say anything, caught in the peaceful quiet and moments of mutual discovery. 

His fingers brush by your rib cage, and you’re struck by the need for more. Gently placing your hand over his, you prompt him up higher, until his palm is placed over your breast. You sneak a glance at Mark, noticing the way he swallows thickly.

“Are you a boobs man, Mark?”

“I mean… who isn’t?”

You grin at his answer. “Should I take my shirt off? It’s only fair, right? Yours is off.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he assures you.

“I want to take my shirt off.”

“Then take your shirt off,” he says quietly.

You sit up, quickly discarding the fabric before laying back down again. Now you’re just in a bra and PJ shorts. Mark sucks in a breath, his hand finding your bare hip. Once again, you have to guide his touch up to your breast. This time, when he squeezes you, his thumb rubs over the swell of plump flesh.

You can feel your nipple hardening with interest, pressing against the cup of your bra. “We should take this off next,” you suggest, grabbing at your strap.

“Yeah?” Mark’s eyes widen as he looks at you, his lips parting as he breathes heavier.

“I mean, unless you want me to keep it on?”

“Like I said,” the line chef brushes his thumb over your skin again, “do whatever makes you most comfortable.” 

You sit up again, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp. For a moment, you pause. This is a line you won't be able to uncross. You’re about to show your coworker your boobs. Your sweet, honest, adorable, line chef coworker, who gazes at you with stars in his eyes- your fuck boy look alike secret softie-

You undo your bra, throwing it off the couch before laying flat again. This time, you don’t have to prompt Mark’s hand, he gently traces his fingers up your ribs until he’s cupping your breast. He watches you tentatively, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Mark says, firmly this time.

“Come here,” you reach up to cup the back of his neck, drawing his lips to yours. He kisses you like he’s afraid you might break, but when you whimper, he responds with a groan, deepening the passion as his tongue glides against your own.

His hand kneads your breast, making you moan again, pushing up toward his palm. You can feel the desire growing between your legs as he kisses you, and you reach out to trace his chest. Your touch begins to lower, fingers grazing over his abdomen-

Mark breaks the kiss, nuzzling against your jaw to prompt your face to the side so he can access your throat. He peppers your skin in soft kisses, slowly descending until he reaches your collar bones-

You realize what he’s about to do and tangle your fingers through his soft blonde hair, pushing your chest up in silent affirmation. “Mark-” you whimper, rewarded when his wet lips wrap around your nipple.

Fuck, he feels so good-

Has anyone ever felt this good?

Maybe it’s the waiting- the going slow, or maybe it’s just the fact that Mark makes you feel safe, but regardless, each touch, each brush of his lips and tongue, has you mewling. You’re pretty sure you’ve soaked through your panties at this point, your pussy practically throbbing with each flick of his wet muscle against your pebbled nipple.

“Mark?” you whisper, tightening your grip in his hair. “Are you…” you swallow thickly. “Are you going to fuck me?”

The line chef pulls away from your breast, looking up at you with dark chocolate eyes. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do-”

“What if I want this?”

“I usually don’t sleep with girls on the second date-”

“Make an exception?” you plead. 

You haven’t been fucked in a few weeks, and you’re feeling desperate. You want to connect with Mark on that physical level, and sex is always the way you do that with men. You want him to feel good, to give him a reason to stick around like he says he will.

“But wait-” you feel your skin heat, “I have something I should tell you first.”

Mark cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to continue.

“I uh… I’m going to be super real with you right now.” You take a deep breath. “Look, I read a lot of smut? That’s like- I read a lot of erotica, written porn, I guess- and, in smut, and porn especially, girls always just cum so easily- and I wish I was that type of person, but I’m not. No guy has ever… you know, gotten me there. What I’m trying to say is, I can have fun even without cumming. So if I can’t get there with you, it’s not you, it’s literally me-”

“Hey,” Mark reaches up to cup your cheek, cutting off your rambling. “Thanks for telling me, but there’s no pressure. Whatever happens, happens. For some girls, you have to get more comfortable. My first girlfriend was like that too, and there’s never any judgement from me. I’m willing to wait for you to feel safe enough that your body relaxes.”

“You are?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you. “I mean, I can’t promise that I’ll be as good as the guys in your books or in porn. Dirty talk is something I have to get used to using too, but, if we give it time, I’m sure we’ll figure each other out.”

You search his eyes, processing what he’s just said. Then you give him a small nod. “That sounds good to me.”

“Good.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. “But, if we’re going to do this, I’d like for us to go to your bedroom, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course.” You sit up, getting off the couch quickly while Mark follows. As you get to the door of your bedroom, you look over your shoulder, snaking your fingers into your shorts and pulling them down.

“Fuck-” Mark groans, eyes taking in your body.

You can see a half chub pressing against the denim of his blue jeans, and your pussy throbs again. “Come on, puppy boy,” you tease. 

He’s quick to catch you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his chest to your back. His lips find your neck and you giggle, moving toward your bed while dragging the line chef with you.

“You’re so pretty,” Mark groans, tracing your curves with one hand while the other reaches to grab your breast.

Turning in his arms, you press your lips to his, enjoying the way each kiss gets deeper. He’s relaxing against you, his tongue exploring you more and more. 

When you make it to the bed, he gently prompts you to sit down. You look up at Mark, watching him take in your form. “How did I get this lucky?” he asks.

“You asked me out,” you remind him. “So you did this all yourself, Mark.”

“Did I?” he grins, sinking to the floor.

You’re surprised by the new position, surprised by the way he gently parts your knees, his gaze finding your hot core. 

“Can I take these off?” he questions, gently tugging at your panties.

“Yeah-” you whisper.

Most guys don’t eat you out as an appetizer. In fact, you have to ask most men to go down on you- but here’s Mark, doing it all of his own accord. And he looks so needy- in the best possible way.

Mark slips your panties down your legs, and then his lips find your calf. He begins kissing up your skin, spreading your thighs to accommodate him. 

“You don’t have to-” Your words are lost when he presses a kiss to your clit.

“Don’t have to what?” Mark asks, looking up at you.

“Don’t have to eat me out-”

“I want to eat you out,” he confirms. “I’ll eat you out for as long as you want me to- but, when you need more, just say something, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh,” Mark hums, immediately pressing his mouth against your core again. He licks a wet stripe of your pussy, and it makes your legs twitch on his shoulders.

You relax against the mattress, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of Mark pleasuring you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, keeping him where you need him. He focuses on your clit, circling it and toying with it.

It feels amazing- it does, but there’s some sort of mental block in your brain. You wish you could just cum from this, but the more you think about that, the more you distract yourself from Mark. God, you almost feel bad making him eat you out like this- he’s not getting anything-

The overthinking is something you’re used to, and try as you might to talk yourself down from the ledge of sexual issues, you can’t relax. You can’t focus on Mark, and it frustrates you to no end.

Finally, after what feels like hours of him eating you out - although it must only be a few minutes - you gently tug his hair. “Want your cock now,” you tell him.

“Yeah?” Mark wipes his hand across his mouth, looking up at you with pupils blown from lust.

“Please,” you nod. 

“Should I uh- should I grab a condom?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “We’re both clean right?”

“Yeah-”

“I have an IUD, remember? I want you to cum inside of me.”

Mark draws in a shaky breath. You watch him swallow thickly, then he stands up, undoing his blue jeans. When he pushes down his pants, he moves his underwear too, and just like that, your favourite line chef is standing naked in front of you.

He’s got a pretty cock. It’s girthy, cut, and must be around seven or so inches. The tip is curved slightly to his left, and it’s leaking precum even though you’ve hardly touched him.

Did Mark really get that turned on just from eating you out?

“Come here,” you offer him a small smile, shifting up your bed until your head reaches the pillows. You open your arms for Mark, watching him press a knee onto the mattress and approach you. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you drag him into a kiss.

The kiss is passionate, but there’s a tentative energy to it as Mark’s cock presses between your pussy lips, collecting the juice and saliva that’s congregated there. 

“Are you sure about this?” Mark asks, panting against your mouth. 

You open your eyes to look up at him, nodding.

“I uh… I need to hear you say yes.”

“Yes, Mark, I’m sure about this,” you say, trailing your fingers through his hair. “Please, I want you.”

He searches your eyes, then, with a final nod, he kisses you again. One of his hands slides between your bodies, and you feel him line his cock up with your core. Your legs tighten around his hips, and it’s something like a united effort when his length sinks into your pussy.

You both groan against each other’s lips. The kissing stops, but you remain close enough that your noses are touching. His breath is hot against your skin, and he begins to fuck you slowly, his cock filling you perfectly.

“You feel so good,” Mark groans. 

All you can do is moan in response, drawing his lips back to yours while he fucks you.

You get lost in the feeling of him, and the kissing does aid in calming down your tumultuous thoughts. You can focus on the pleasure that thrums through you with each thrust, the way his cock glides against your inner walls and stretches you out.

Mark grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers and pressing you against the bed, his hips working faster. His tongue is eager against your own, and he eats up your soft whimpers. His groans and grunts of effort make your soul sing, your heart beating quickly in your breast.

“Shit,” Mark pulls away from the kiss, looking down at you. “It’s been a minute since I’ve- since I’ve slept with anyone,” he admits. “I’m uh… pretty close.”

“Want you to cum,” you tell him.

“Yeah?”

“Please- want you to fill me up-”

Mark groans, pressing his lips against your own. You kiss him desperately, tightening your legs around his hips. He squeezes your hand, his groans muffled by your mouth.

His hips work faster and faster- then, all at once, he kind of just stops. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and his grip on your hand is tight as he coats your insides with his cum.

You hold him through his high, your free hand petting his hair while he brings his lips to your neck, panting desperately and kissing your skin. 

He lets out a sigh of relief as he finishes. Mark pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. You can tell there’s something he wants to say, but it’s clear that he’s not able to find the right words. “I, uh…” he licks his lips. “Should I grab you a tissue or something?”

“Yes, please,” you laugh, letting go of him so he can get off the bed. You watch him look around your room, finding your tissues on the nightstand. 

His legs are as covered in patchwork tattoos as the rest of him, and you’re pleased that the tour will continue another day. He hands you the tissue. “Do you want to use the bathroom first?”

“You can go for it, I just need a second,” you tell him.

Mark nods, pressing one last kiss to your lips before he leaves your bedroom.

You lay there in bed, holding the tissue between your legs to capture any of the cum beginning to leak out of you. 

You’re glad Mark got to cum. You’re not surprised you hadn’t. You just hope maybe one day you will get there, and for some reason, you have a hunch Mark will be the one to achieve an orgasm for you. Or at least, you hope he will. 

Nine

“So did you do it?” 

“Hmm?” Mark looks up from the chicken he’s cutting.

“You had your second date with Sunshine last night, right?” Hyuck presses. “So…. did you do it? Did you make her cum, or what?”

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” Mark sighs, looking at the other side of the kitchen where John is working. “We shouldn’t be talking about this here.”

“Nah, this is the perfect place to talk about it,” Hyuck leans against the work station, his back to the head chef. “So I’m guessing you didn’t make her cum.”

“Is that all you were thinking about every time you fucked her?” Mark asks.

“Duh.”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe that’s the kind of mentality that would make a girl overthink the situation?” Mark shakes his head. “I bet you would watch her super intently and then just ask her to cum.”

“That’s a move, Mark, it’s called having rizz.”

“But it never worked, so was it really rizz, or were you just fucking yourself over?”

Hyuck narrows his eyes. “So now you’re the expert on making girls cum?”

Over Hyuck’s shoulder, John stops what he’s doing and turns to stare at the line chefs. Mark can feel his skin heating, and he opens his mouth to rectify the situation, but Hyuck’s already speaking again. 

“I bet you a hundred bucks you won’t be able to make her cum.”

“Fuck you, I’m not betting money on this shit,” Mark hisses. 

“Sounds like something a pussy would say.”

“A pussy with a knife in his hand,” the line chef notes, his grip tightening on the handle. “Look, when I do make her cum, you have to stop bashing her like it’s her fault that you wouldn’t take the time to make her comfortable.” 

“And when you don’t make her cum?”

“It’s not going to happen.” Mark’s not sure where his confidence is coming from, but something in his heart tells him to be firm about this. He’s going to get you there. It might take a few weeks, hell, it might take over a month- but he’s going to get you to the point where you relax enough to cum for him, or so help him God-

Ten

Mark had cum inside of you three times since arriving at seven, and at two am he had finally broached the idea of heading home. “I should probably go,” the line chef had sighed, holding you closer to his chest.

“I mean… you could always just stay over?” you’d suggested.

“Yeah?”

“It’s our third date, why not?” you’d shrugged, cuddling tighter against him. 

You hadn’t planned this, it had just sort of happened, and that’s how Mark had ended up sleeping at your place for the first time. 

He’d woken up half way through the night, voice raspy, hands grabby, moaning about how lucky he was to be here with you. Falling asleep again after he’d railed you had been as easy as breathing, and now, in the morning hours, you’re in the shower to wash off all the cum he’d left on and inside of you. 

Neither of you have to be at work till the afternoon, and you kind of like the idea of lazing around with Mark, who’s still passed out in your bed. 

You take your time with your skin care and hair, and when you finally enter your room, you’re intrigued to find the line chef still asleep. He’s quite handsome like this, all bundled up in your white duvet, blonde hair shining around him like a halo.

You try to be careful as you crawl onto the mattress next to him, but Mark immediately rolls over to pull you tight to his chest. He lets out a soft groan, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

God, why are things so domestic with this boy already?

His hands trail up and down your back, fingers stroking your skin. You’d put on his shirt, but other than that, you’re naked, and it doesn’t take long for Mark to realize that fact. His touch moves down to your hip, sliding under the shirt. His thumb draws circles against your bare skin, and he lets out another moan. 

“Morning, puppy boy,” you laugh.

“Hungry,” Mark whispers. 

“Hmm?”

“I said,” he leans down, pressing kisses to your throat, his lips brushing by your ear when he repeats himself; “Hungry.”

“I can make you breakfast,” you assure him.

“Don’t want food,” Mark says. “Want you.”

In one quick motion he pushes you onto your back, getting on top of you. His breath is hot against your neck, and he tugs on your shirt, pulling it up to reveal your breasts. His mouth wraps around your nipple, and he sucks on it gently, releasing sounds of pleasure. 

You thread your fingers through his hair, letting out a sigh of relief. “Feels good,” you tell him.

One of his hands slips between your legs, his digits teasing your slit. “Always so wet for me,” he groans, releasing your nipple with a pop. “Can I taste?”

Mark is definitely getting more bold with you, but that’s what happens when you’ve fucked a handful of times, had three dates, and one sleep over. 

“You can do anything you want to me,” you tell him.

The line chef kisses down your abdomen, pushing your legs open as he settles between them. You thread your fingers through his hair as he brings his mouth to your core, licking at your pussy lips. 

Mark is really good at oral. This is the fourth time he’s eaten you out. With each time he presses his mouth to your pussy, part of you gets more and more convinced that you’ll cum this way. When he adds two fingers into your aching core, you’re pretty much sure that it will happen-

It feels so good, and the moans that escape you reflect that. Your hips buck toward his face, prompting Mark to press a palm to your lower abdomen, keeping you pinned.

But every time you think you’re close - every time you’re about to announce it to him - the feeling dissipates. 

You can feel yourself getting more and more irritated with your body, and soon, you give up entirely. “Mark?”

“Hmm?” The vibrations against your clit have your thighs shaking.

“Can I just- can we just fuck? Please? I want you inside of me.”

Mark pulls away from your pussy, his fingers continuing in your hole. “Are you sure? You know I enjoy playing with you like this.”

“I know- but, I just- I’m in my head again. Want your cock in my pussy.”

Mark takes his fingers out of your core, bringing them to his lips to lick clean. Then he crawls up your body, kissing you so you can taste yourself on his tongue. 

“I’ll fuck you,” he says, “but don’t ever think I don’t enjoy being between your thighs like that, okay? You don’t have to cum, I know from the sounds that you make that you enjoy it, and that’s enough for me until you get there, yeah?”

You swallow thickly, nodding. “I’m still in my head.”

“I get that, Sunshine,” he kisses you gently, cupping your cheek as he lines his cock up with your wet hole. “If there’s anything I can do to stop the overthinking-”

“Just fuck me,” you insist, wrapping your legs around his hips.

Mark laughs. “You got it.”

Eleven

“Dude, is that a hickey on your neck?” Hyuck’s annoying voice makes Mark flinch, and his hand immediately flies to slap against the side of his throat.

“What? No.” 

“It totally is,” Hyuck laughs. “Damn, you two must really be going at it a lot.”

“We’re having fun.”

“Fun like two times? Three?”

“Fun like five times in the past twenty four hours.”

“Jesus Christ.” Hyuck’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t know what you were talking about with her not being able to sleep next to you. She passed out just fine with me last night.”

Hyuck lets out a deep breath. “Fucking Hell. Maybe I underestimated you. So… did she cum?” 

Mark sighs. He hates to be talking about this while at work. You’re running food, but you could be back at any second, and Mark doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea about all of this. Hyuck is the instigator of these sexual talks, and Mark doesn’t know how much to keep to himself.

“So that’s a no,” Hyuck deduces. “Big ouch.”

“I feel like we shouldn’t talk about this anymore,” Mark says finally.

“Why? Is your pride hurt?” 

Mark lets out another annoyed breath. “I just think it’s disrespectful. You’re an ex fling of hers, you don’t deserve to know everything about her personal life.”

“I don't want to know about her personal life,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “I want to know about her sex life, there’s a difference.” 

“I’m done talking to you about this,” Mark insists.

“Damn, someone is starting to sound like a protective boyfriend. Jeeze, calm down.”

Mark hates that there’s some truth in what Hyuck is saying. He already feels quite protective of you. He’s got dates planned, things that can make you smile. He pays close attention to you when you speak, looking for your likes and dislikes. 

Mark is falling for you faster than he’d ever care to admit, especially not to Hyuck of all people. 

Twelve

“Who does a staff Christmas party in January?” Jungwoo asks as a bunch of you take the big table after the restaurant has closed.

“We were all too busy at Chirstmas time, remember?” Jaehyun says, looking at his waiter friend. “And then there was New Years, and we closed early.”

“I agree with you Woo, a mid January Christmas party feels weird,” you grin, leaning against your favourite server. 

In all honesty, it feels like your managers Taeil and Doyoung just wanted to give you all some time to relax and celebrate. January can be a slow month in the restaurant business, and you’d heard Jeno mention yesterday that there are four or five bottles of wine that no one has been ordering that have to be used up. 

As you begin to drink the wine, the mid January Christmas party makes more and more sense. The chefs have finished their closing tasks, with John joining you first, followed by Hyuck, and finally Mark.

With Jaehyun across from you, Jungwoo on one side, and John on the other, you’re surrounded. Mark sits at the other end of the table, offering you a small smile. You give him a gentle wave in response, giggling to yourself over the rim of your wine glass.

“Gosh, Sunshine,” Jungwoo slides closer to you. “Are you drunk already?”

“You’ve been refilling my glass,” you point out, pouting a little.

“Because you’re a cute drunk,” he grins. 

“A very cute drunk,” Jaehyun agrees, eyeing you from across the table. 

The thing about dating a coworker and it being new means you can’t talk about it. Until there’s a label with you and Mark, you’re keeping your lips shut. As far as Jungwoo or Jaehyun know, you’re single, and the latter of the two has been hitting on you for months.

It feels odd to have Jaehyun calling you cute while Mark is just a few seats down. Your stomach twists into drunken knots, and you wish you could move to be closer to your new secret Boo-

In the periphery of your vision, you note Mark stand up and begin to head to the bar. It feels like the perfect excuse to get some time alone with him, so you hop off of your chair. 

Mark’s grabbed a glass and is beginning to pour himself a beer from the tap by the time you reach him. “Hi, puppy boy,” you grin.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he laughs, looking you up and down. “Jungwoo’s been feeding you the wine, huh?”

“Just like… a normal amount.” God, you can’t help but smile constantly at the boy who has your heart twisting into love sick knots. 

“Are you tipsy?” Mark cocks his head to the side as he finishes pouring his drink.

“Maybe…”

“Can I get you some water?” he suggests.

You lean forward over the bar top, lowering your voice so only Mark can hear you. “I’m thirsty, but not for water or wine.”

It takes Mark a moment to read the innuendo of your words, but then he laughs. “I should get you some water.”

“What if I don’t drink it?”

“What if I ask you to please drink it?” he counters, already filling a cup for you. 

“Okay, fine. Just for you, though.” 

Mark grins as he hands you the glass.

“Why do you take care of me so much?” you ask, as the two of you head back to the table.

“Because,” Mark pulls your chair out for you, “you’re my favourite expo girl.”

“I better be,” you say, teasingly narrowing your eyes at Mark before he walks back to his own seat down the long table.

You begin to nurse your water. Mark’s right about you needing it. The tipsyness has somehow intensified- probably because Jungwoo had insisted you finish your wine glass. You feel blurry as you sit there and listen to your coworkers chat.

“I just don’t like saying chicken breast,” Jungwoo states.

“But that’s what they are!” Yuta, one of the night line chefs, insists. “They’re breasts!”

“I just tell customers that the alfredo comes with chicken, they don’t need to hear me say breast!” Jungwoo fights back. “Jaehyun agrees with me, right Jae?”

“Yeah, I just say chicken,” the man across from you nods.

“Taeyong also just says chicken,” Jungwoo continues. “So right now it’s three to one.”

“Hyuck,” Yuta calls across the table, gaining the attention of the men at the other end. “Do you call it chicken breast, or just chicken?”

“Neither,” Hyuck says confidently. “Thems some chicken boobies.”

You can’t believe the conversation you’re hearing. “I think it’s time for me to leave,” you decide. 

“What? Why?” Jungwoo whines.

“I can’t be here for a discussion about chicken.”

Jungwoo slams his hand on the table. “See, she said just chicken too!” 

Yuta points his finger at you like you’re on a game show. “Is that your final answer?” 

You lean forward, pretending his hand is a microphone. “Chicken titties.”

“Yeah, we’re cutting you off,” Jungwoo decides. “You need to go home and sleep.”

“Someone should make sure you get back to your place okay,” Jaehyun notes, standing from his chair.

“I’ll take care of her,” comes Mark’s voice from the other end of the table.

Jaehyun turns to stare at the line chef, who also stands up. 

John is next to you, and you watch a knowing expression appear on his features, grinning as he sips his beer. 

“You still have half your drink left,” Jaehyun insists, “And, I’ve known our little miss Sunshine for much longer than you have. I’m sure she’s probably more comfortable with me taking her home.”

A muscle in Mark’s jaw feathers. You watch him reach down and grab his beer, downing the whole thing in three large gulps before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

Fuck, the motion reminds you of what he does whenever he eats you out, and you feel almost dizzy thinking about it.

“Who’s it gonna be, Sunshine?” Hyuck grins. “Jaehyun, or Marky boy?”

“Let’s go, Mark,” you say, offering Jaehyun a small smile. “We’ll see all you guys tomorrow.”

Jaehyun looks pretty defeated, but you can’t even bring yourself to care as Mark comes around the table to offer you his arm. At first, you think you don’t his help, but when you stumble after one step, you latch onto his bicep.

“I was hoping you’d go home with me tonight,” you whisper as the two of you exit to the parking lot, where Mark’s truck is waiting. He helps you climb inside, smiling and shaking his head.

“Sunshine, if you ever want me to go home with you, you don’t have to get drunk, just ask.”

Thirteen

“I’m really not that drunk,” you insist, making your way over to the liquor cabinet again.

Mark sighs. You’re a grown adult, he can’t keep directing you away from the booze. “Okay, I believe you. What do you want? Let me make it for you.”

“I want…” you think about it for a moment. “An espresso martini.”

“It’s late, won’t the espresso make it hard for you to sleep?” You’re definitely drunk and you both know it.

“I don’t care. Want espresso martini.”

“Okay, Sunshine, you got it.” Mark moves through your kitchen, finding the espresso machine there. He slips a pod into the device, setting up a cup. 

“Can you add honey?” you ask, already moving to the cabinet to grab a bottle. Mark takes it from you, squeezing some of the honey into the bottom of the cup as hot coffee begins to pour over it. “I also want Baileys.”

Mark laughs a little, shaking his head as you stumble to grab the large Irish Cream bottle from your cupboard.

“And also ice,” you declare. “Frothed.”

“This is a whole thing, huh?” Mark watches you fill the frother with Baileys. 

“I like what I like,” you insist. “We’re gonna triple froth this.”

“You’re the boss.” Mark reaches into his pocket, pulling out his vape. You’ve been letting him smoke in here, and he appreciates the reprieve as the two of you make this very complicated espresso martini. 

By the time you’re done with it, Mark’s not even sure you could call it an espresso martini. With the amount of frothed foam on top, this drink is something else entirely. 

He watches you lift the cup to your lips, immediately getting foam on your face. You simply giggle and wipe it off, licking your finger clean. Then you dip your digit into the froth, scooping it up and popping it in your mouth.

Mark swallows thickly while watching you do this.

“Puppy,” you groan, “this is so good.” You offer him your finger. “Try it.”

Mark can’t say no to you, so he allows you to dip your finger into his mouth. He licks you clean, watching the way your breath catches. You bite on your bottom lip, swaying a little on your feet.

“Your turn,” you say quietly, holding out the cup.

“My turn?”

“I wanna suck on your fingers.”

Mark knows you're drunk. He knows this probably isn’t the best idea for either of you, but he simply can’t say no to you. Not now, not ever. 

He dips his pointer into the foam, then presents it to you. 

You grab his wrist, keeping him still while you move forward to suck on his finger, releasing a small groan. Mark can already feel the blood rushing to his cock, but he ignores it as he goes for another scoop of froth. 

“Tastes better on you,” you tell him, licking his digit clean again. “More. Please.” 

The way you look at him each time you suck his finger tells Mark that you’re as horny as he is. When he scoops with two digits, you practically mewl as you lick.

“I wanna suck on something bigger,” you state.

“Sunshine,” Mark sighs, “I really don’t want to take advantage-” 

“You’re not. Mark, you’ve eaten me out so many times, please let me return the favour?” You’re already sinking to your knees on the kitchen floor, and the sight of you makes Mark’s cock throb in his jeans. “Please, I just wanna suck you off.”

“You know I can never say no to you.”

As the words leave him your hands find his belt. In moments, you’re pushing his pants down, your grip wrapping around the base of his cock. He watches you lick your lips, your gaze meeting his as you lean forward to take him into your mouth.

Mark immediately lets out a groan. “You feel so good, sunshine.”

You whimper around his length, and the vibration has Mark’s fingers twitching. He reaches for your head, cupping your face while you suck him off. His other hand places your drink on the kitchen counter before falling to his side. The line chef’s head falls back, his eyes closing as he eats up the feeling of you.

“That’s it,” he sighs, loving the way you twirl your tongue around his shaft.

You take as much of him past your lips as possible, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, causing Mark’s eyes to fly open. He looks down at you with concern, but you keep sucking him.

“You don’t have to deep throat me,” Mark assures you, pushing some hair away from your face.

You let out a whine, sinking onto him again, only for your throat to constrict tight around his tip. 

Mark groans. “Fuck, Sunshine, I’m serious.”

The line chef could never do what you’re doing right now. Not because he’s not into cock, but because he has the worst gag reflex ever. He knows what it’s like to choke, and he doesn’t want you sputtering on his cock in the name of pleasuring him. 

When you try to deep throat him a third time, Mark simply pulls you off of him. He’s struck by the view of a string of saliva keeping you connected to his cock, and the way you look up at him in a confused daze has his heart thundering in his chest.

“Enough of that,” Mark says softly. “Let me take care of you.”

He reaches down, gently taking your hands so he can help you to your feet. 

“Bedroom?” he suggests.

You nod, swallowing thickly and wiping at your mouth, then you dart off. You’re awfully agile for a drunk girl, and Mark smiles to himself before following you. By the time he’s made it to the bedroom, you’ve already stripped.

You’re sitting on the bed, grinning at him with a hint of mischief in your eye.

“Take advantage of me, Mark,” you say as he pulls off his shirt.

“Jesus,” Mark whispers. “I hate to say it, but that line is not enticing at all.”

He’s still kind of questioning if this is a good idea, but at the same time, you’ve already fucked on multiple occasions. He knows you want him sober, and especially - it appears - while drunk. 

“Come on, please?” You pout out your lower lip.

Mark slips out of his jeans, joining you on the bed. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss while your legs encircle his hips.

As his cock slips past your core, Mark is shocked at how wet you already are. Booze has really done a number on you, but neither of you are complaining.

“You sure you want this?” he asks.

“Don’t make me beg,” you laugh, “Cuz I will.”

“No, it’s okay,” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “Just checking.”

Before he can reach for his cock, you beat him to it, grabbing the base and lining his tip up with your entrance. “Fuck me, Mark, I’m begging for it.”

He presses his lips hard against your own as he pushes into your wet hole, both of you groaning loudly at the feeling. 

“Shit,” you whimper, breaking the kiss to look up at him, “I’m so sensitive today-”

“Alcohol does that sometimes,” Mark notes, bringing up a hand to cup your breast. When his fingers pinch your nipple, you let out a high pitched squeal, pushing your chest up toward his palm. 

“Fuck, Mark-” Your pussy clenches tight around him, and the feeling makes Mark dizzy. 

“You sound so good, Sunshine, and you’re gripping me so fucking hard-” Mark begins to fuck into you. Your nails claw at his arms, your head thrown back, eyes closed.

Mark reaches down to rub your clit. You shudder below him, legs tightening around his hips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you moan loudly. “Just like that-”

He applies more pressure to your sensitive bud, making your hips buck toward him, your core clenching him in a death grip. 

“If you keep squeezing me like this, I’m not going to last long-” he warns you, tension building in the base of his cock.

“I want you to cum,” you insist, opening your eyes to look at him.

“Don’t you want to try and get there too?” he asks. 

“I don’t-” you swallow thickly, “I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Let me fuck you a little longer, yeah?” Mark prompts. “I can wait a bit. Actually, we should switch positions.”

“To what?”

“Can you get on your knees for me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you nod quickly. As soon as Mark pulls away, you’re flipping over, pushing your ass into the air for him.

“Fuck, what a view,” he breathes, hands smoothing across your bum. 

You whimper, and the sound encourages Mark to slip himself into you again. The sigh of relief that leaves you has Mark’s skin tingling, his grip finding your hips. 

“It’s so deep,” you groan, tangling your fingers in the sheets.

You’re right about that- your wet pussy is taking every inch Mark has, and each smack of his hips against your ass has you getting even wetter. He’s pretty sure you’re dripping down your thighs at this point, and his fingers dig into your skin even harder.

The sounds you’re making are like music to his ears. Your grip on his cock is insane. Mark’s pretty sure tonight is going to be the night that you cum- but as he continues fucking you, it becomes more and more clear that only one of you is going to get there- and fast. 

“Fuck,” Mark grunts, his heart racing in his chest as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. 

“Cum in me,” you insist, reaching behind yourself.

Mark grabs your hand, lacing your fingers and holding you against the small of your back.

“You really want me to cum?” he asks, breathless.

“Please,” you nod, squeezing his hand. “Wanna be full.”

Again, Mark can’t say no to you.

“Okay, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whispers, fucking you even harder. “Shit-” 

His orgasm hits straight on, tingling through his entire body like an electric jolt. He pushes his cock into you as deep as it can go, feeling it throb as he coats your walls in cum. Mark throws his head back, eyes closed, overcome by the pleasure that courses through him.

He’s not the type that can fuck someone through his high. When he cums, he has to stop, has to experience the feeling in full. His mind goes completely blank…

But his first thought when the words come back is that he should tell you he loves you.

Fuck. This is becoming a problem. 

Every time he cums deep inside of you, his feelings grow. He’s overwhelmed with this sense that you’re meant to be, that he should just lock you down and let you know how much you mean to him.

But as always, that logical side rears its head, reminding Mark that it’s only been a few weeks of seeing each other. He needs to take things slow- for your sake. He doesn’t want to scare you away. Being a safe space for you includes watching his tongue, it means not putting pressure on you like this- 

If there’s one thing that will pressure you, it’s the admittance that he’s kind of in love with you.

Instead of saying what’s on the tip of his tongue, Mark pulls out of you. He gets you a tissue for the cum that begins to drip out of your pussy, and a cup of water to make sure you’re hydrated. Once you’ve both cleaned up in the bathroom, he cuddles you close to his chest, stroking your back and listening to you breathe.

To Mark’s complete shock, you fall asleep on him within minutes. 

It’s a sign that you’re truly feeling safe with him, and Mark thinks he must be going in the right direction. He’s careful not to wake you up, he simply enjoys the feeling of holding you close while you rest.

Fourteen

You wake up slowly, cuddling closer to the warmth next to you. It takes you a moment to realize that the heat is coming from Mark, and you open your eyes to stare at him.

“Morning,” Mark grins, putting down his phone to watch you. “Sleep well?”

“Shockingly well,” you grin, snuggling closer. “You?”

“I like sleeping next to you,” Mark muses, wrapping his arms around you. “You know, I was thinking I could make you breakfast or something. Neither of us have work today.”

“Breakfast?” You perk up.

“Yeah, I can cook most breakfast or brunch foods, but uh… don’t ask me to make eggs.”

“Eggs?” You raise your brows, looking at him with a laugh.

“I know, it’s stupid cuz I’m literally a line chef, but I never went to school for it, remember?” Mark grins, stroking your skin. “John tried to teach me during brunch last week but I just- don’t have the patience for eggs.”

“Poor John, hired a chef who can’t cook eggs,” you tease. “Are you sure you don’t want something else for breakfast?”

“Like what?”

“Like… me?” 

Mark laughs. “As much as I’d love to fuck you today, I feel like- maybe it would be nice to not sleep together this morning... You know this isn’t just sex for me, right?”

“Yeah, but… sex is nice, isn’t it?”

Mark strokes your cheek, meeting your eyes. “Sex with you is always nice, but I think I kind of want to be domestic with you today instead, if that’s okay.”

Your heart clenches in your chest at his words. You can’t help but lean forward and kiss him gently. “That’s okay with me.”

“Good,” Mark grins. “Let's cuddle some more, and when you get hungry, I’ll take care of the food.”

As you slowly wake up next to Mark, you’re struck by how comfortable you are. Being with him like this feels natural. There’s no pressure to fuck, no need to suck dick in order to earn affection- Mark simply cares about you, and it’s clear in the way he holds you.

If you’re not careful, you could get used to this.

Fifteen

Since the ‘Christmas’ party, Mark’s been wanting to broach the subject of Jaehyun with you, but in the handful of times he’s slept over with you since then, it’s just never come up.

Today, watching Jaehyun talk with you by the bar, the question is fresh on Mark’s mind, and he only has one person he can justifiably ask about it.

“So… how close are Jae and y/n?”

“Hmm?” Hyuck looks up from the burger he’s stacking. “Oh, those two? Pretty close.”

Mark groans at the lack of detail. “Did they ever date?”

“I think she’s definitely his work crush. Pretty sure he’s asked her out a few times, but I don’t know if she realized it was a date sort of thing.” Hyuck laughs to himself. “I actually walked in on him asking her out around Halloween, but I think she thought it was a group idea. She rejected him though.”

“Looks like he hasn’t taken the hint,” Mark says, mouth forming a firm line.

“Nah, Jae has a pretty big ego. I mean, you’ve seen his face. He’s not used to rejection, it doesn’t compute for him.”

Mark doesn’t say anything, he simply goes back to the alfredo he’s cooking. But it becomes clear that Hyuck doesn’t want to let this go.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you, Marky boy?”

“No.”

“Yes, you totally are,” Hyuck grins. “How long have you and Sunshine been seeing each other now?”

“Like… three weeks? A month almost?”

“Have you talked about being exclusive or anything?”

“Not really.”

Hyuck rolls his eyes. “It’s a yes or a no, Mark. There’s no ‘not really,’ when it comes to ‘the talk.’”

“No, we haven’t talked about it,” Mark admits with a sigh.

“Sounds like something you want though, right?” Hyuck presses.

“I thought I said I wasn’t going to talk to you about this anymore.”

“You’re the one who brought up Jae,” Hyuck points out, raising his hands in mock defense. 

Mark supposes Hyuck is right about that. He’s been considering defining the relationship recently- thinking about how a label could offer you safety, stability, things that are needed to help you relax. 

But now, the label transcends the use for comfortability and cumming, it almost feels needed.

You’re hot. Mark knows that. He sees the way people hit on you every day while you’re working. At first, he’d been okay with it- but now, he thinks maybe he needs something more. Maybe he needs the comfort of knowing that you’re taken, by him. 

He’s not the type to feel insecure, and he’s not even sure that insecurity is the right word for what he’s feeling.

All Mark knows, is that he wants to get to the next level with you, and he’s going to pull up his big boy pants to finally do it.

Sixteen

You’ve been at home for a few hours, having been cut from work early since it was a slow day, and you’re a little surprised when Mark calls you around dinner time.

“Hey you,” you grin, collapsing onto your bed to give Mark your full focus.

“Whatcha doin?” he asks.

“Just sitting here, was thinking of watching a movie. How about you? Just got off work?”

“Yeah, in a minute, just taking a vape break first. I was thinking maybe you’d let me see you when I’m off?”

“Definitely, you know my door is always open for you. But I should warn you, I have literally nothing in my fridge.”

“That’s okay, I’ll make your favourite and bring takeout,” Mark assures you. “See you in like… half an hour?”

That’s how Mark shows up on your home a short while later. You look him up and down, taking in his work outfit. “Didn’t wanna change after shift?” you grin, holding your door open for him.

“I uh, wanted to see you. Need a shower, so I figured I’d put on my fresh clothes after that.”

“Sounds good, you know that my home is your home. Go shower, I’ll put our food in bowls.” You accept the takeout from Mark, intent on turning to head to the kitchen- only for him to pull you back into an embrace.

“Hi,” he mumbles, kissing the side of your head and nuzzling against your hair.

“Hi,” you grin, turning in his arms to press your lips to his. “Go shower.”

“You got it.”

Mark goes into your bathroom, and a moment later you hear the water begin to run. You take your time in the kitchen. Mark has made himself alfredo, and he’s cooked your favourite rice bowl for you. You smile to yourself while plating the food, loving how domestic things have gotten with Mark.

Part of you is tempted to join Mark in the shower, but you’re not sure if you’re there yet, so you wait patiently for him to finish. This isn’t the first time he’s showered at your place, and you trust he’ll see his designated towel hanging on the hook behind your door. 

You kind of enjoy that he’s gotten so comfortable at your home. You’ve been spending so much time with him here and at work that it feels kind of odd when he’s not around. 

Soon, Mark is coming out of the bathroom. He’s in sweatpants and a tank top that shows off his tattoos. You have to actively stop yourself from drooling as you move to sit at the dinner table.

“So… did you need to talk to me about something?”

“Hmm?” Mark sits across from you.

“We didn’t have plans, you called and wanted to come over, I guess I’m just wondering if you had a specific reason.”

“Can’t I just miss you?” he grins.

Despite his words, it’s clear that there’s more to it, however you drop the issue. When Mark is ready to be real with you, he will be. You have time until then.

Mark begins to talk about work, how it had gotten busy after you’d left. You listen, happy to chat with him while you eat. 

After food, the two of you move to the couch, cuddling up while Netflix starts.

You’re two seasons into your anime already, it’s funny how time flies. You can turn your brain off when Mark spoons you, his lips pressing soft kisses to your shoulder every now and again.

One episode in, Mark reaches over you for the remote, pausing your show. 

“I guess there is a reason I wanted to come over,” he admits finally.

“Yeah?” You turn onto your back, looking up at him. 

“I hate to say that I’ve been jealous, but uh… since the Christmas party, I’ve been a little jealous about you and Jaehyun.” Mark won’t meet your eyes, and you give him the space to continue. “I just… people are always hitting on you, and I don’t know, I think… I mean, I’m a serial monogamist according to Hyuck, and I know we haven’t been seeing each other for that long, but I only see you, in all ways, and I just… I don’t want to lock you down if you’re not looking for something serious, but I guess I wanted to know how you feel about exclusivity and that sort of thing.”

“With you? Mark… I’d love to be exclusive.” You let out a small laugh. “Don’t you realize that I have to watch girls flirt with you too? Maybe we’ve both been jealous.  I think… locking each other down would be good for us.”

“Yeah?” Mark’s beaming now.

“You’re special,” you confess. “I’ve never been able to sleep next to a guy I’ve slept with, which feels like such a contradiction- but sleep has always come easy with you. I’ve never felt such a lack of pressure- such acceptance, for all of me, the good and the bad. I like you a lot Mark, and I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear.”

“It’s not that it wasn’t clear,” Mark assures you, cupping your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “I just… I know you have that wild side, which is totally valid, I just wasn’t sure you were a settling down type.”

“I wasn’t so sure I was either, and then I met you.”

Mark kisses you instead of responding, but you can feel the emotion in the press of his lips against yours. He’s elated by what you’ve just said, and you’re close to floating to cloud nine too. 

Even so, there’s something else. You can feel it in the slight tension of his shoulders when your fingers brush over his skin.

“Mark?” you break the kiss, blinking at him. “Is there something else on your mind?”

“It’s just… I know I said there’s no pressure, but I really wanna help you cum. And I’ve been thinking maybe… maybe we could use some of your toys.”

“My toys?”

“Like… some girls cum better with a vibrator, and if you have one, I’d love to use it on you.”

“Really?” You’re shocked. Lots of men think their dick is good enough, they feel emasculated to bring sex toys into the mix- but here’s Mark, being as contrarian as ever. 

“Even if it doesn’t help you cum, I still think it would be fun. I’m not trying to pressure you-”

“We can use my vibrator,” you assure him, heart thundering in your rib cage at the mere thought of it. 

No man has ever used a sex toy on you- it’s probably one of the reasons you’ve never cum with a lover before.

“Come on,” you sit up, heading to your bedroom while Mark follows. “I keep my toys in the closet,” you explain, bending down to find the shoe box that stores your vibrator. You pull the device out, showing it to Mark. “Is this going to work?”

“Yeah, it will work.” Mark watches you stand up, and he holds out his hand for you to pass the toy to him. “I’m uh… I’m gonna put this down so I can get you naked.”

“Okay,” you grin.

He sets the vibrator on your bed gently, turning to you. Mark grabs your face first, pulling you in for a kiss. He’s gentler than you thought he would be, but you don’t mind it. You like getting lost in the feeling of Mark, allowing him to guide you toward the bed.

When you reach your mattress, his hands slip down to the hem of your shirt. He carefully removes it, and you lift your arms to help him with the task. Mark doesn’t immediately go for your pants next, he kisses you again instead, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other grabs the small of your back.

His touch is so gentle, smoothing across your skin. It’s making you even more eager, and you find yourself removing his shirt before he begins to work on your sleep shorts. Soon, you’re just in a bra and panties, but even those get taken off. 

When you’re completely bare, Mark gently pushes you down onto your bed, eyes taking in your body.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he muses.

Your skin heats at the praise, and you begin to close your thighs, only for Mark to gently prompt them open. 

“Don’t hide from me, please,” Mark says softly, getting onto his knees at the foot of your bed. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your clit before he pushes his tongue into your wet hole.

You breathe a sigh of relief, threading your fingers through his hair. You adjust your thighs on his shoulders, trailing your toes against his well-defined back. 

He eats you out for a little while, groaning as he goes. It’s clear to you now that Mark enjoys getting his fill of you, and it makes the experience ten times more enjoyable for you. You’ve been getting better at slowing your mind while Mark licks at your clit, better at focusing on him and not all the worrying thoughts that generally buzz around you.

You feel the bed shift, and you open your eyes to see Mark has reached for the vibrator. He turns it on, assessing the way the toy shakes on the lowest setting. “Do you wanna show me where to use this, sunshine?” he asks, holding it out to you.

With a deep breath, you nod, accepting the toy and bringing it to your clit. “I like… a good amount of pressure,” you tell him, showing him exactly where you like the vibrator to be held.

It feels kind of odd to be pleasuring yourself like this in front of Mark, but from the way his pupils are blown, eyes fixed completely on your core, you can tell that he’s enjoying the view. It makes you feel more confident, as you begin to drag the vibrator side to side, teasing yourself. 

“This sort of movement is good too,” you tell him.

“Can I take over now?” he asks.

You nod, allowing him to grab the handle of the toy. 

Now that you’re not the one holding it, you can focus completely on the feeling of your clit being vibrated. It feels amazing, your toes curling at the stimulus.

Mark’s free hand is on your inner thigh, smoothing against your skin, but soon, it joins the vibrator. He teases two fingers along your folds before pushing them into you, crooking them up to find the spongey spot that has you crying out.

“You make such pretty sounds,” Mark tells you, applying more pressure to your clit with the vibe. “Fuck, I could watch you like this all night.”

“Puppy-” you whimper, skin tingling at his words.

“You have no idea how good you look,” he continues. “I swear- I want you to cum, but even if you don’t, I’m not going to be able to forget about this. This view is- fuck, it’s the best view in the world. We’re going to be at work and this is all I’ll be thinking about. I won’t be able to get you out of my head.”

With each admittance, each uttered word of praise, you can feel the tension building in the pit of your stomach.

“Can you grind on this a little, sunshine? Grind on my fingers and your toy?”

“Yeah-” you whimper, hips moving as you try to follow with his prompt. 

“That’s it-” Mark groans. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

His fingers work harder inside of you, and the added pressure makes you squeal. You can’t help the way one of your arms comes up to cover your face, muffling your sounds as your body moves on it’s own accord now. You’re grinding against his hand, grinding against the vibrator that sends tremors of pleasure through your entire form.

“I’m so fucking lucky,” Mark tells you. “So lucky that you’re mine- I could watch you like this for hours and not get bored.”

“Mark-” you groan. Usually, when you acknowledge an orgasm building, it dissipates, like some cruel trick of fate, a complete defiance of the laws of physics- but this time, when you whimper “I’m close” the feeling doesn't fade, it only builds.

“Yeah?” Mark sounds shocked. “All it took was a vibe, huh?”

“And… and your praise-”

“You like when I talk dirty to you, sunshine?” Mark asks. “Like it when I tell you how perfect and pretty you are?”

“Yes-”

“Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Or should I finger fuck this cute little pussy even harder?”

“Oh my God-” you whimper. Mark has truly gotten comfortable with you now- he’s not holding back with his sinful words, and they make your stomach pull into a tight knot. “Please, harder-”

Mark presses the vibrator against your clit, turning up the vibration with his thumb while his fingers continue their brutal pace inside your core.

You find yourself gasping, unable to speak as he works you closer and closer-

“Cumming-” you whisper, your orgasm slamming into you like a train. 

Your breath catches, waves of pleasure surging through you. Your fists grip the sheets, your back arches, your thighs quaking around Mark. Whimpers and moans fill the room, your core pulsating around Mark’s fingers while he works you through your high.

“That’s it,” Mark groans. “That’s my good girl.”

“Puppy-” you breathe, the feeling almost becoming too much for you.

“What do you need, sunshine?”

“Your cock,” you blurt out. 

“Yeah?” Mark’s fingers slow inside your pussy. 

“Please, wanna cum on your cock-”

Mark lets out a breath. “Holy fuck.” He turns the vibrator off, taking his digits from your core. Mark licks them clean before he stands up, pushing down his sweatpants. “Move up the bed for me?” he suggests.

You wiggle up to the pillows, watching Mark get onto the mattress. He allows you to lock your legs around his hips, pulling him close while he crashes his lips to yours.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, kissing him deeply. He ruts his hips, allowing you to feel his cock dragging against your core.

Patience is a virtue, but you don’t have any left. You reach between your bodies, grabbing his hard length to line it up with your pussy. 

Mark slides into you, and you let out an immediate sigh of relief. His fingers had been nice, but his cock is even better. It stretches you open, you can feel him deeper than ever. You gasp against his mouth, dragging him closer as he begins to thrust into you. 

“You feel so good, sunshine,” Mark groans, breaking the kiss so he can press his lips to your throat. 

“Puppy-” you whimper, arching your neck so he has better access to find your sweet spot.

Mark captures your hands, lacing your fingers and pressing you into the bed while he fucks you. 

You can feel him everywhere. You’re completely bewitched by Mark Lee. Your core is practically dripping, each thrust made easy by the wet that exudes out of you. 

Then Mark is reaching for your vibrator. He sits up slightly, looking down at you. “Missionary? Or maybe doggy would be better?”

“I wanna see you when I cum again,” you tell him, accepting the vibrator he holds out to you. “Want you to see me cum with your cock in my pussy.”

Mark lets out a low groan, pressing his lips to yours as you turn on the toy, adjusting it onto your clit.

“If you can’t cum, that’s okay-”

“I think I’ll cum,” you assure him. “Just fuck me hard, and I’ll get there.”

“I can do that,” Mark grins, immediately picking up his pace and adding more power to his thrusts.

“And… tell me I’m pretty again?”

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Mark groans. “I’m so fucking lucky- how did I ever get this lucky?”

“Puppy-”

“You have no idea how into you I am- I love your sounds, love your voice- love the face you make when you feel good- love your smile-”

Each admittance has your heart buzzing in your chest. It’s crazy how easy it is for him to praise you- it almost feels like all these things were built up inside, like he’s a dam that’s just been released, and God, you love the flood.

You press the vibrator harder against your clit, entire body surging with energy. 

“You’re squeezing me so well, baby,” Mark groans, and the sound has your pussy throbbing. “Want you to cum with me so bad, do you think you can cum with me?”

“Yeah, just- kiss me?” you suggest.

Mark presses his lips to yours immediately, cupping your face with one hand. His tongue glides against your own. You eat up each other's sounds, getting completely lost in each other.

In no time at all, another orgasm is building in the pit of your stomach. 

“I’m gonna-” you whimper against his lips.

Mark fucks you even harder in response, and the motion is dizzying. 

“Please, sunshine, cum with me- fuck, I can’t hold it, cum with me-”

His words are your last straw as you explode on his cock. Your core clamps down hard, gasps of extacy escaping you.

To Mark’s credit, he holds off his own high long enough to fuck you through yours, and the moment you begin to be oversitmulated, he cums too. You can feel his cock throbbing in your pussy, his load spilling along your insides and coating your walls.

You kiss him deeply, enjoying his whimpers of pleasure.

You’ve never cum with someone balls deep inside of you before, and there’s a voice in the back of your mind itching for you to tell Mark that you love him- but you bite your tongue. You simply kiss him, holding him close while he finishes.

Finally, Mark lets out a small gasp, pulling away from your lips. His forehead presses against yours, and you’re both breathing heavily.

You’ve never felt this connected to someone in your entire life.

“Are you going to get us tissues?” you ask after a moment, letting out a small laugh.

Mark chuckles, pressing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss. “I just wanna enjoy you a second longer.”

“Puppy, you have literally all the time in the world.”

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I really wanted to kick the year off with something more realistic. I wanted to write about a reader who over thinks, who doesn’t cum super easily like we usually see in fanfic. I wanted to touch on the realism of relationships, the use of sex toys, things discussed in the bonus like whiskey dick, domestic showers together and troubles sleeping next to someone new- I really hope you guys liked this even though it’s not as classic fanfic as I usually write :) 

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “I drank too much,” Mark admits. “Hyuck kept egging me on- I’m pretty sure he wanted to get me blackout so I couldn’t fuck you tonight- But I swear- whisky dick won’t last all night,” Mark tells you. “And, I mean, you know I love using your toys so it doesn’t even matter.” He’s adorable. Of course Hyuck wouldn’t take into account that sometimes Mark is perfectly happy making you cum with your toys and not fucking you at all. Mark truly is a man built for your pleasure, and you’re not surprised that ‘whiskey dick’ hasn’t phased him.

cw/ tw. drunk!Mark, shower shenanigans, fingering, pussy eating, use of toys/g spot stimulator, Mark has ‘whiskey dick’ and can’t get hard at first, unprotected sex, praise, dirty talk, munch!Mark, creampie/fullness kink, etc…  I petnames. (hers) sunshine. (his) puppy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 starring. Mark x afab!Reader

bonus

“Puppy?” You sit up in bed, holding your phone close. Mark’s at some boys night thing, and you really hadn’t expected to hear from him, but here he is, calling you at midnight.

“Hi, Sunshine.” 

“Hi Sunshine!” Someone else screams in the background.

“Oh my god, fuck off, Hyuck!” Mark yells back. “Not you, baby, I’m talking to Hyuck.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, “I gathered that.”

You’ve also gathered that your boyfriend is drunk. You can hear it in his voice, and when he begins to hiccup, it’s even more evident.

“So uh, I wanna see you.”

“You can see me tomorrow, we have dinner plans, right?”

“No, I wanna see you tonight and tomorrow,” Mark insists. 

“You do, huh?” God, he’s adorable.

“Yes, please.”

“Don’t you want to finish boys night?” you prompt, not wanting to get in the way of his time with friends. You know Jeno would get mad about Mark spending time with his ex instead of his boys, and you don’t want to be that girlfriend who restricts her lover from his bros.

“Nah, fuck this,” Mark says. “Jeno went home with a girl, it’s just me and Hyuck and Renjun and Chenle and Jaemin and Jisung-” Sweet Jesus, he’s listing half of your work staff. “But I wanna be with you. I can call a cab and be at your place in like, fifteen minutes?”

“Whatever you want, puppy,” you grin. “I’ll be here.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.3k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

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@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas - @aaniag

✘ nct taglist

@milkyway-vxm - @nctsawrus - @shiningdery - @freezerandfame

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@sehunniepot

Thank you to those who interacted with the teaser

@nae-vm - @rum-gone-why - @kgneptun - @handinyourpants

@stolasisyourparent - @icedearlgreytea

[lucid-loves]

simon slowly falling in love with reader after hating her for a long time⁉️

Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it! ❤

Nuclear Date Night

Pairing: Ghost x 141!reader (fem!reader, weaponsengineer!reader, codename: Byte)

Word Count: 12.8k, One-Shot

CW: strong language, mention of violence, hate to love relationship, rivals, competitive, competence, realized feelings, smut, body praise, deep kissing, licking, fingering, biting, p in v

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: Ghost hates your guts. Even since you joined the team as their new weapons engineer two years ago, he’s hated you with his whole chest. With your high and mighty attitude, bewildering intellect, and unwavering confidence, he can’t stand you. You hate him too with his unreadable face, demeaning protection, and lack of grace. When an undercover mission requires the two of you to get closer, though, the both of you realize your hate for one another has turned into something else entirely. 

You ignored the icy cold glare the lieutenant kept on your figure as you explained how the new sniper-focus worked. Your comrades stared at your invention in wonderment, once again reminded just why you were part of the team. Thanks to your countless all-nighters and delicate hands, you managed to invent a focus that can attach to any sniper, calculate notches and wind speed, recommend the gun-adjust accordingly, and hit a target perfectly with over 98% accuracy. No matter the distance, no matter the weather, your focus powered with A.I. calculated assistance can kill any target. 

Everyone was impressed. Save for Ghost. 

“Aim at the target, give it a second to calculate, and then listen to the adjustment with the earpiece. After that, just adjust the aim and fire. Pretty simple stuff, really.” You demonstrated, large sniper in hand. 

The wind blew through your hair, dust coating your strands like moth to a flame. From a distance, a whipping dust devil was forming across the golden sands of the desert. It was dry, it was hot, and it was windy as hell. It was the perfect place to demonstrate your brilliance. 

When you joined the team two years ago, you knew that you had to put your heart and soul into this job in order to be taken seriously. You weren’t especially muscular or tall. As a soldier, you did train for instances of defense in case it was needed, but your true power relied on your smarts. A rather overlooked sign of an excellent soldier that often invited ridicule from the more traditional soldier. 

That’s exactly what Ghost did when he first met you. 

“You sure this shrimp can handle herself? Be one of us? She looks like she can barely lift a spoon without straining her wrist.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at the memory, muscles tensing as if you were in that moment once again. The memory of your response quickly took over. 

“Are you sure this meat-head can handle my science? He looks like he can barely use a blender without getting confused by all the buttons.”

You both left a bitter taste in each other’s mouths that day. The taste has lingered ever since, tainting nearly every interaction you had. It was a wonder how you haven’t killed each other yet. 

Setting up the sniper, you prepped for the real demonstration. While you did final adjustments to the focus, you called over your rival. “Ghost, test this for us.”

“Why do I have to be the guinea pig? I don’t need a fucking robot to focus my aim anyway.” He protested, every cold tone in his words deliberate. 

The team shifted uncomfortably, even after all this time still not used to the spats the two of you got into. Attempts to resolve the bad blood have always failed. It was easier to just let the two of you spit your fire until you ran out of fuel. 

“Alright then, tough guy, you can aim without it. Go ahead, hit the target.” You nonchalantly agreed, confident that things were going to go your way this round. Ghost noticed that easy acceptance you gave, his eyes narrowing at you as he tried to figure you out. What was your game this time?

Not one to back down, he approached the sniper and aimed it normally, your focus set to default. No robots, no artificial intelligence. Just plain-Jane markers for distance. Looking through the scope, Ghost looked for the little red flag that indicates the location of the fake target used for practice. After a while of looking at nothing but sand, he spotted the target just past the dust devil. 

He would have to account for that. You planned for this. No wonder you insisted on dragging them all out to this dry wasteland. He clenched his teeth, blood simmering as you tried to make him look like a fool in front of his team. Backing away, though, would make him lose this game. Shooting and missing would also give you the victory point. Either way, both scenarios made him look incompetent.

God, he fucking hated you. 

Suppressing a malicious smile, you antagonize him. The feeling of beating him made your heart race in excitement. “Any day now, Ghost.”

He hated the way you drew his name out like that. The way you so easily said it like it was nothing but air to you. Like bubblegum being blown and popped at your will. His name should’ve struck fear and intimidation. Instead, you chewed on it. Popped bubbles with it. 

Aiming the scope, he lined up his shot, and fired. Watching the bullet carefully, he saw it shoot forth with speed right on the dead center of the target, whip back from the dust devil, and hit sand with an explosion of grain. 

It took everything in him not to fucking leave right then and there. 

“Good shot if you planned on missing. Now, use my focus.” You continued to tease, twisting the knife further into his already wounded pride. There was little snickering coming from his men, Gaz and Soap not being able to contain themselves. They would admit that sometimes your fights were funny. It was a way to cope with the discomfort it brought. 

Silently, Ghost switched on your focus. Out of the side, a small earpiece ejected out. He took it and fitted it into his ear under the mask. Of course, you programmed the artificial instruction with your own voice. Serious, stoic, and purposeful. “Awaiting aim to calculate.”

He aimed once more at the metal target using the scope, the dust devil blowing the sand around violently to protect it at all costs. The scope projected its calculations as if he was staring at a screen. Within a few seconds, it completed its estimations. A green dot appeared way over to the left and bottom of the notches, marking the shooting point. Your voice rang in his ears. “Target confirmed. Aim and fire.”

This seemed way off. There was no way this could be right. Was he really meant to aim so far off? The green dot stayed perfectly in place as he adjusted the aim, his center notch in line with your tech’s mark. He hoped that it would miss.

He fired and watched the bullet sail through the air, ride with the dust devil like a wave, and hit the target with perfection. He became slack-jawed bewildered at the precision. The fact that it could calculate aim with even an extreme factor such as swirling winds was undoubtedly impressive. 

This was your clear victory. And he hated it. 

You relished in his fiery disdain of your genius. A small smirk played at your lips as you saw just how the rage froze his muscles. He looked like he wanted to punch something. 

“God damn, Byte! That was phenomenal!” Soap loudly praised, his eyes wide in true marvel. The others agreed, all wanted a turn to use that focus of yours like it was a new toy. Every invention that you gave them has felt like a new toy. It made those days feel like Christmas morning. You were great at your job and they couldn’t be happier to have you on the team. 

Of course, except for Ghost. Even if your engineering prowess was the best in the world. 

“Really great work, Byte! Are the blueprints all ready to copy?” Kate smiled appreciatively while tapping on her smartpad.

“All ready for production.” You simply answered, proud of the work that you had accomplished. Another one for the books. 

While the boys played with their new toy, Ghost stepped back and crossed his arms angrily. 

He hated everything about you. Your unmatched intellect, your confident plays, your arrogant personality. He hated that his team was wasting money on technology for weapons when a true soldier shouldn’t need the handicap. Real skill was earned by yourself. Not with the assistance of technology. It should be a tool, not a crutch. 

Ghost believed that people who couldn’t aim a sniper on their own and hit a target didn’t deserve to be snipers. And you just made him unworthy of being a sniper when against your tech. 

You looked up at him, taking note of how hard he threw daggers at you. You made him look stupid, and that was your goal. It felt like you had the world in your palm when you did. Someone as respectable as Ghost being bested by a brainiac was always the best. You proved that you didn’t need muscles or height or even intimidation to be better. You just needed your smarts. 

A huff of a laugh escaped you as you turned away from him, knowing that that would just make him even more angry at you. Good. 

You hated everything about him too. 

~

“What you do really is modern magic. Seriously, Byte, how does your brain come up with such things?” Gaz inquired, raising a bottle of beer to his lips. The team decided to celebrate your new invention at the usual bar. Of course, your drinks were on them as a reward. They knew that you put a lot of work into what you did. The least they could do was pay for your rum and cokes. 

You raised the cold glass to your lips, the sweet and spicy cocktail hitting your tastebuds. “The pros of being a genius. Thank you for the praise. It feels nice to be appreciated for my work around here.”

That last past was said a little louder, loud enough to make sure that Ghost could hear it on the other side of the bar. He bit his tongue and rolled his eyes at you, not willing to open himself to any more of your antagonizing today.

The victory was as sweet as the drink you were nursing. Addictive too. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of success. When you finished an invention, when you helped your team complete a mission, or when you bested Ghost, they all gave you that sweet sense of accomplishment. 

Soap slung his arm around your shoulder, nearly causing you to spill. He was already a couple drinks in. “Yeah yeah yeah, good work! But all we ever talk about is work. Been two years, Byte. Tell us what that genius does outside of work, huh?”

You shifted in your seat, becoming a little uncomfortable with the sudden questions about your personal life. They knew tidbits here and there about you. Some failed relationships, favorite songs, distaste for certain foods. But your answer to all of that was usually straight-forward. “We broke up.” “I like this song.” “I’m not going to eat that.”

Something that the team noticed early on was that you were a workaholic. You hung out with them on rare occasions, you were usually confined working in your lab while they had offices, and you usually departed events early to be in said lab. Besides minor details, they really didn’t know much about you outside of your work personality. They have been trying to pull you more out of your shell over time, but it was a slow process. 

Gaz frowned at Soap’s bluntness. “Come on, Johnny, leave her alone tonight.”

“It’s fine, Gaz.” You put your glass down roughly, the clink of the glass on polished wood sobering Soap up pretty quick. It made Gaz look away in shame. That was at least one thing they knew about you most intimately. You hated being treated like you can’t take care of yourself. When they stepped in on your behalf, answering a question that was meant for you, it made you want to hit them. You knew they only did it to protect you. That you were one of them and this is how they treated one of them, but you could never let it be. 

You didn’t need anybody to stand up for you. You will make that a point for forever if you had to. 

The air grew thick with tension as you silently scolded them for hitting one of your pet peeves. With a sigh, you caved in, wanting to restore some of that fun from before. “What do you wanna know? Anything is on the table.”

Soap’s face lit up like a match to a gas station. “Seriously?! Anything?”

You gave a little nod and braced yourself for the worse. Soap’s lack of personal boundaries was quite well known. It was coming from a place of genuine curiosity and ease, never ill-intent. It was just one of the quirks of Soap that you were still coming to terms with even after all this time. 

“Well. . . what’s your sex life like?” 

Gaz began to choke, coughing on beer stuck in his throat. Price tapped his back to help him out, his sharp gaze falling on Soap for such a personal question. Yet, he didn’t say anything. He knew that if he did, you would get angry at him. He has been pretty good about avoiding your pet peeve and he didn’t want to break his streak.

Clearing your throat, you composed yourself. You weren’t expecting such a blatant question either, despite inviting this kind of open question. It didn’t mean that you weren’t going to be honest, though. That just wasn’t the kind of person you were. You never stepped away from a challenge. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Soap grinned widely, happy to talk with you finally like you were just like one of the guys. “Body count? Preferences? All of it. I wanna know what a genius views sex as.”

Slowly, you drank the rest of your rum and coke before signaling for another one. While you hailed the bartender, you noticed that Ghost was staring intensely at you. He hated you, but even he was curious on how anyone could tolerate you enough to sleep with you. 

Once you were halfway through your second drink for some liquid courage, you began to talk about one of the most personal details of your life. “Body count of five. All men. Most were one-night stands or sex-friends.”

You liked sex. There was no question about it. At least, you were interested in it. Despite the amount of people you’ve been with, they always left you wanting more. It was always a little unsatisfying when they were finished. It always felt like there was a black hole inside of you that needed the right meal to be satisfied. 

The exact reason why was no mystery either. Unless you were masturbating alone, you never came. No matter how much time and effort went into foreplay, none of your partners have ever made you orgasm. 

Just because your sex life was active didn’t mean it was great. 

“Wow, that’s a little surprising.” Gaz admitted, finally over his coughing fit. Price shook his head, a little embarrassed to hear about his men talking about sex so freely with you. As a captain to a group of mostly boys, he has shared details with them to bring the group together. It felt a little strange to have you participate in this. Even Kate wasn’t pressured into sharing such details. 

“Our little genius gets some then! How is it? Any experience noteworthy?” Soap persisted as he ordered another round.

“Not especially? Average, I suppose.” You shrugged, answering the questions becoming much easier the more you poured rum and coke into your system. Warmth crept along your cheeks, blossomed in your ribs. You felt yourself opening up like a dormant flower. 

You ordered another drink. Soap continued to pry. “Average? What does that even mean?”

“I never came before.” You suddenly blurted out, the blending of your naturally blunt personality and alcohol turning into a pretty dangerous combination. It seemed like the rum in you was getting to your brain faster than you thought. 

This time, it was Soap’s turn to choke. Gaz was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to comfort your plight. Ghost just stared as if he was watching the news. However, his mind was thinking all sorts of things. He wanted to mock you. Say that that was what you deserved for being so arrogant about your intelligence. He felt the instinct to trash talk you to recover some of the pride he lost today. 

Yet, he couldn’t. In fact, he began to feel a foreign pity for you. If you knew that he was pitying you over something like this, you would absolutely rip him a new one. That didn’t stop his eyes from softening for just a moment, though. A moment that you noticed with those sharp eyes of yours. 

Finishing your drink, you slammed the glass on the counter, nearly shattering it. How dare Ghost look at you like some tragic whore! So what you never orgasmed from sex! You were doing just fine when it came to solo-sex escapades. You didn’t need anyone to satisfy you. You only needed yourself. “I do perfectly fine when I masturbate. Don’t get it twisted. Other people just don’t satisfy me. It’s whatever.”

In a simmering fire, you got up from your chair and left the bar for the night, leaving your teammates wondering what the hell got you so worked up all of a sudden. 

Only Ghost knew the answer to that. 

~

Arriving back on base on your motorcycle, you headed straight to your lab. It was quiet. The dead of night. Everyone else was either back home, sleeping in the barracks, or partying it up downtown. You had an apartment to go back to, but you always found yourself coming here instead. 

Settling your helmet and jacket on the coat-rack, you made yourself at home. Dim-emergency lights softly illuminated unfinished projects on tables. Pieces of wires, circuits, and bolts littered every corner of the room. The place looked small and cramped during the day, scientists and engineers squished together in a lab that was second priority compared to the more athletic-based facilities. In the night when no one was here, the place looked like a tech graveyard. Vast, dark, and cold. 

You headed towards your usual workstation, a large workshop desk that was overflowing with unfinished blueprints of inventions that haven’t panned out just yet. A lot of the struggle came from lack of funding. Some of it came from unrealistic expectations. Science was an investment, something that most military dogs failed to realize. It’s why you always pushed yourself to work constantly and prove what the proper time and resources could bring. 

You were essentially killing yourself in order to make them see the worth of your department. 

Looking through the blueprints, you settled on one that was worth revisiting. A Russian Doll bullet that would save ammunition and materials to build said ammunition. The idea was to invent a bullet that would be compatible with most firearms, shoot an outer layer of bullet without shooting out the inner layer, and repeat until the last of the bullet is gone only to be replaced by another Russian Doll bullet. 

It would effectively turn a six-shooter into a twenty-four. It would save so much ammo and save many soldiers the reload time. 

The only problem you haven’t solved yet was the instability of gunpowder. 

That’s what you decided to work on tonight. Taking a seat in your worn out swivel chair, you opened your drawers and pulled out your materials. Bringing a magnifying glass close to you, you began to disassemble a few bullets. It was always a good idea to build things by first taking things apart. 

As you worked, you heard the sound of the lab door open. It was still much too early for the morning crew to come in, so you wondered who it could’ve been. Maybe Price had come to lecture you about how you left things at the bar. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to talk to you about your temper. 

Turning around, you were surprised to meet your rival, peering over all of the electronic corpses on the tables. He didn’t come here very often. You were always here after all. He knew you were always here. He shivered, noticing just how chilly it was inside the lab. The air conditioning was running on full blast. “Feels like a meat-locker in here. How can you work like this?”

“What do you want?” You sharply retorted, nerves already on edge at his presence. The lab was supposed to be your refuge. Your paradise. And here came the snake. 

“Relax. I’m not here to fight. I just wanted to talk to you about the focus.” He treaded carefully, his own instincts waiting to fire off like they were used to when he was with you. A lightbulb in his head just went off just then. He realized just how bad the relationship between the two of you was since his first real instinct was to yell at you. Ghost knew you felt it too. 

He was supposed to be the 141’s Lieutenant. He was supposed to bring the team together for his captain. And here he has been for two years, trying to push you out. 

Ghost has never even approached you without the intention to fight or yell or demand since the first day he met you.

Christ, was there any recovery from this? Ghost took a deep breath, trying to choose his words carefully for once. “The focus is great. You did a good job.”

“Don’t fucking pity me.” You snapped, turning back to your desk and igniting sparks as you bonded metal with heat. A hurricane brewed in your chest. Did he seriously come all this way to pity you? The gaze in his eyes should have been enough. It made you leave the bar!

Ghost felt that fire rising in his throat, wanting to say something back that would hurt you. Old habits die hard. It was a tough pill to swallow. “I’m not trying to pity you. The focus is going to help a lot of soldiers. It’s going to save a lot of people.”

You paused, unsure if his words were genuine or misleading. You’ve fallen into that trap before, hearing what seemed like a compliment only for it to be backhanded. It was unfortunate that you didn’t trust a word that came out of his mouth. “Why did you look at me like that at the bar?”

He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he wished he didn’t. He didn’t really want to talk about your sex life when it was just the two of you. Especially not when the two of you haven’t even had one decent interaction with each other. Goosebumps prickled all of his skin, his teeth nearly chattering. How could you keep it so fucking cold in here?

“I felt sorry for you.” He admitted, finding himself unable to lie to you or change topics. At least from the beginning, he has always been honest with you. 

As you heard the words you loathed to hear, you put down your tools, hands becoming too shaky to handle them with all the rage storming inside you. “I-”

“I felt sorry that no one has liked you enough to satisfy you.” 

Well, that didn’t exactly sound right.

Your mouth opened in shock at his dig. His eyes widened as he heard the words coming out of his mouth, realizing that it sounded completely fucking wrong. He held his hands up in defense, scrambling to explain himself before it was too late. 

The hurricane was in full swing, though. But instead of bringing thunder, it only brought rain. The corners of your eyes prickled with tears before streaming down your flushed cheeks. A lump choked in your throat choked the air out of you. You thought you could say something hurtful back. You always did before. But this time, his words cut a little too deep.

None of your relationships have lasted long. Not even with people you agreed to just be sex-friends with. They always ended up leaving. Whenever you asked what went wrong, they always blamed it on your demeanor. Your personality was too particular. Your interests were too complex. Your high expectations were too much. 

It was one of the reasons you kept a distance from the 141. They loved your company as far as you knew. But only in small doses. Who knew what would happen if they really spent time with you? They would probably get sick of you over time too. Ghost hated you since day one after all. 

No one liked you. You thought that you were fine with that at this point, but clearly you weren’t.

Ghost stood frozen in time, completely taken aback by your sudden tears. He expected screaming. He expected hitting. He expected icy retorts. That’s all he has ever known you as. He never in a million years expected tears. 

It made him feel like he was the biggest piece of shit on the planet. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know what to do about it. 

All of his years of hatred for you melted away as he watched you crumble, your distrust for him putting up more walls between the two of you. Jesus, how does he fix this now?!

“Byte, I-”

“Don’t you think I already know that no one likes me? You think you’re the first person to hate my guts?!” You spat, some of the lightning finally coming out. The tears kept coming, but it was somehow better for Ghost. He felt more used to that dangerous spark you had. It made you easier to approach now. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. Poor choice of words. Honest. I just meant that. . . I . . . Everyone deserves to be loved enough to the point of satisfaction. You work hard and give us countless advancements to use. You deserved to be satisfied. You deserve to have someone that will put the work into you too.” He finally managed to find the right words, nearly running out of breath with all the effort he had to find them. He was never really good at heart-to-hearts. 

You looked at him in shock once more as he attempted to salvage the hurt he caused you. This was beyond confusing for you. Your brain that worked so hard everyday, that could think up a million things at any given time, was at a loss for words. 

In your uncertainty, you followed your instincts. And that was to turn back around to your desk, wipe your eyes, and get back to work. It was the only constant in your life that you could rely on. The best way to think. 

Ghost didn’t blame you for returning to work. He probably wouldn’t know what to say either if it was him. Instead of pushing it any further, he decided that it was probably best to leave. Before he headed out of the lab, he turned back and looked at you. 

You did the same, the moment of work gracing your senses. In the end, he did try to pay you a genuine compliment. You were always the type to reciprocate fairly. “Thanks, Ghost.”

There was a certain way you said your thanks that made Ghost’s heart skip a beat. A sense of gentleness that he’s never heard from you before. The way your eyes shone bright from leftover tears had him stunned. Were your eyes always that pretty?

He turned quickly and left, the back of his neck heating from the intrusive thought he just had. As he walked back to the barracks, he sighed. The air outside was much warmer than the environment of your lab. So much easier to breathe. It felt suffocating being in there. Out here, he could let his mind relax.

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking of you. 

~

The two of you didn’t fight as much anymore. Sharp words slipped out every now and then, but neither of you kept feeding the fire once they were said. Most of the time, you two were just back to avoiding each other. Though, the both of you had your own reasons. 

You found yourself just at a loss of words when he was civil. It was that distrust that still lingered that made it hard for you to interact with him. It was especially difficult to be around him when he was actively being polite. Praises for your work, helping you carry heavy boxes across base, or prioritizing processing your submitted paperwork was always done either curtly or in silence. It was foreign to you.

And the energy you saved now that it wasn’t spent on fighting was now put to use by noticing him a little more. You always couldn’t help but stop and stare as he helped carry equipment with you from the lab to the armory. The way his biceps flexed with ease at the heavier load. The way his eyes remained stoic even as he embraced your inventions. Ghost was now more on your mind than ever, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. 

Ghost, on the other hand, was now always thinking about you. He felt the urge to get closer to you. To get to know you better. To help you out in a way that didn’t look down on you like he’s always done. He couldn’t stop thinking about your eyes too. How bright they were under the sun or moon. How they watched him under such careful supervision, trying to decipher if his good will was real or not. 

Even in moments where he didn’t want to think about you, he found his mind wandering anyway. Ever since that night in the lab, he felt his feelings change. Two years of anger and resentment for you have nearly melted all away only to be replaced by something else. And he didn’t know how to explain it. 

All he could do was try to keep cool. Remain civil. Avoid too close of interactions with you. 

It was working for the both of you for months until you were assigned to a mission together.

The team had noticed that the both of you were getting along in the loosest sense of the term. They wondered what caused such a shift, but they never asked out of fear of resetting the apparent progress. Instead, Price tried to push more progress by assigning the both of you to work an undercover mission. 

A wealthy investor of nuclear weaponry was suddenly pouring a lot more money than usual into a country with a rising dictator. The investments coincided with less threatening ideas such as climate change prevention and DNA study in order to balance out interest. The goal was to detain this investor, question him about his relationship with this dictator, and then hopefully stop a dangerous man from getting his hands on advanced nuclear power. 

The way in was at a formal event promoted by the science community. Conservationists, biologists, engineers, and more were going to be present to try to win over some other wealthy investors that would be there including celebrities, CEOs, and politicians. It was a high brow event which made the need for scientific knowledge apparent. 

And who knew more about such science than you?

Intimidation invitations in hand, Ghost waited in a hotel lobby, a crisp, black tuxedo hugging his form as if tailored to him. The skull balaclava was swapped with a simple black face mask, covering enough of his identity which made him feel better about all of this. Looking at a nearby mirror, he checked his blonde hair. He’s never dressed so formally in his life. 

He suddenly wondered if you would like it. 

You still need a moment to get ready, always one to check twice to make sure you had everything you need. Your heart raced in your chest, your nerves tingling with adrenaline as you prepared to see this mission through. You’ve been on the field a couple of times. Never under-cover. The fact that you would probably have to do most of the talking made you nervous. 

People didn’t like you. That weakness of yours was clouding your confidence. Being a woman in science was already a tough world. Would you be able to keep your personality in check if you faced such a conflict?

Nervously, you headed down to the lobby, adjusting every dress each step of the way down. When you spotted Ghost from a distance, you froze. You have never seen him so cleaned up before. When you were coming down, you half expected him to appear like he always has. Military uniform, skull mask, strapped with obvious weapons. 

You didn’t know that his hair was so. . . 

Finding yourself at a loss for words again, you steeled yourself. As you got closer, you realized that your heart was racing for an entirely new reason. Your lieutenant was much more attractive than you thought. 

And he was technically your date for tonight.

Ghost caught your figuring in the corner of the mirror, making him turn around. Time stood still for you once again as you appeared before him looking like someone straight out of a romance movie. Your dress hugged your curves in all the right places, every strand of hair was styled beautifully to frame your face, makeup only highlighted just how beautiful you naturally were. 

How could he never see just how beautiful you were before?

You walked closer and cleared your throat, that voice he thought was so annoying before now sounding like the sweetest violin. “Lieutenant, you look good this evening.”

This was the first compliment he’s ever received from you. It made his stomach do flips. What was happening to him? Pull it together!

“Thanks. You look great tonight. Ready?” He offered his arm, waiting for you to take it. 

Your heart could barely take it as you looped your arm around his, touching him so intimately for the first time. Heat radiated from his body. The biceps you found yourself staring at before felt solid under your touch. You looked up into his eyes, the glacier blues melting into a deep ocean. Looking away suddenly, you attempted to hide your blush. He was looking at you so intensely that it startled you.

“Do you have to stare?” You questioned a little too sharply than you intended. You braced yourself for him to say something equally sharp, something Ghost felt in your arm that was hooked around his. 

He averted his gaze, now conscious of the way his eyes naturally followed you. His mind searched for an explanation for his lack of discretion. The unexplainable pull that you had on him. Jesus, it was like he was. . . 

Oh. Oh no.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, trying to keep his feelings in check. How could he spend two years praying for your downfall to all of a sudden being-

He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t even want to entertain the likely possibility. Even if he wanted to act on his feelings, did he really deserve to after all the fighting for two years? You would probably never truly accept him after all the things he’s said and done. You weren’t completely innocent either, but Ghost had to face the fact that he was the one that started it all. Before even knowing your name, he insulted you, unable to keep his opinion on tech in weapons in check. A matter that wasn’t even your fault to begin with. 

What the hell was wrong with him back then? What the hell is even wrong with him now?

“Hey, Earth to Ghost. You okay?” You asked, noticing how he seemed to be just staring into space as they waited for the car to pick them up. There was a brightness in the night, a rain having just finished its pour. Puddles on the ground reflected the city’s lampposts, cars flashed their lights, and much to Ghost’s dismay and pleasure, your eyes shined replaced the stars. 

His voice was deep and agitated, more so upset with himself than with you. “I’m fine. Just nerves.”

At that you smirked that devilish smile that he hasn’t seen in a while. It pissed him off to no end before, but now it made his heart flutter. “Wow. The great Lieutenant Ghost has nerves. Never thought I’d hear that. Makes me feel a lot better, though.”

“And why is that?” He inquired carefully, almost afraid to hear the answer. 

You shrugged, actually starting to feel at ease for the first time in his presence. The butterflies were still there. They were just much more manageable now. “I am nervous as well.”

Before he could question you further, the designated car pulled up in front of the hotel. Gaz, parading as the chauffeur for tonight, got out of the car and held open the passenger door for the both of you to get in. Soap wanted to do this job, but Price refused. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to shut his mouth if he saw the two of you together like this. Gaz at least had a filter.

He played the role to a tee, onlookers staring as he took off his hat and bowed. “Good evening. You both look dashing tonight. Especially our lady.”

The cover was working smoothly. Together, they really looked like A-list people. The civilians would have never guessed that they were all just soldiers. Drinking in their looks, you let it replenish your confidence. You got into the car followed by Ghost, Gaz shutting the door once everyone was settled. As he drove to the venue, he went over the mission details. 

“We’ll be keeping an eye on you the entire time. We have access to all the venue’s cameras and we have mics hidden throughout the building. Some security is our own too to keep an eye on things. This place will be packed full of civilians, so violence must be kept to a minimum. Non-existent preferably. If anything does go wrong that we don’t notice, use the codeword.”

You nodded at all of the information that will keep you safe, reading the mission file to brush up on before the big show started. Ghost looked over your shoulder, also reading the file once again. Mostly though, he noticed how intensely you studied. You didn’t want to be the reason why this mission failed. You couldn’t afford that. 

When the car slowed in front of the venue, you looked out. At least a hundred people were outside, dressed to the nines, ready to spend their money or ask for money. Your blood suddenly became cold as you looked at all the people. There must have been hundreds more inside.

Gaz parked the car and stepped out, getting ready to open the door for you. However, you were a statue. Unmoving. There was panic in your eyes. You looked the part for this. Could you talk the part too?

A warm, large hand landed on your shoulder, gaining your attention. Ghost looked at you with steady eyes, his tone slow and soft as honey. “You got this, Byte. You’re probably smarter than everyone here. I’m right by your side too.”

It was relieving hearing those words come from him. He was encouraging you like he was your lieutenant. Like you were part of his team. Your heart swelled as you looked into the eyes you’ve been trying to avoid. It looked like he was finally seeing you after all this time. 

With a deep breath and a new steely expression, you nodded to Gaz through the window. He opened the door and Ghost stepped out first. You took the hand he offered you and came out, the buzz of intellectual conversation in the air. 

Gaz drove off, leaving the mission to the two of you. Ghost led the way up, your arm in his like it was always meant to be there. Miraculously, the two of you looked like the ideal date. It made getting into the venue easy as Ghost handed over the invitations to the guard at the entrance. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Riley. Have a fun night!”

The both of you couldn’t help but blush at the shared name. To be referred to as Mrs. Riley gave you ideas that you never thought you would think about. It strangely had a nice ring to it that made your senses prick up. 

Ghost thought the same thing as he guided you in. Tonight, you were Mrs. Riley, his beautiful and intelligent wife. 

The two years of hating each other seemed to feel farther away as the night stretched on. 

The marble floors were packed with esteemed guests. Large, crystal chandeliers reflected off gold jewelry and champagne glasses. A live orchestra played with precise rhythm. Everyone mingled, trying to see where the best place to put their money was. Likewise, scientists tried to advocate for their foundations. All of the talk made Ghost’s head swirl. He was used to undercover missions, however, this was truly out of his realm. 

You were better at picking up the jargon. They spoke a language you understood. The language that only the people in the lab on base understood. It was like hearing your native tongue after years of speaking foreignly. Military culture and science culture was so different, that you often missed this. 

A couple approached the two of you, led by a middle-aged woman with a large, diamond necklace and fake lilies in her hair. “Aren’t you two the most adorable couple! I must compliment you on your gown too!”

This was it. This was their test to look like a real couple out as each other’s dates. You put on a fake smile and held out your hand. “Thank you for the compliment. I’m Mrs. (Y/n) Riley. This is my husband.”

The name slid easily off your tongue, yet it sent electricity through you. There was no way you were going to get used to that name tonight. It made you feel lightheaded when you said it. How could you get so embarrassed by a fake name?

Ghost was having trouble getting used to it too, a part of him wishing that the name was real against his will. Clenching his jaw, he looked out at the crowd, trying to spot the target. His large height helped, but there were too many people around. They all crowded around each other. Talking, laughing, flaunting. A slight tug on his arm brought his attention back to you. You were just sending the lady on her way after a simple, pleasant conversation. Through that, you were able to figure out if the target has shown up yet. 

“Let’s go to the main ballroom. According to the recent intel, our target would be there if he’s shown up. Something about him not being able to resist a shrimp cocktail.” You directed, your confidence becoming stronger as you weaved through the crowd. Ghost couldn’t help but take in your courage, finding it hard to believe that you were once nervous. Then again, this was your crowd.

The ballroom floor was also filled with people, but also now with clear advertisements from scientists. Small signs indicated programs with their representatives, helping investors find the right place to put their money in. You read the signs carefully, recognizing a few of them along with who was supposed to be running it. At some of the names, you grimaced. 

“You alright?” Ghost asked, trying to keep his own expression solid as if he was playing poker. He found himself worrying about you now that you looked so pained. 

You shook your head, trying to clear unpleasant memories as best as you can. “I’m fine. I just. . . I hope I don’t run into any ex-colleagues.”

As if the devil was listening himself, you heard your name being called from afar, a surprised tone countering the determined piano filling the room. “Y/n? Is that really you?!”

Putting on your game face, you smiled and turned towards your former colleague and, unfortunately, ex-lover. Of course, this was going to happen. Almost always one thing goes wrong during a mission. A part of you wished you didn’t accept this mission now that you were face-to-face with someone you tried to leave in the past. 

“Dr. Emmanuel. It has been a long time.” You greeted politely, taking extra time to keep your tone in check. The last time you spoke to him was during the breakup. He dumped you after a quarrel about a missing blueprint. You were working on a project together when you were both interns at a scientific space-engineering facility. The blueprint was supposed to help the both of you land permanent positions, but it was made clear that there was only room for one. 

When you heard the news, you both agreed that neither of you would take credit until you talked to the head of the facility. That was, until the blueprint went missing. From there, you fought and accused him of taking the blueprint for himself to get the job. Your hunch was right when you saw the new employee ID card he hid in his wallet. 

You called him a traitor. He called you deplorable. You claimed that most of the blueprint was your design. He reasoned that if you had the job, you would neglect him anyways with your workaholic nature. He then dropped the bomb that he hated working with you, that you made him feel insecure in bed with your inability to orgasm with him, and that you were just becoming into someone he loathed with your particular personality. He accused you of not loving him enough.

So he took the credit and ran, leaving you to figure out what the hell you were going to do about a job. That’s when you decided to join the military as a weapons engineer. Some time after, you joined the 141. 

“It has been some time, hasn’t it? I’m surprised to see you here? Are you here as a scientist or an investor?” Your ex inquired, sizing you up as someone to take advantage of or as competition for investors. You knew his game and you knew it well. You only had to learn the hard way once before you learned your lesson. You never made the same mistake twice. 

Ghost noticed how your expression hardened, yet you maintained that fake, pearly smile. What was this man to you? How did you know each other? 

Why did he care so much?

“He is the investor and I am the scientist. This is my husband, Mr. Riley.” You announced, now saying the word “husband” with your full chest. Your ex’s eyes widened briefly before twisting into a smile that showed hints of disgust. 

Nonetheless, he held out his hand for a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Riley. It is an honor meeting a man that could tame such a work-driven woman.”

Before you could shoot back some venomous words that were bubbling up on your tongue, Ghost took his hand and gripped it tight with that soldier strength of his. Your ex seemed distraught as pain shot through his hand that was being crushed. Ghost didn’t let up. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t look down at my wife, doctor. I love her just the way she is. I’m sure she has accomplished much more than you as well.”

“Now, if you will excuse us, we have better things to talk about with other people.” Ghost finally let go, bruises already starting to form on the crushed hand of your ex. While you normally would pop off at him for standing up for you when you could’ve done so yourself, you were too busy thinking about his words. The L-bomb he dropped seemed to flow so naturally from him. It made you feel flustered. 

As Ghost led you away, he leaned down to whisper in your ear. He took your flustered expression as you being upset. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were upset with him or your ex-colleague. He knew he triggered your pet-peeve and he wanted to apologize. For now, though, he had to settle with a raincheck. “We’ll talk about that later. Do you see our target yet?”

You snapped back into action, being reminded that you have a mission to accomplish above all else. Looking around, you tried to spot the target. As predicted, there he was, gorging himself on shrimp and champagne. “10 o’clock.”

He looked over and confirmed. “Target spotted. Good eye. Ready?”

Taking a few deep breaths to reset your brain, you nodded. Swiftly, the both of you approach the target just as he was taking another flute from a silver tray. You changed your serious demeanor into a more graceful one. Someone worth giving money to. Someone that the target will like. “Mr. Marston. I was hoping to finally meet you tonight. I am Y/n Riley. This is my husband. You are such an inspiration to both scientists and investors.”

“Ha! A couple of fans with good taste! A pleasure to meet such a handsome couple! I’ve been in the business for a long time though, so I know you must want something. Can’t pull the wool over these eyes, even if they are old.” He laughed cheerfully as he raised more alcohol to his lips. 

It seemed that this would be easier than you thought. People like Mr. Marston made you sick. People with way too much time and money on their hands to shape the world as they saw fit, regardless of the good of the people. Nuclear war would be a disaster. And yet, this man treated it as lightly as the glass in his hand. Careless. Spilling over with each movement. Such a fragile thing away from one wrong move before shattering into a hundred pieces. 

“With age comes experience and wisdom. I am a scientist looking for an investor. Though my studies tend to be a little. . . unconventional.” You buttered him up before casting your line. All he had to do was take the bait.

And that he did. His eyebrows rose with interest at your choice of words. He felt his wallet burning a hole in his pocket. “Unconventional, you say? Well, I am all for out-of-the-box solutions to our world’s problems. Care to elaborate on your odd studies?”

You looked up at Ghost, awaiting some sort of signal that you may proceed with luring the target to where you needed him to be. He gave a single nod, disguising it as full support for his lovely wife. You were handling this much better than he expected. Or perhaps, this is how you always were under pressure. His judgment was always just too clouded with contempt to see it. 

“We would love to talk about our project, but such a thing is rather sensitive in nature. I would hate to upset some over-hearers. Perhaps we shall meet later once the formal is over?” You played cautiously, not yet reeling in such a loose bite. 

“Oh my, now you really have my interest! There are a few study spaces at this venue reserved for investors and scientist contract negotiations. I haven’t committed to any facility yet, so why don’t I start with reviewing you? What do you say?”

Hook, line, and sinker. “That would be most ideal, Mr. Marston. Just lead the way.”

Grabbing a few shrimps to go, the target led the way to a more private area of the venue. Everything was smooth, all according to plan. The crowd parted away for the richest investor here, making the exit quite swift. Once the three of you separated from the main event down to a much quieter room, Ghost detained him with cuffs. A button on his watch was pressed, signaling to the team that the target was in custody. 

“Wh-What?! What is all this now?!” Mr. Marston protested, hoping that someone would come to his rescue. 

“Lieutenant Ghost and Sargent Byte. You are being taken into military custody for involvement with nuclear investments. We just need to ask you some questions.” You explained carefully, trying to keep the target calm so you didn’t attract unwanted attention. Cool, calm, and collected. Ghost thought it was a good look on you. You weren’t normally involved like this, so he couldn’t help but think so. 

He had it worse than he thought. Seriously, what was with him?

While Ghost took his hands off the target for a moment to reach for his phone, feeling an incoming message, the target swirled around and tried to bolt. Not in the direction of an exit, though. Instead, he was running straight to you, binded fists raised to strike you. Thanks to your self-defense classes through the military, you acted on pure instinct. You dodged his fists and struck his jugular with a sharp strike of the side of your hand. He gasped for air and collapsed, tears streaming down his face as if he would die from the loss of oxygen. 

Ghost’s attraction to you increased tenfold as you nonchalantly fixed your dress like a meager wind just caused only slight agitation. He forgot just how capable you could be physically, not just intellectually.

Right on time, Price waltzed in wearing his common military uniform. He didn’t even bat an eye at the struggling target. “Transportation is outside. Well done, you two! It was about time you worked together on something. I hope to see more of this in the future!” 

You made some distance between you and Ghost, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea. For some reason, it pained Ghost to see you put up that wall again so soon after the mission. Was this the first and last time you would get along so well with him?

No, he decided. He told you that he would speak to you later about the interaction with Emmanuel. Then, he would knock your walls down. Finally get to know the real you.

From there, we can really determine if his feelings were just a fluke or not. 

~

You were back at the hotel, wiping your makeup off and stripping yourself out of the formal dress. Your muscles ache at the new freedom, having been fed up with such a fitted dress and heels. After showering and putting on some pajamas, you got into bed and began to read. You were rewarded for your work with a one-night’s stay at the luxury hotel, and you were taking full advantage of it. 

After reading, you were going to order hotel service and then go to bed. The life of luxury that was more than enough for you. As you began reading the next chapter of your book, you heard a knock at the door. Sighing, you bookmarked your page, and answered it. You were surprised to see Ghost standing there, smelling like fresh maplewood and citrus soap. A plain shirt clung to his torso and pajama pants made him look like a new man altogether. He had his black facemask on still, but once he let himself in, he took it off. 

This was the first time you have ever seen his full face uncovered. You noticed the small scar on his upper lip that matched the one on his right brow. His jaw was strong as if chiseled from marble. You couldn’t deny it. Ghost was a very attractive man.

“Sorry to barge in like this. I said we were going to talk, so here I am.” He explained, taking a seat on the edge of your king bed. He was drinking you in too. The pajama shorts that showed off your thighs, the cami that exposed your delicate shoulders. Your hair was still damp and scented with lavender and vanilla. His heart picked up speed as he felt a pull of attraction to you. 

How could he have ever hated a beautiful thing like you?

You found it a little rude that he just barged in, but you let it slide for once. From his tone, he didn’t seem like he wanted to fight. Besides, those deep blues were starting to melt your icy heart little by little. Just for tonight.

You took a seat on the bed next to him and looked up. “What is there to talk about? He’s just a man from my past.”

At that, he felt his muscles tense. He knew that there was more to the story. Ghost detected your evasion of the subject as clear as day. It was something he experienced nearly every day before this. He knew your tell. “I know it wasn’t just that. What he said, how you looked. What happened?”

Out of all people, you least expected Ghost to hound you about this. He has never been interested in your personal life before. Then again, your relationship has changed dramatically since the night in the lab. Before you knew it, you started to feel yourself open up to him a little. 

You stared down into your lap. “He’s an ex. We were interns together, he took all the credit for a project we did, he got a job, and I didn’t. He insulted me, dumped me, and then left. I left to work in the military. That’s really all there is to it.”

While your tone tried to keep it casual, Ghost knew it was really a tragedy. No wonder you didn’t trust easily. Now he wished he broke that guy’s hand when he had the chance. 

Did he really have room to talk though? He made you distrust people even more easily when he first met you. It was about time he apologized for it all. “Listen, Y/n. I’m sorry. About everything. For the two years of fighting. All the insults, all the exclusion. Everything. I should have been a better teammate, lieutenant, and even friend to you. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what to say, a new trick of his that seemed to have worked time and time again. The tick of a classic clock filled the silence as you thought about his apology. The sound of him using your real name echoed in your ears. You blamed him for everything that transpired. And now he was sorry about it. Yet, the way he looked at you didn’t indicate the need for forgiveness. He wasn’t entitled to it, and he knew that. Instead, his gaze was filled with certainty. The certainty to do much better by you from now on. 

Two years to lead up to this moment. You never thought you would live to see the day. Just like him, you slowly found your rage for him melt down to almost nothing, instead to be replaced by something soft, warm, and electric. 

You gave an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry too. I know I can be pretty unlikable.”

“You’re not unlikable.” He reassured, his hand naturally taking your cheek like he’s been doing it all his life. Ghost didn’t even realize that he did it at first. And before he knew it, he was going in for a kiss, unable to resist those pretty lips of yours for a moment longer. 

Your cheeks began to burn as he kissed you so suddenly, yet you didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. Something was pulling you deeper into him. A passion that was always there from the beginning. Hate or love, you have always been passionate about Ghost. Maybe that was why you truly hated him in the first place. 

Ghost couldn’t stop himself, deepening the kiss with each second that passed, reveling in how sweet you tasted on his lips. He’s been obsessed with you since the beginning. A fire within him had always burned for you. He just wished he realized that it was actually love much sooner. Perhaps if he did, you really would’ve been Mrs. Riley tonight. 

All the things he hated about you before were things he loved about you now. Your soft lips, your silky hair, your amazing intellect. All of the things that he could never match. You were better than him. However, he didn’t care anymore. He actually appreciated it now. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am.” He whispered as he pulled you closer, wrapping you in his embrace. You felt his firm muscles against you so much better now than before, the shirt he was wearing leaving little to the imagination with how fitted it was. 

It honestly turned you on. 

You took the initiative to reconnect your lips, your mouth opening to invite his tongue. Nerves fired off in every inch of your skin as his slick tongue met yours. Your toes curled as he felt you up, groping your thighs and waist like they would disappear any moment. His hands felt so good on you that you shivered, yearning for more. 

Things were getting out of control, but Ghost didn’t care. Tonight, he wanted you more than he has ever wanted anything from you. To appreciate all the things he was too stupid to notice before. You were sexy beyond belief. Always have been. When you were working over your desk with such a focused look, when you were gloating about your new invention, when you demonstrated a new gun so naturally in perfect stance. 

His pants tightened as his erection grew strong with each taste of your tongue. His hands roamed into your hair, gripping slightly to pull you closer. The both of you moaned when you ended up grinding against his hard cock. Once you got a taste for that, you couldn’t stop. Your hips grinded into his, sending earthquakes of pleasure through you. You could feel your panties get damper each minute as the makeout became even hotter and heavier. It wasn’t helping that it has been a while since the last time you had sex. It made you feel more sensitive than usual.

Finally, Ghost flipped you around and settled you back on the bed. He has never been so turned on in his life and you were the one doing this to him. 

There was something he needed to make clear first, though.

“I’m going to make you cum.” He promised, flashing you a determined look that had you weak. 

You blushed and averted your gaze, your voice low. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“I’ll do it. No matter how long it takes. I’m going to be the first man to make you cum tonight.” He reassured, gladly ignoring your warnings as he leaned down to kiss your lips again. As he took control of your tongue, his hands began to explore your skin under the shirt. You were unbelievably soft under his fingertips, delicate from your lack of experience on a battlefield. He now loved that about you. You didn’t need to be in the throws of battle to be part of the team. 

“You’re so soft, you know that?” He praised, deep rumbles of his voice making your brain turn into mush as it entered your ears. His kisses traveled to them, making you shiver uncontrollably as he softly bit down. 

He chuckled, a sound that was once always reserved for his male teammates unless he was making fun of you. Now, they teased you so pleasantly that your breath hitched. “Someone’s ears are sensitive. You like having them played with?”

Just as you were about to answer, he slid his hand up to touch your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you jump. “Ahh~! Ghost!”

“Call me Simon.” He demanded, yearning for the sound of his real name coming from you. It would be the first time you would call him by his real name. 

You played with it in your head, noting how foreign it felt just sitting on your tongue. Nonetheless, you gave him what he wanted. ��S-Simon. . .”

“Again.” He encouraged, suppressing a shiver that traveled down his spine. It was like getting a dose of the sweetest drug. Fireworks exploding in his chest. He loved how his name sounded on your lips. 

“Simon. . .” You sighed as he peppered kisses all over your neck. Your cami was now raised up to reveal your chest, kisses traveling further and further down to taste all of you. As much as Simon wanted to fuck you already right then and there, he had a promise to keep. He had to take it slow and let it build up. He had to make you cum first.

He took a stiff nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around before taking it between his teeth in a gentle bite. His other hand twisted your other nub between his fingers. The way he tweaked them hard sent waves of pleasure through you, all the way down to your cunt that was still soaking your panties. It felt so good to have him touch you like this. You wanted more. 

Arching your back, you took your top off completely. Simon followed suit, stripping off his shirt and trailing his kisses down your stomach. As he felt your stomach on his lips, he buried his face deep into it. To think that he could’ve had this so much sooner if he was just nice to you from the beginning. “So soft. . .”

You squirmed a little under his slow, deep kisses to your body. No one has ever taken this much time on you before. All foreplay was pretty exclusive to your breasts or cunt with your previous partners. Simon was taking the time to appreciate your whole body. It felt so intimate. “Simon. . ?”

God, he loved it when you said his name. “Y/n?”

You were starting to like the sound of your name coming from him too. A blush swept across your cheeks. “You can be a little rougher.”

He smirked, this time making you tremble in excitement rather than rage. “Is that what you like? You like it a little rough?”

“I like the firmer sensation. Nothing too crazy.” You elaborated, always one to speak your mind even in a moment like this. If you were going to have sex with Simon Riley, if he wanted to make you cum, information like this was important.

Simon hummed against your skin, his hands working to pull off your pants. The vibrations made you sigh. Once your shorts and panties were off, he settled himself between your legs. Your dripping cunt was such a pretty sight. Pink, wet, and sweet. He bit the inside of your thigh, making you gasp in pleasure. “Like that? Is this what your previous partners did to you?” 

“N-No. . .” You admitted. Your previous partners never really listened to what you liked even if you told them straight-forwardly. At least not enough to get you to tremble like Simon did. It seemed like the man you hated before was really the best so far in bed. 

“Good. Their loss.” He murmured, biting down on your thighs soon after and leaving a deep love-bite. You bit your lower lip and whimpered, the sensation sending shockwaves. Simon kept going further and further down on you, relishing each time you moaned and quivered. He wanted more. He wanted to make you scream.

His lips latched onto your swollen clit, biting it between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. He tasted your nectar on his tongue, a taste that instantly made him addicted to it. You arched your back and grabbed his hair suddenly, silky soft strands feeling nice between your fingers. 

Just like he wanted, you moaned his name over and over again. His tongue kept lathering your clit firmly and with even strokes. Fingers prodded at your opening, spreading your wetness all over you until he was able to put two of his fingers inside. God, you were tight. 

“Ahh~! Right there, Simon!” You encouraged, your ability to speak your mind unwavering. Simone found that insanely attractive as he pushed his fingers in further and curled right at that spongy spot that was driving you crazy. His teeth pulled at your folds before being soothed with his tongue. Your clit twitched as he pressed his tongue up against it once more, all the while pumping his fingers into your soaked pussy. 

Your grip on his hair got tighter as he kept pushing you to the edge. The sensation made his own cock twitch under his clothes, making him press it up against the mattress to grind into. He wished it was your pussy he was grinding into already, but you were so close. He could feel it. You could feel it. 

He didn’t stop his pace. Strong, even, and slow. You tightened around his fingers each second, feeling the wave approach closer and closer. You could already tell that this was going to be a big one. Your first orgasm with a partner ever. 

Tilting your head back, you moaned louder and louder. You begged for more and more, praying to a god that Simon wasn’t just going to leave you hanging. Now that would be pure evil. The worst thing he could ever do to you. But he didn’t. He just kept nipping, sucking, biting, and licking to the point that your head was spinning. 

Before you could warn him, your vision saw white and you screamed. Simon could feel you suck in his fingers so tight that he smiled as he still landed kisses on your clit. Your legs trembled, aching to close or kick out the electricity that coarse through you. Your cum was spilling everywhere. All over his fingers down to his wrist, coating your thighs in a sweet glaze. 

While you tried to catch your breath, Simon licked up every drop. “How was that? Everything you thought it would be?

You looked down to see his eyes ablaze with victory and a sexy smirk on his lips. You sighed and nodded. “Credit where credit is due. That was really good.”

“Good. Because you’re not done yet.” He decided, already stripping off his pajama pants to reveal his rock hard erection. He was bigger than you expected, all that shit talk for two years making you believe that he was making up for something. But he was blessed with the girth, the length, and the look that you knew would be amazing.

He positioned himself between your legs, coating his length with your slick. Shivers started again as the tip rubbed against your clit. The both of you sighed, enjoying each other’s bodies to the fullest extent.

Suddenly, Simon pushed all of his cock into you, bottoming out within a second. You gripped the sheets tight in your fist as you cried out. He stretched you out so pleasurably, so fully. You’ve never felt so full in your sex life. 

Simon hissed as you clenched around him. “Fucking hell, you’re so tight. . .”

Slowly, he began to move. Long even strokes that rubbed every inch of you and him. As he looked down at you, face twisting into such a pleasurable expression, eyes only on him, he heard his heart beat in his ears. God damn, you were gorgeous. 

Your eyes widened as he came down for a kiss, his tongue taking full control while his hips remained steady. The sudden rush of the kiss and his cock reaching deeper made you scratch at his shoulders. He was eating up all of your moans like candy. 

“F-Fuck~! Simon, wait!” You begged, the sensation getting overwhelming with each deep thrust. He could feel you getting tighter. Wetter. He knew that you were getting close to another orgasm, and he wasn’t going to stop for a second.

He sat up and pushed your legs down by your thighs, spreading you wide open and making you take all of him as deep as you can. You clawed his hands as your climax approached even faster, Simon ignoring all of your cries for him to wait. The sounds of your wet sex echoed in the room along with your sensual moans, causing you to get even more aroused. Christ, his cock was so good!

You were plunged into an orgasm, your whole body quaking as you arched and screamed it out. Simon felt your pussy wrap tightly around him, trying to take everything from him before he was ready. It was dizzying how good your insides felt coiling around him. He loved how you soaked his dick and crotch full with your hot cum. 

Simon grabbed your thighs tight, squeezing hard and clenching his teeth while he tried to stop himself from climaxing too soon. He wanted to stretch this night out for as long as he could.

While you settled down from your second orgasm, you gazed up at Simon who was struggling to keep himself together. You lifted your arms and touched his strong, muscular chest that was shimmering in sweat. You could feel how hard his heart was beating under your fingertips. You could feel him twitch hard inside you, aching to fuck you again. Your body was weak, though. You didn’t know if you could last for much longer. Every nerve in your body felt like it was melting. “Si-”

“I know. Your body won’t stop shaking. Just until I cum, yeah?” He observed, fingers tracing your trembling curves.

At the idea of Simon cumming, your body regained new energy that you didn’t know you had. You wanted to see it. Feel it. You wanted to see your lieutenant crumble from the power of your body. “Fuck me then, Simon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. His hips went into overdrive, thrusting in and out of you with ease from all of your slick. You felt him hit that wonderful spot of yours that made you see stars over and over again, your body already on the edge once again. 

Simon picked you up off the bed and turned, settling you on his lap while he laid back. He didn’t relinquish any control, however. He just wanted to grope your delicious ass while he thrusted up inside you, hitting nice and deep. With the new view and new places to touch, he was losing his mind. 

You weren’t expecting this new position, but you didn’t reject it either. In fact, it felt heavenly. He hit that g-spot at just the right angle and you loved how he manhandled your butt so roughly. You liked how his eyes never looked away from your body, drinking it all in like the finest wine. From this position, you could feel his solid cock twitch inside of you.

Struggling yourself up, limbs feeling like jelly, you fell onto his chest, your tits pressing firmly into him. That sent him over the edge, his grip on your ass making his nails dig into your skin. Once you felt that first rope of cum enter you, you came for the last time.

Hot cum mixed together, making a mess out of the both of you. His chest fell and rose with heavy breaths, groans coming out with each rope he couldn’t hold back. Your tightening pussy wasn’t helping, milking him of everything to the point where he even felt tingles travel through him. Once he was finally done, he felt exhausted. 

You were exhausted too, your lungs struggling to regulate air flow. Your heart was beating so loud that it drained all other noises. Your body felt slightly numb from it all, your head getting fuzzy with each second. Simon wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as you both calmed yourselves. 

“That was. . .” He began, losing the right words to describe just how amazing that was. He’s had his fair share of sexual encounters, but never like this. No one could quite compare to you.

“Yeah. . .” You agreed, your eyes closing as you felt the afterglow take over. You felt the covers pull up over you, Simon still holding you on top of him, not willing to let go just yet. 

He could never imagine letting you go now. 

[slayfics]

Katsuki buys you flowers.

900 words

Katsuki sighed in annoyance as you scrolled through a photo album on your phone, sitting across from him at the local cafe.

"Just delete the whole thing damn it," he stated.

"I can't, I have to look at them each one last time," you protested.

The album was a collection of all the photos taken with you and your now ex-boyfriend.

Katsuki watched bitterly as you scrolled past each photo. The way you'd zoom in and gaze at the image with wistfulness in your eyes made him sick.

"Fuck this," he exclaimed and reached over the cafe table to snatch your phone out of your hand.

"Hey!" you yelled but did little to fight Katsuki for the phone back knowing you'd lose that battle.

"Don't whine. I'm doing you a favor. You don't need to look one more second at this jackass," he said deleting the whole folder of memories. "If you keep doing that, you're going to forget why you left his sorry ass in the first place."

"I don't think that's likely. Two things can be true at once Katsuki. I can enjoy all those old memories and still feel I made the right decision to leave," you argued.

"You say that now, but I know the second he shows up with flowers begging for forgiveness your ass might feel differently," Katsuki predicted.

"That would be the first," you scoffed.

"What?" Katsuki asked gazing up from your phone.

"That would be the first. He never bought me flowers." You stated

"You're fucking joking me," Katsuki said his eyebrows scrunching together.

"Nope," you confirmed.

"All those fucking years you were together, and he couldn't have been bothered to even do that?!" Katsuki rubbed the bridge of his nose, "That's it I'm deleting his number too," He said scrolling over to your contacts on your phone.

"Katsuki!" you yelled in protest.

"Don't Katsuki me! That ass wipe doesn't deserve to take up a spot in your phone." He declared. "What the hell did he even do for you?"

"We would go out to eat all the time, at nice restaurants," you answered.

"Not good enough," Katsuki stated.

"What do you mean not good enough?" You asked.

"That idiot loved fancy shit like that, but do you? How many of those dinners were because he wanted to treat you? Probably none. Those dinners were something HE wanted to go do, not you. Fucker doesn't even know you. You'd prefer a home-cooked meal where you can be comfy in your PJs and dance to whatever dumb song you're obsessed with that week in the kitchen. Don't even try to tell me I'm wrong." Katsuki explained. 

"You're right," You agreed. "But he didn't know how to cook, and my songs aren't dumb!"

Katsuki blinked at you lost for words, a sharp exhale coming from him in utter disbelief that you spent so long with this man. "That's it, get up. We're leaving," Katsuki stated standing from the table and tossing your phone back at you.

"What? But I haven't finished my matcha," you said.

"So, we will take it to go. We're gonna stop by the grocery store, I'm gonna pick up stuff to make you a real meal, and you can show me how 'not' dumb your song pick of the week is." Katsuki decided.

You struggled to gather your things to follow him out in the hurry he was in.

Exiting the cafe Katsuki was holding the door open for you in his car,. "Such a gentlemen," you teased.

"Well, someone has to show you what that looks like," he stated, shutting the door after you got in.  

Katsuki drove you both to the nearest grocery store, "Stay here," he instructed when he parked.

"Hu? No, I'll go in with you." You said unbuckling your seatbelt.

"I said stay here. I won’t be long," he said firmly.

"Alright fine," you said waving your arms up and refusing to fight with him.

Katsuki left the car and made his way into the store. You pulled out your phone to pass the time while waiting for him.

A void grew in your stomach at realizing Katsuki had indeed erased all the whole album of pictures with your ex-boyfriend. Banishing the years you spent with him into the past. Only your memory serves you now as a reminder of the time shared together.

In a desperate attempt to salvage some memories you wanted to keep, you navigated over to your recently deleted folder. Only to see that Katsuki had deleted that too.

Photos and contact numbers were deleted from your phone, it was as though your ex never even existed. Just as your eyes began to sting with the threat of tears, the driver's door flew open.

Katsuki tossed something into your lap, “here.”

You looked down to take in the sight of a fresh bouquet in your lap. The tears that threatened to fall from sadness broke through.  Although the sadness behind them had been banished. Replaced by a fresher feeling of appreciation.

“Hah? Don’t get all teary eyed on me damn it,” Katsuki complained, tossing a few grocery bags into the back.

You watched his swift movements and couldn’t help but think, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing your ex was exiled into the past.

“I got enough to make a decent meal. You ready to go?” Katsuki asked.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you said wiping a stray tear and smiling for the first time in a long time.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialsapphire @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3 @bythevay

[lnfours]

everything | l.n

summary: he’s your best friend and you’re in love with him, but he’s not in love with you. or so you think, anyway.

warnings: fluff, a hint of angst, reader not knowing how love feels, kinda a situationship scenario but idk, also kind of hot trash?? - inspired by ceilings by lizzy mcalpine

masterlist | inbox | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

he was finally home. after months of busy schedules and being away from home, he was back. and the first thing he did? he texted you. he texted you and asked if you were busy, like he always did every time he was back in london.

you had told him no, your plans had fallen through last minute and to be honest, you missed him. you missed his laugh, the way he hugged you, the jokes the two of you shared. he was your person and you were his, it was as simple as that.

and sure, maybe he was your person for another, completely different reason. but at the end of the day, to you, he was just lando. he wasn’t ‘lando norris, formula one driver for mclaren’. he was the boy you had known since you were a teenager, the boy you cheered for on the sidelines ever since he decided he wanted to work towards his dreams.

so the two of you had made plans to go out for a drive and catch up, the tradition you held every time he came back. you’d drive around, get some take out, and head back to your apartment for a few episodes of your favorite shows or a movie he’d seen and thought you would like. he had picked you up, the mclaren running on the side of the street as you climbed in, closing the door behind you.

you smiled, leaning into his touch when he leaned over and wrapped you into a side hug from the drivers side, “hey! missed you,”

you smiled back at the brunette, his green eyes meeting yours, “missed you, too, lan.”

his eyes scanned yours before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your lips. a new tradition you two had picked up ever since that drunken night in singapore. you had went to the grand prix with max, showing support for your best friend, just like you always did. somehow, someway, the two of you had found yourselves stripping each other’s clothes off in his hotel room. nothing but the sounds of your quiet moans and his mumbled curses filling the room as you learned each other’s bodies.

and it had become a thing, every time he’d come home you’d both find yourselves in the same predicament: tangled in the sheets within the hour.

the whole ordeal was like a dream come true in the beginning, something you had been wishing for since the moment you realized that maybe you loved him more than in a platonical way. now, as you sat in the passenger seat of his car, legs tucked underneath you as the rain pattered against the roof, your food in your lap as you stared out to the city lights below you, you weren’t sure it was a good idea. you had seen the girls that practically throw himself at you, why would he choose you over them?

he noticed your silence, tilting his head towards you and placing a hand on your thigh, “you okay?”

you swallowed thickly, “mhm,”

he knew you better than that, though, “no you’re not.”

you sighed, how do you tell someone who’s not in love with you that you want something more, “‘m fine, really.”

you picked at your nails, ignoring the way your phone was buzzing against your leg. you had assumed it was your friend texting you, begging for updates between you and the boy you were sitting next to.

“you know you can tell me anything, right?”

not this. not now.

you nodded, “i know.”

he nodded back at you, “okay,”

you looked back out to the window next to you, watching the rain drip down the glass. you swallowed the lump in your throat, biting down on your lip as you felt the tears prick your eyes. you felt stupid, stupid to feel like there was ever a real chance. a real chance that he could ever love you the way you loved him.

you felt his eyes on you again, “y/n?”

you hummed, turning back to face him, which was a mistake. you felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

“what’s wrong? seriously, i don’t know if i can handle the silence for much longer.”

you chuckled softly, shaking your head, “it’s nothing, really. promise,”

“stop lying to me,” he sighed, “c’mon, i’m your best friend. you can tell me anything.”

best friend.

you sniffled softly, which made his attention shift from your eyes to the small tear falling down your cheek in the dim lighting of the street light, “i just feel so… dumb.”

he raised an eyebrow, “why do you feel, dumb?”

he absentmindedly reached out and wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head and backing away from his touch.

he looked at you confused, a hint of hurt in his eyes as he watched you cry in front of him. he was wracking his brain, trying to figure out where he went wrong. trying to understand what you meant with your words, all while trying not to make himself feel like he was the reason for your tears.

you opened the car door, the rain smacking the pavement as you stepped out, “i can’t,”

he watched as you closed the car door, stepping out into the night sky and cold rain. he sat there for a second, his brain unable to catch up to what had just happened. his brain caught up, opening his own door as he chased after you into the freezing cold rain.

“y/n!”

you didn’t want to turn around, your tears mixing with the rain on your face. he was faster than you, though, grabbing your hand and holding you back from walking away from him. he spun you back to face him, your face glowing under the street light as he noticed how broken you look.

“what’s wrong!” he yelled over the pouring rain, “please, don’t shut me out!”

you let out a quiet sob, “i can’t do this right now, lando!”

he stood in front of you, frozen, as you repeated yourself, softer now, “i can’t keep doing this to myself.”

he shook his head, “what’re you talking about?!”

“just say it!” you shouted back, “just say you don’t really want me so i can move on and forget about it and we can go back like nothing ever happened!”

“what makes you think i want that?” he asked, “y/n, why do you think i come back to london instead of monaco whenever i have a break? because i want to see you!”

“not for the same reason i want to see you!”

“you don’t know that!”

you cried softly, turning away from him as he approached you again, taking your face into his hands. your eyes met yours as he spoke again, “y/n, i come back home to you because you’re all i think about when im not with you. every little thing i do, i think about you.”

you watched as his eyes scanned yours, begging for you to speak. he spoke first, though, “you’re all i think about, every night, every day. i should’ve told you how i felt sooner instead of dragging you on, but i’m falling in love with you.”

you shook your head, backing away from his touch again, “don’t,”

“don’t what?” he asked, “tell you i’m in love with you?”

“don’t say it if you don’t mean it. please, don’t say it just to make me feel better.”

“for one second can you just stand here and actually listen to me?” he sighed, “can you let yourself understand that there’s someone who actually loves you, standing right in front of you telling you. someone who’s ready to drop everything and show you.”

he reached for your hand and pulled you closer to him again, but this time you didn’t back away. he was so close to knocking down the final wall you had put up, so close to knocking down the walls you had put up as a sense of security. to keep yourself guarded, too scared to wear your heart on your sleeve once again.

but here he was, your best friend of all people, standing here in the pouring rain and giving you the fairytale moment you had always hoped for. the boy with curly brown hair and gorgeous green eyes was everything you could’ve ever wanted. everything you dreamed about, every future map you’d come up with in your journal, it always had him in it. one way or another, the two of you were meant to be.

two souls intertwined. that was you and him.

“lando-“

“i fucking love you,” he said, “so much that it physically hurts. like my chest gets all tight, and it feels like i can’t breathe-“

“lan-“

“and that night in singapore was when i realized you were the person i wanted to be with. not the models or the girls who throw themselves at me, i want to be with you. the one who knows my favorite flavor of ice cream, the one who knows all my greatest fears and all my secrets. the one who doesn’t judge me and i can talk to about anything. it’s you. it always has been, i’ve just been to blind to see it.”

the final wall came crashing down as you said his name, “lando,”

he hummed, his heart damn near flying out of his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your face so close to his as you mumbled a soft, “kiss me.”

he didn’t give it a second thought, immediately pressing his lips to yours. you kissed him back, the rain long forgotten about as the water from his hair dripped onto your forehead. he put every ounce of longing, passion and love into the kiss, a kiss nothing like the ones you had both shared before.

he pulled away, his forehead against yours, “you don’t have to say it back, but now you know that i love you.”

you pulled him back to you by his jacket, “i love you.”

he smiled before his lips were pressed back against yours. and you stood there, kissing in the rain, and everything felt like a scene straight out of a movie. the feeling something new to you no longer felt scary, or intimidating. it felt safe and warm.

and it was all because of him.

[lady-buggerinton]

My Top Five Polin Scenes in Part One (and why!)

My darling gossipers, so far this show is making literally all of my hopeless romantic dreams for this couple come true and who knows what kind of angst and drama were in for in part two, so before things gets too real I just wanted to go into (too much) depth on my favorite scenes and a few swoon-worthy details from part one! *whips reigns on carriage* shall we?

5. Drawing Room Lesson/Journal

Pen's brain: TOUCH ALERT! HIS HAND IS ON MY BACK.

This scene is so best friend coded with the way they are bantering and flirting the whole time. There's an adorable contrast between Penelope's fear of being discovered and Colin being like it's chill!(when in fact it is not Chill because they get interrupted after 5 minutes of gazing into each others eyes)

He just clearly wanted to be completely alone and behind closed doors platonically with his very beautiful friend (who looks like an angel in this scene) to pretend they are courting. Nothing suspicious about that!

I love how he's so into the lesson to the point that he has set out the lemonade as a prop and brought her to Bridgerton house in the first place specifically because she said it was where she was most comfortable (previously, but he's doing his best, and probably hoping she will become comfortable again, ouch)

Colin being the "dashing suitor" for her to flirt with (loser) and when she's resistant to fake flirting with him he hits her with the, "you don't have to be embarrassed, you know me!" trying to put her at ease. And he succeeds! Penelope is so comfortable during this scene when she's opening up about how it's hard for her to get her personality across, it's so sweet and honest.

And this is when the ROMANCING really starts, I love how it's Penelope who takes the lead here. mostly by accident, but the poor man is still left in shambles.

I do kind of wish for this scene they had gone with a more back and forth flirting moment, and seen them both get a little taste of how overtly flirting with each other would feel rather than her little poetic moment, but it was sweet to see her expose a corner of her feelings for him and watching him get a tad flustered at the compliment.

Ok, while it was rather uncool of her to read his journal, I love this part so much. Because I am no better, I would 100 percent do this given the chance. Her examining the space where he spends time, her running her hand over his pirate coat, (who wouldn't) the quiet yearning of that action. As a snoop myself, this was wish fulfillment.

Penelope being hit with a confusing mix of jealousy and intrigue by the contents of the journal entry, the way she stops reading for just a second and then gives in and devours his writing, not being able to hold back from getting inside his head. Don't think about how she probably missed his letters.

Colin's anger here is warranted, and I liked how he didn't come across as aggro-angry Colin from the books but is still justifiably upset that his privacy has been violated. He is likely aware that there are certain DETAILS he wouldn't want her to be reading, like how he's a lonely lonely sad little man trying to be rakish and roguish because his beautiful platonic friend isn't writing him back and encouraging him like she usually does.

Can I just mention that bandaging a wound is an excellent trope and it's such a good romancing vehicle: the care, the tenderness, the touching! the GRUMPINESS! But my favorite thing about the wound bandaging is his reaction to her complimenting his work, of which he hasn't shown ANYONE. He's just so shocked that she likes it, and clearly starved for her encouragement/anyone to be interested in his travels.

I think its also worth noting that this is THE moment that Colin thinks back to when he's considering activating his chaos tendencies by rolling up to the red ball to interrupt her proposal, so I'm gonna interpret that as him recalling his first realization/admittance to himself that he has feelings for her beyond friendship.

It wouldn't surprise me since it is after this moment that we see the hints of jealousy start to manifest at the full moon ball (looking for her, asking her if she likes a suitor, he's not subtle with it). Can't blame him, he was just touched with intimacy and care, and told his creative outlet is well-written, he is being ROMANCED to the max and he can't handle it.

We also have our first "please" as Pen asks to help, and as we will see, these two can't say no to each other once the magic word is spoken! I hope this theme makes a comeback in part two (please please please)

4. Market Scene

ok, besides a semi-silly looking wig on Colin (reshoots) this scene is first of all, so beautiful.

SHE IS SO FINE IN THIS SCENE I CAN'T EVEN THINK. She looks like a preraphaelite painting and I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

I literally kept saying "wow" out loud. It actually makes the scene very silly to me because she keeps talking about how she'll never snag a husband and I'm over here on one knee begging for a chance.

If Penelope has been Colin's cheerleader and #1 supporter for their whole friendship, this is where that flips. This scene is all about Pen feeling dejected about her prospects and Colin trying to lift her spirits -basically by saying she doesn't need to work on anything because he already likes her so much without her doing anything but I digress!

There is nothing hotter than your crush talking about a shared memory! Literally nothing! You can see her absolutely light up here when he talks about their first meeting like "I can't believe he remembered" and "Shit, I'm trying to not be in love" and it makes me ache for her.

I am very sad we didn't get a meet cute flashback (hello romcom!!) but this was the next best thing. He's also definitely still in Rake Mode with the way he is being charming and flirty, but there is a core of genuine feeling here as he is trying to get her find her confidence and be more like the non-self conscious children they once were. I believe a lot of the rift between them was directly because she had such strong feelings for him and couldn't just connect with him as friends due to the pedestal she put him on, this scene shows that without that as a barrier, they are able to connect much more naturally.

"Living for the estimation of others is a trap, once you break free the world opens up," he says, and he's starting to realize this idea but hasn't quite put it into practice. I think seeing Penelope struggling to be something she's not, just like he is, shows him how it's not working for either of them. This I think kickstarts his self-reflection and eventual rejection of external pressures later on, leaving him open to pursue other passions.

Ok but what I LOVE most in this scene is his subtle digging for information about her that she isn't forthcoming with. He asks her why she wants a husband and where she feels most comfortable, peppering her with questions and also giving her zero personal space. He's very curious about her and what is going on inside, but she's not exactly open with him at this point, giving short and simple answers.

She's genuinely not used to someone asking her this many questions about herself, receiving this kind of devoted attention, and she clearly doesn't know quite how to respond. In fact, the dynamic has always been reversed, where she was encouraging and inquiring about him, so this switch is just excellent. there have been little moments throughout the series where he asks about her and she always seems to deflect to talking more about him, so it's nice to see this shift.

Also fun detail, the grecian statues behind them are a little nod to the eros and psyche vibes of the scene as cupid is trying to find a match for his psyche, but is slowly beginning to fall for her, his curiosity the first step towards total downfall.

When he asks about Eloise is where Pen just completely shuts down and says she has to leave, and the "before we are noticed" with the little smile? I have fallen in love. She's clearly using that as an excuse to dodge the question, and it is almost an inside joke, sadly. As if she's saying "No one would believe you are courting me anyway haha". And yet he's clearly bummed she's leaving, he was having such a good time, and she leaves him hanging, wanting to know more. I also absolutely love the Rae side eye, lethal!

3. Candy Tent

Post-kiss insanity is on full display here. The way she beckons him with a sexy head tilt and he came running, the way his hands give away his nervousness and his eyes keep locking on her helplessly. Just FULL ON crush mode. The soft "How are you?" he missed her!

Also outfits are incredible here, the pearls in the hair, the painted vest, Colin inventing the color brown, it's a rococo dream. The plushy pink of the tent, the ambiance, everything is just in a word: sumptuous? never used that but it feels right here.

Pen's giddiness here is just adorable, she's experiencing blatant interest for the first time and I couldn't be happier for her. But someone else is very peeved, indeed. He's trying to play the part of supportive friend while also just kind of feeling a lot of "confounding feelings"

The way he is trying to be so casual and attempting to keep up his swagger, but his true feelings are showing through BAD kind of harkens back to how Pen would interact with Colin in s1 and 2, with barely contained affection and hope. The script has been FLIPPED and it feels so good!!

I literally squeal every time he asks her if she's formed an attachment to Debling, this is the shit I signed up for!! Her saying Debling is not "unpleasant to gaze upon" and watching Colin just completely glitch out with jealousy. He's like AND WHAT ABOUT ME! Must be frustrating to be the most eligible bachelor of the season, and yet your very beautiful crush friend is complementing another man on his looks. When your crush expresses interest in someone it can be truly insanity inducing, so I feel for him here.

Pen is oblivious completely, she doesn't think any of what she is saying is negatively affecting him, in fact she thinks this news will make him happy! His lessons worked, she didn't care about being perceived and it is having the desired affect! and yet, he's miserable. Mission accomplished unsuccessfully if you will.

He does ALMOST a good job of hiding his feelings, but if Pen were not completely convinced he couldn't have feelings for her, I think she would've picked up on the vibes here. He's way less enthusiastic about the lessons, and is giving fairly curt responses, when before he was yapping on about being yourself and such.

Then of course the blatant staring at her mouth, being the yearning sort of man he is and likely recalling their kiss in detail, reminder it's been at least a week since. She's romancing him without even trying. It also makes sense for "food motivated" Colin to have Penelope + cake equals critical override of his facial expressions and his literally standing there slack-jawed with lust.

His soft "good luck", when she leaves and the fact that he doesn't mean it AT ALL.

I've seen it talked about, but it makes a lot of sense that Penelope wasn't as affected by the kiss as he was. I'm sure she enjoyed it, but for her the kiss was an end (more on that later) and for him it was the moment he admitted his feelings (which were already growing slowly). so it makes sense the yearning is very colin-sided in this scene.

Apart from the yearning, it's also just sweet to see them in cahoots and discussing this development with Debling like its a little group project, and its the perfect scene to show Down Bad Colin, and I love it. She also clearly wants him to share with her in her success, still wanting to be close to him in any way she can, which if I think about too much I'll cry.

Bonus points for him eating the cake later on, such an intimate detail, he just wants to be close to her in any way he can. CRIMINAL! ARREST HIM!

2. First kiss/Dream Sequence

Ok I'm combining these scenes because they happen back to back and sort of like a mirror of each other, sue me. This first kiss scene is, as Whistledown says, RECKLESS. It's nonsensical, it's desperate, and it's beautiful.

This scene has only improved upon rewatches, it really has everything. Best kiss scene on Bridgerton and possibly in anything ever? no doubt no doubt?

The silly back and forth on the "You're not going to die" and the way she doesn't back down when he seems to get embarrassed, but instead says what? The Magic Word! "Please" she says, which of course is both of their activation word. His expressions here definitely mirror the book, where as soon as she asks him to kiss her, he's a bit taken aback by how much he realizes he wants to already.

This is such a low moment for Penelope, and it's one parts embarrassing and two parts brave of her to ask him to kiss her. In her position, she doesn't even have her pride left, so why not ask the boy you love to kiss you? nothing will come of it anyway, and he probably won't even do it, so why not ask? And what are friends for!

then the moment comes, and the music swells, as does the tension as he closes the distance between them, her shocked face and shallow breaths as she realizes its actually going to happen, the way he lifts her face to his with his hand under her chin. It's just pure romance. and this thing between them, this space that has never been crossed, is being crossed, and it feels insane. reckless. intimate!!

What I love is the shot that focuses on his face after they deepen the kiss, he's intent and confused by how good this feels, how little like kindness this is for him as soon as their lips touch. Like we will see later, he just kind of mind-blanks and forgets what is happening.

Whatever he thought they were has just crumbled with this kiss, and he leans his forehead against hers, no awkwardness when there is such tenderness. which is why he's so shook when she whispers "thank you", and rushes off. he's like "wait why is she thanking me? where am I? weren't we doing something here?" The hopeful strings as it focuses on his dumbstruck face, the earth literally shifting under his feet in that moment. UNREAL.

THE DREAM: I won't say a lot about the dream sequence but I just had to throw it in here because it shows how aligned they are romantically. They are both HUGE romantics, and he has orchestrated this sort of do-over kiss where he's really going for it and proving to her that he wants this too, he wants her. And she's enjoying herself, clearly, which we know is something Colin wants more than anything. It's a great way to show his inner feelings with the lack of an inner monologue that a book brings. And this is clearly a sort of parody of Bridgerton itself, or at least the books. It's over the top, a little silly, and exactly what we all want to see.

This dream also isn't just ripping off clothes, it's emotional, a key element is him expressing how he's been thinking about her, consumed by her. This kiss also isn't as innocent and patient as the first kiss, and it's full of Reciprocation, she can't stop thinking about him either. AND NEITHER CAN I!!!

Both of these kiss scenes also set up our contrasting feelings, where Pen views their first kiss as an end of a dream, a bittersweet act to finally let go off him, the dream of him. And then his dream shows the opposite, how she's ignited something in him that begins his dream of her, awake and asleep. Dream-swap! Also the hand on the wall behind her to catch her from hitting the wall. no comment.

1. Carriage Scene

Yeah like what can I say! It's incredible! I honestly have no idea how they can top this scene, but honestly if this is the best love scene they share in the season I am 10000% content. All of my little qualms with how they did the season melt away when I watch this scene because this was what was crucial to nail and they NAILED IT. TO THE WALL BABY. YAY.

And how did he gain access to the carriage (and Penelope)?? by saying please!! we love the magic word!! I do like the confession a lot, especially the "what if I did have feelings for you?" and the way he gets to his KNEES, a truly inspired moment.

How he completely dies inside when she says they are friends, and still accepts it with grace. There were SO many obstacles to him expressing his feelings to her this night, and he just red rovered each one, and we are all very grateful.

Something about this scene is just built different, I like a lot of the love scenes in the show, but this one has some kind of secret ingredient that we didn't know we'd been missing. Maybe its the location, the context, the way they are just grasping at each other desperately (which if you think about how Penelope thought this was a one time thing in the books and she wanted to make the most of it, actually don't think about that)

He's also just so sweet about it, he's not angry, or insistent, he's just honest and intent. and she's just bewildered and INTO IT.

The lightning is gorgeous, the way it looks like Penelope is catching on fire and glowing. the catharsis, the giving into passion. The way she smiles like her dreams are coming true (because they are) before he just completely attacks her. What else can I say but EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

so many of the kisses are so tender and gentle, and they just build and build and build in intensity as they get lost in each other.

on a more horny note, so many moments here actually make me physically roll my eyes back in my head with how insane they make me. The desperate boob grab, the consensual nod, the way his hand slips under her dress, they were truly so insane for this. something tells me they knew I've waited literal years for this, so they knew they had to make it good.

Someone said Nicola should get an Emmy nom for moans, and she should, somehow they don't come across as cartoonish at all, and it doesn't take me out of the scene like some "noise making" does in these types of scenes. and for the record I'm not jealous at all, of either of them. in fact, no sooner did my head hit the pillow that I was met with complete and total darkness....not even a dream....

Like everything I could say has already been said, but it was so much better than I thought it was going to be, blew my expectations out of the water and DELIVERED. and DEVOURED. and RUINED ME. AND I AM VERY GRATEFUL.

Anyway that's all, I'm very afraid for part two so I needed some escapism, why am I already nostalgic for the good ol' times when Polin was happy for 6 minutes. thanks for reading! <3

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #46

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 19.4k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

Closing one of the boxes with a tape, you look around what used to be your living room and technically still is, but the remainder that it soon won't be is too real and big. Packing some of your things that Jungkook will later take to his place makes you doubt your decision. Only because you already feel bad at the thought of taking up his space no matter how many times he has told you it's not true. More like has scolded you with that prominent frown of his. You just can't help it.

All of this feels weird.

You will have to leave a bunch of your furniture behind, well to sell it to be completely exact which kind of makes you sad to be doing. There isn't space where you could store your couch, television and other stuff Jungkook already has in his apartment. He has helped you with everything, from searching for possible buyers and putting all your stuff on the internet that needs to be sold. You had done that together during sad evenings of you sulking next to Jungkook.

"You've made the right decision,"

You get startled at Jimin's soft voice next to you, completely forgetting for a second that he's been holding the box for you so you could tape it. He sets it on top of another box as he gives you an encouraging smile, hand squeezing your shoulder.

"Stop doubting everything, you've stayed at his place so many times, it's your second home at this point." Jimin jokes, causing you to glare at him but a playful grin cracks on your lips as you silently agree with him. You also appreciate how he tries to put you at ease, sensing your doubting.

All of you have stayed at Jungkook's home so many times that it doesn't feel like a foreign place. But still, it's Jungkook's home.

"I know, I just... it feels weird to move in there." you admit quietly, feeling bad for even saying it out loud because somehow, it makes you sad for Jungkook.

He's here sacrificing his space and privacy for you, just so he can help you. You know it's more than that but it doesn't feel right to have thoughts like these, constantly doubting this whole situation as Jimin has called it.

"You've always been bad with changes," Jimin offers simply, squeezing your shoulder for the last time before he lets go.

He's right, you realize as soon as he says it. You don't like changes, at least not big ones like this and especially in your little fucked up situation.

"I think that's why you feel dubious about this and that's completely fine. But you know Jungkook, and I think his place is the most comfortable place you could be living in."

Again, Jimin is more than right. Out of all the options you had, Jungkook's place feels like the most comfortable and safe option for you. Not that living with your other two friends wouldn't. There are just more cons of living with one of them. For example, Jimin's place is smaller and you already feel bad for taking up most of Jungkook's current space once you move in with him. Taehyung's wild life full of bringing strangers to his home isn't the most pleasant place to be living in, and you can't expect him to change things because of you. Not that you'd want him to.

Another thing that scares you though, something you haven't said out loud and definitely aren't planning to tell Jimin, is the fact you're going to be so close to Jungkook now. You'll be under the same roof which makes a little intrigued excitement spark inside of you.

"Yeah, I know," you murmur, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful."

"You don't," Jimin smiles and assures you, "You just sound like our Y/N."

That makes you chuckle, your conversation soon interrupted by manly chuckles as Taehyung and Jungkook walk out of your kitchen shoving each other as you roll your eyes at their usual and childish behavior. They said they came to help but so far, it looks like they came to help to empty your pantry. Taehyung holding one of your snacks says it all as they finally join you.

"Why that serious face?" Taehyung asks as soon as he spots you, wiggling his brows as he shamelessly takes a bite of the snack, silently challenging you to tell him something. But before you can tell him off, playfully of course because yes, you're slightly annoyed but not to the point you'd have to get angry because it's just a stupid snack, Jimin beats you to it.

"Ah, our friend here is getting all guilty and dubious." Jimin says mischievously, ignoring the grin you send him as you already hear Jungkook sighing as he plops on your couch, arm stretching and resting on the couch's top.

"Why?" Taehyung almost whines, "Girl, just enjoy the huge bathtub. I'd kill to have one in my place. And Jungkook is like the cleanest guy I know, he even does his own laundry and he actually likes it!"

That makes you laugh as Jungkook grins but rolls his eyes at Taehyung complimenting his laundry skills. He says it as if it's super unusual for men to do this kind of stuff.

"No, you're just saying that because you're a pig." Jimin jumps into the conversation, both you and Jungkook laughing at Taehyung's open mouth and the well-known glare he shoots at his friend.

The two of them start to bicker, something you're not in the mood to listen again and thanks to Jungkook you don't have to, because as soon as you plop onto the spot next to him, his arm stretched behind you, you're slightly intoxicated by the smell of him which is one of your biggest weaknesses when it comes to him. The guy is wearing sweatpants and a shirt and you're already drooling. And that's enough to zone out the bickering of those two for a moment but there's something else Jungkook wants to say.

"You're bruising my ego with all that doubting shit," he says lightly, grinning at you as you realize how close you're sitting next to him.

You can see his skin so clearly, he's so close that it would only take two seconds to lean in for you to kiss him, two seconds to eye the silver jewelry decorating his brow that you still can't get used to. Everytime you see it, it's like a slap to your face that reminds you how hot, more hot, your best friend is getting. Not that you thought it's even possible.

He's joking but still voicing the elephant in the room which causes more guilt to come to the surface as your features soften. "That's not it, Kook. I made my decision and I'm fine with it, I just--you know me. I'm grateful you're letting me stay at your place. I really am."

"Really?" Jungkook asks, smirking as he raises his brow at you. For a moment you look at him expectantly and confusingly, until he leans towards you to get close to your ear. "How grateful?"

Glancing at him, you look straight away to feel his hot breath on the side of your face again as you bite into your lower lip, eyes flickering to Jimin and Taehyung who are fooling around while laughing. You're too distracted to tell them to put down those pillows before they break something.

"Very grateful." you mutter to Jungkook, sounding almost sheepishly as excitement and shyness shakes in your chest.

"Hm, you can show me later then," he proposes, voice husky and low which makes you instantly gulp, trying to hide how much his words affect you.

It's the first time Jungkook has hinted at something like that since that incredible morning at his place with your legs stretched for his mouth. You've been thinking about that a lot, you're not going to lie and you've no idea what comes over Jungkook to act like this again, but you love it and you're here for it. You feel that flame of lust and excitement that you've felt with him in June and then months after, during the deal you had.

Finding his eyes, you find them mischievously looking into yours and you have to brace yourself not to get too distracted. "Maybe I will." you tell him silently, lips curving in a satisfied smirk when he grins at you – not in the typical cute bunny way, but in the way you're ten seconds from sitting on his lap.

"Yah, what are you two whispering about?" Taehyung suddenly yells, giving a last smack to Jimin's head with your pillow and then cackles when Jimin tells him to fuck off.

"Just how dumb the two of you are." Jungkook reacts, tongue in his cheek teasingly as Taehyung gasps.

"Yo, don't forget you're the younger one."

"Yeah, and I seriously doubt that sometimes." he murmurs, eyes flickering to yours as you giggle.

But before Taehyung can complain about the younger's attitude, the ringing of Jungkook's phone resounds and he picks it up, informing the food delivery is here seconds after. After another minute of bickering, Jimin drags Taehyung with him since there is a lot of food and you're sure some part of him has done it to get back at Taehyung. Eventually, they go down to pick up the food while you tell them you'll pack a few more boxes until they come back, which shouldn't take long.

Jungkook offers to help, the whole purpose of him being here actually, and he follows you to your bedroom. There is a lot of stuff you've to pack and even though you don't have to move out in a month or more, you've to arrange things you'll throw away, sell or take with you. Which reminds you that the person who is buying your couch, is supposed to come in two days and take it with them. More things won't be here in a few days and technically, it won't be a proper living space. The most important things such as your bed or stool in the kitchen where you can sit down and have your meal are still here. You're taking your bed with you, although you're not sure how Jungkook will make space in his office for it.

But – he's too determined to make it work and who are you to oppose.

That's why you've decided to spend the first night at Jungkook's apartment because it'll make things easier. You still have to clean this place after some of the furniture and things are done. It's not dirty because you cleaned it every day but still, there must be dust and dirt behind the furniture. After talking to your friends, they all said you should focus on making this apartment to its needed state and sleeping at Jungkook's place (slash living) would make things easier. And you've to agree.

Still, it's happening too soon but somehow, you're okay with it because it makes sense.

There are already a few boxes in your bedroom, most of them seasonal clothes that you don't need in this current weather which are thick and warm jackets or summer dresses. Packing your make-up is the first task you settle upon, knowing it shouldn't take too long and Taehyung and Jimin will be here any minute.

Jungkook continues with the process he was doing before disappearing in the kitchen with Taehyung, so you don't worry about him as you hear him rustle behind you. Too occupied in your thoughts and a task, you don't notice the sudden silence, and Jungkook's steps aimed towards you are just an empty sound at the back of your mind. That's until he settles a box in front of you, a box you haven't seen in a while but know very much.

You want to abruptly turn around and scold him for bringing this out right now, but he presses himself onto you so that it's almost impossible.

"What do we have here?" he muses teasingly, causing you to scoff. "Haven't seen this one in a while."

And then you watch his tattooed hand slowly opening the box as you're met with a sight of the only sex toy you own, and that is very much thanks to the man standing behind you.

"What? You wanted to borrow it?" you murmur dryly, hearing him chuckle but that is before he delivers a light spank to the side of your ass that makes you yelp.

Completely unexpected and surprised by his reaction, you can't help but feel warmness in the pit of your stomach as your toes curl, especially with Jungkook's close proximity.

"Don't get smart on me." he warns, causing you to bite your lower lip as you try to let out a careless scoff.

"Close it before the guys see it." you tell him, breath hitching when he wraps his arm around your waist and starts caressing your stomach which sets alive the thousand of butterflies in your body. Fuck, you hate him for knowing how to touch you. Even the slightest touch makes your body on fire.

"What, they already know you owe one, don't you remember?" he hums, playing into the game as his hand inches lower and plays with the hem of your sweatpants.

"Yeah, thanks to you," you point out dryly again, giggling when Jungkook suddenly presses his lips into your neck and gently bites you there. "They were too drunk, they probably don't remember." You voice your thoughts hearing Jungkook hum as the tip of his fingers get under the hem, meeting the fabric of your panties.

"Trying to calm down your worries by telling yourself that?" he teases, chuckling into your neck as you arch your back, meeting his hard chest as soon as his fingers get under the hem of your panties as well. Fuck, what is he doing?

"Fuck you," you let out shakily.

"I will, soon," he promises, causing you to whine as his fingers get close to your heat but not quite enough to be touching you there just yet. "This okay?" he assures, causing your heart to swell as you nod too quickly.

And that's all he needs before he lowers his hand and cups you inside your underwear, two fingers parting your lower lips as you suddenly gasp, leaning onto Jungkook whose body holds you in place. Head thrown back, you grab his hand that moved to your hip while the other one is busy being buried in your panties, you squeeze his warm and soft skin.

"You're not throwing it away, right? That would be rude, it was quite expensive,"

His voice is full of mischief and he gives you no time to respond, fingers finding your clit as he circles around the sensitive bud causing you to gasp, his name dying on your tongue as he hums.

"We could have fun with it, like the good old days..."

He's teasing you, you hear the smirk in his voice and you can feel his lips stretching against the skin of the temple where his mouth lays.

"Shut up," you choke up, knowing you should end this before the guys can find you here like this. There would be a lot of explaining to do and you're not quite ready for interrogation from them.

"What, liking it too much?"

"Fuck," you gasp when his fingers glide easily and circling your entrance, thanks to the wetness that Jungkook caused with his mouth. Maybe just a few more minutes won't hurt...

But the universe isn't on your side because just as the tip of Jungkook's finger is about to enter you, your mouth falling open with knees close to buckling, the sound of your door being open is like a glass shattering on the floor. Jungkook sighs, pulling out his hand out of your panties as you turn around, face completely flushed and heated, just in time to see him putting his middle finger in his mouth.

His lips wrap around his long finger deliciously, it lasts just a second as he tastes you with your open left ajar with rushed breaths. "Too bad baby, the fun has ended." And apparently, so have you.

You're almost falling apart, the pet name that probably fell out of his mouth without much thinking has caused your whole pussy to throb, begging to feel his fingers again. And he is so fucking hot, he surely knows it because he gives you a pleased smirk, raising his brow at you.

"We are here!" Taehyung yells, too close to you to be yelling like this but it's the only warning that wakes you out of your daze, your hands automatically moving to close the box that Jungkook has so kindly opened.

Just in time Taehyung barges in the room, his brown and attentive eyes falling on your figure and he finds you odd, especially the way you're staring at him. On another hand, Jungkook looks completely fine and walks to Taehyung as if nothing happened. "Come on, let's eat."

"Yeah," Taehyung says, eyeing you as Jungkook brushes past him. "You good?"

"Yeah, yeah," you answer too quickly, touching your cheeks as you shake your head and give him a nervous chuckle.

Whatever it is, Taehyung decides to ignore it because you've been acting weird these days and it has a lot to do with the whole moving change and process, so he doesn't really blame you. He follows you, the four of you washing your hands before you eat the delicious food that is already prepared in your living room thanks to Jimin.

As you and Jungkook wash your hands, you can't help but give him a glance while you're reminded what has just happened – but Jungkook cocks his brow at you cockily and all you can do is shake your head at him, splashing him with tiny droplets on your fingers in his face.

The two of you join your friends with stupid grins on your faces – them being completely unaware of the exchange.

There's a bit of a helpless feeling that cuts in your chest thanks to your stuff that's currently taking up a lot of space in Jungkook's office. After feeding yourselves and dividing boxes to your and Jungkook's car, all of you have moved to his apartment to properly celebrate – as Taehyung has called it but he's just looking for an excuse to drink and eat free food. Not that you mind, they have helped you a lot today and it's nice to hang out again without all the club setting that you've slowly grown tired of.

Sprawled on Jungkook's couch, you bring cans of coke to each of them as they murmur a poor excuse of "thank you", completely immersed in trying to choose a good movie.

"Jungkook, don't forget about Friday," you tell him as you join them on the couch, squeezed between Jungkook and Taehyung causing the older one to grumble annoyingly at you, pointing at the huge space of Jungkook's couch. "This is the best spot," you argue at Taehyung, shoving your elbow in his stomach as he swats your arm away.

"What's Friday anyway?" Taehyung asks, scooting a little to have some space so you're not glued to his side with an unappreciative frown, frowning even more when you provocatively grin at him.

"Ah, my boss invited Jungkook to one of our celebration parties. Don't ask me, completely unnecessary but our participation is somehow required. Shortly said, we got this amazing deal with another model agency in China which of course, means more money for the company and my boss thinks it's great to celebrate it. He also invited some partners and possible future partners,"

"So, he wants to basically impress them and maybe snatch a few new deals." Jimin says which you automatically nod to.

"Okay, but why is Jungkook invited? Can't you bring me instead?" Taehyung whines, causing you to snort as Jimin does the same thing.

"What would you possibly do there?"

"Ah, excuse me?" Taehyung scoffs, "If it means free food and alcohol, I'm always down to attend any unnecessary celebrations."

Jungkook chuckles next to you, eyes still fully attached to the screen while trying to find a movie all of you will be okay with – the hardest task of tonight. Jimin and you join, laughing at Taehyung as he grins but you all know he's not bluffing.

Shaking head, you open your mouth. "Jungkook actually took some pictures for the company a few months ago and Junho was very pleased with them. He asked me on Tuesday if I could perhaps tell Jungkook that he's invited, he knows he's my friend so I think he purposely asked me, so there's a bigger chance he'd go or something."

It is actually strange of Junho but at the same time you're not surprised. It's pretty rare of him to show any kind of praise to his employees and people working under him, but he's been completely swooned by Jungkook's talent which to be honest, you're not shocked since you know him and his work. Everyone has been very pleased with the outcome of Jungkook's great photography skills.

You were even more surprised to be stopped by Junho in the hallway, he doesn't speak to you if it's not necessary, and he actually acted like a nice human being for once. You're not stupid and delusional, of course it was because he wanted something from you and that something is Jungkook's presence at the party. Still, the looks of some of your co-workers they exchanged are still fresh in your memory and you wonder if there are already any rumors going around. If yes, Yoongi would be the first one to kindly remind you of them.

"Ah, yeah, I remember you guys mentioned he did something for your company." Taehyung recalls, causing you to nod along his words.

"Yeah, I think Junho just wants to impress the partners and is using Jungkook for it, I don't know," you shrug, "And you," you nudge Jungkook in the shoulder but he only hums in return with his mouth open as he stares at the screen.

So you reach for his longer hair, tugging onto them as he scolds you with a frown. "Look at me when I'm talking to you," you scold him back, hearing Jimin and Taehyung snicker next to you. "You don't have to go, I'll just tell him you're busy or something."

"Nah, it's fine. I told you I'll go." he tells you, turning his eyes back to the screen causing you to roll your eyes at him in annoyance.

"No, I'm serious. Don't feel like you've to go with me because I complained to you that I don't want to go."

"Why would you not wanna go, Y/N?" Taehyung whines, "You're such a party pooper. Hello, get all the free booze and food, maybe you'll fancy some of the new partners, I bet they're all rich guys."

"Yes, rich guys in their fifties," you roll your eyes at Taehyung, "It's not like I don't wanna go--"

"You specifically said you don't want to socialize with your co-workers and bunch of strangers, you also hate to be on your own at these kinds of things," Jungkook remarks, causing you to glare at him as the two of your other friends start to laugh.

You shrink in embarrassment. Okay, maybe you've said the socializing part but it's true. It's not like you don't like your co-workers or something, but there are many people working in the company and you're really not in the mood to stand in the heels and act all posh when you could be laying home, well Jungkook's home, and eating and looking like a pig with no effort needed.

"Plus, I don't have any plans anyway and it kinda sounds fun." Jungkook shrugs.

He's always been a little bit more outgoing than you, he likes to occupy himself and be busy no matter what that means. He's usually very productive and for exchange, he actually doesn't mind meeting new people and mingling around. But you get it, it actually could bring a good job opportunity for him – even though he doesn't need it, because he's mostly booked for every day and if not, he's busy editing all the photos he had taken.

"Okay, well, you're invited so it's up to you," you end it with that, hearing Jungkook hum before he triumphantly yells at finding a good movie which startles you, but as always your glare gets ignored as everyone gets comfortable.

Reaching for the blanket abandoned next to Jungkook, you cover yourself and lean your head against Taehyung's shoulder. Finally as the first scene starts to play, everyone keeps silent but not until you and Taehyung start to bicker because of the blanket. In the end, Taehyung wins and you're forced to share it with him, both of you shushed by annoyed Jimin and Jungkook.

Sometime in the middle of the movie, a bottle of wine is opened and you slowly sip on it throughout it, finding an amazing comfort in the form of Taehyung's shoulders and Jungkook's lap where your legs lay. Sheepishly, you've urged Jungkook to massage your feet which he refused but your constant and very persistent look convinced him.

Everything feels cozy, causing you to get slightly drowsy especially once the lights are off and the only light illuminates from the screen. Surely, the wine in your system has something to do with your tiredness and slight tipsiness you realize at your usual tipsy behavior.

However, Jimin and Taehyung don't look any different as they finally stretch themselves once the credits roll and Jungkook turns the lights on. He offers them to stay over but they both refuse, both of them having plans in the morning apparently. So you both walk them to the front door, bidding goodbye and not avoiding Taehyung's teasing.

"Look at them, they look like a married couple, shoving us out."

Jimin snickers and you roll your eyes at the obvious tipsy Taehyung who gives you a boxy grin and very tight hug that makes you slap his back.

"You could've stayed, you dumbass," you tell Taehyung, moving to Jimin as you hug him.

"Don't listen to him, he's just babbling nonsense as usual." Jimin says, both of you laughing before they walk out of Jungkook's apartment and go to their awaiting cub in front of the building.

It feels very odd – knowing you're staying here and it's not the usual type of sleepover or necessary staying over like usual. But still, you find comfort in Jungkook's place of knowing it for so long so it doesn't feel uncomfortable or anything close to it.

You're in the kitchen washing the used glasses when Jungkook comes into the kitchen, throwing empty packages to the bin that were left on the coffee table.

"I'd clean it tomorrow, don't worry about it." he tells you, standing next to you as he leans against the counter, watching you washing the last glass.

"Come on, it's nothing," you tell him with a chuckle, turning off the water as Jungkook already grabs the kitchen cloth and wipes all the glasses.

You mimic his previous pose, leaning yourself while Jungkook takes care of the washed dishes and both of you fall into a casual conversation that turns into a giggle fit thanks to your tipsiness. Jungkook looks tipsy as well, although not as giggly like you but his face is slightly flushed and his eyes have that spark, the kind of spark he has whenever he drinks.

Once everything is taken care of, Jungkook scurries to take a shower since you so kindly let him take it first. Informing him you've to take out some of your needed stuff anyway, you hear the door being closed. Deeply in thoughts and in the middle of pulling out your cosmetic bag, you gasp at the spilled make-up in it and your hands being covered in the foundation that had to be closed, not good enough. Groaning, you grow annoyed at yourself for letting such a mistake happen especially when the brand isn't as cheap as you'd like it to be. It's everywhere, almost spilling onto the floor but you quickly wipe it off into your (thankfully) old shirt.

In the midst of your tipsy annoyance, you naturally walk towards the bathroom, ready to have an explanation ready for Jungkook and your sudden appearance in the bathroom. Clumsily, you somehow manage to open the door with your elbow without getting anything dirty.

"Sorry, sorry, I spilled some of my foundation and it's everywhere," you automatically call out to Jungkook, noticing he's already in shower and one peek at his naked backside, you quickly move towards the sink.

"Suit yourself," Jungkook calls out amusingly, causing you to glance across your shoulder to find him in the same position with a smirk on his lips.

Turning around, your face gets hot and it's definitely not from the slowly creating steam of the warm water, you rub your hands clean with a good amount of soap. Once your hands are clean, you groan at your shirt still being messed up. Taking another peek at Jungkook, you see he is turned with his back to you, the glass of the shower getting foggy not allowing you any other peek. Biting your lower lip, you giggle to yourself as something comes over to you (and you blame the wine) before you carefully take off the shirt and the rest of your homewear clothes.

Jungkook is completely clueless, head leaned back as in his tipsy mind he's trying to sober up thanks to the water in his face. So clueless that he doesn't notice you sneaking behind him, until he hears the shower door being pushed open which causes his head to tilt forward and open his eyes, glancing across his shoulder to find you there.

And fuck, you really are there. Standing with a sheepish grin, breasts completely bare for his eyes with the rest of your body and it takes everything for him not to eye you like a prey. For now, he settles on being confused at your sudden presence.

"Wanting to save up some water?" he jokes, eyes staying on your face respectfully as you inch towards him closer, hand holding his hip as you brush against him and reach for his scented shower gel.

"Uhm, you know, since I'm paying half of the rent now." you joke back, knowing you're nowhere paying half of the actual rent because Jungkook wouldn't allow it. Since this apartment is his and he's paying the mortgage monthly, you settled on paying the same amount you've paid for your old apartment.

It's the only solution the both of you agreed to, so you're fine with it. You have to be.

Squirting some of his shower gel into your palm, Jungkook offers to put it back into its place as you hand it to him and start washing yourself. And god, he is so distracted by you groping your breasts gently as you wash them, nipples perked up the whole time.

And then your eyes flicker to him, finding him watching you while the water drips down his buffed chest and abs, giving him a mere smirk before your hands are on your stomach. You're such a minx, Jungkook thinks because there is no way you've no idea what you're doing. You're so bold and turn into another version of you whenever the slightest amount of alcohol is involved and he is here for it. You're temptation, one that is so close to him and so freaking tempting.

So he plays the game, hands washing his own body and brushing against his firm abs, enjoying how you're watching him attentively, letting your eyes drop to his length. Even in its flaccid state, you can't help but feel your mouth water, up from his trail of hair and the soft patch of pubic hair to his complimenting length between his legs. He looks like a god, with water dripping down his body and hair slicked back, and you fight the urge to give him any more clue how much you want him. Not with your eyes though.

Turning around, you feel his eyes on your backside and as you look across your shoulder for perhaps the tenth time for the past few minutes, you find him already eyeing your ass. The way he looks at you sparks so much fire inside of you, it compliments you and instead of getting insecure about your body, you feel like the most confident woman on earth. Maybe it's the horniness and a little bit of alcohol as well, but you just know Jungkook has it in his eyes.

"Can you wash my back? I can't reach it," you ask him sweetly, both of you knowing it's such a lie and just your attempt of making him suffer even more.

"Of course you can't," Jungkook hums, amusement more than clear in his voice and if you turned around, you'd see it's on his face as well. But he takes the bait, accepting your attempt of making him touch you with open arms because not even two seconds later, you feel his hands on your back.

And he is so close, hand around your waist that tugs you closer to him and towards the stream of the water. At first, his hands are on your shoulders, massaging your tensed muscles as you sigh in content, enjoying how his hands feel like. Jungkook is sneaky, nowhere staying on your back and shoulders only because soon enough, he's cupping your breasts and squeezing them in his big palms, thumbs brushing over your nipples.

Gasping, you lean against him and your own hand shoots behind you, somehow meeting Jungkook's backside as you squeeze the soft but perky flesh. His hands are everywhere, moving down your stomach and even to your sides where it tickles which causes you to giggle, but it only lasts shortly because it's soon exchanged with a loud gasp of Jungkook's name.

The man behind you cups your sex, rubbing his fingers and finding it sleek between your thighs as he hums behind you. Your fingernails dig into the flesh of his asscheek, hips rolling into his hand shamelessly.

"Please," you beg, shamelessly again, "Jungkook."

"You want my fingers?" he asks with a soft but husky hum, lips against your temple as you nod eagerly.

"Yes, please, anything." Your breathless plea resounds between the shower walls, urging Jungkook to make a move with you giving him all the consent he needs.

Fuck, you swear you see starts once he finally slips one of his long fingers inside your cunt, taming your undying need for him just a little bit. He feels how tight and warm you are inside, almost forgetting how it feels and with each slow drag he makes with his finger, you let out a soft moan. Soon enough, you're beginning for more, wanting to be stretched out more because it is just not enough. And your pleas are enough for Jungkook to listen to you, adding another finger as he fingers you while the water keeps dripping down your heated bodies.

Your own hands sneaking between them, cupping his hardening cock, feeling another pinch of pleasure from just a single touch of his manhood.

"Washing, huh? Was this your plan all along?" he asks, suddenly hand cupping your jaw, turning your head towards him as you're met with his dark and hooded eyes causing your insides to shake with excitement, lust and another wave of pleasure.

"Not really, but it works." you breathe out, eyes falling onto his lips and he does the same.

The non-verbal plea unsaid between you two before your lips meet in a rushed and heated kiss, teeth clacking and tongues shamelessly in each other's mouth. Even after months of not touching you, Jungkook seems to know your body even better than yourself, in the midst of your making out he adds a third finger that makes you gasp, giving him a great opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth once again. He pumps his fingers, feeling your walls clench around him while your own hand starts pumping his length. The two of you pleasuring each other, until you have to pull away for an oxygen and you take that opportunity to touch Jungkook's chest and slightly push him to gain his attention.

"Take me to bed, Jungkook,"

You both know what that means and there could be many words exchanged, although he turns off the water and the two of you rush out of the shower. Jungkook hands you the towel, drying himself off messily the same way you do before you're already on your tiptoes kissing him. Arms wrapped around your waist, he backs you into the counter as he kisses you back, your whimpers heard between the kisses as his hands eagerly grab your ass.

Moving on, you're startled once Jungkook suddenly grabs you by your thighs and picks you up as if you weigh nothing, a soft yelp leaving your lips before his mouth is back on yours. Arms around his neck, he walks into his bedroom with you in his hold, lips messily kissing each other as he tries not to bump into anything on his way there. Naked, skin pressed against skin, you feel the slight cold whoosh of air hitting your bodies but Jungkook's warmth and fire flowing inside you make it almost unnoticeable.

The first moment as your back softly and slowly hits the mattress, you pry your eyes open and watch Jungkook hovering over you, seconds away from joining you as he holds himself up and starts kissing down your neck. His experienced and soft mouth leaves wet trails of kisses all over your chest, smooching your warm and in some places still damp skin. As soon as his mouth rounds around your nipple, you know you're done for and Jungkook proves it right because as soon as he sucks on your sensitive bud, his name leaves your mouth like an anthem. While Jungkook busies himself with your breasts, moving to another in a minute to give it proper attention and devoted time, your hands are all over his massive and strong back.

Whenever your fingernails put a slight pressure on his skin, you feel him groan against your breasts and hand sneaking between your thighs to rub you again. It's like whatever you do to make him good, Jungkook makes sure he does twice the amount to make you feel good. Head in the clouds, the pleas of having his fingers inside of you are almost unnoticed by you and you swear you're ready to confess the biggest love to him because he actually listens to you, and a second later his two fingers slide into you again. Surely, you're in a pure ecstasy that is so intertwined with lust and pleasure, you'd tell him anything. You've never craved for any man touch like you crave for Jungkook and you know it's because he knows you and your body exceptionally well.

Sure, in the middle of what is actually happening right now, you're aware that the man who is currently fingering you and sucking your breasts, is your best friend. And all the man you had sex with, a proper sex with, were your boyfriends and it does feel different. To have a sex with someone you're not in relationship with and weirdly enough, you don't care about none of it and maybe you feel even bigger excitement and lust. You're letting lust control you and you can't bring yourself to care. It feels too good.

Jungkook is too good.

And with him cherishing your body and giving you an incredible amount of pleasure, none of it matters at the moment and you don't even think about it.

"Ah, shit, yeah, right there." you moan out breathlessly, eyes thrown back when Jungkook's fingers brush against that good spot.

He curls his fingers inside you, body still hovering over you as you force yourself to look at him and enjoy the view in front of you. Bottom lip between his teeth and eyes focused on his hand, you almost burst, surrendering yourself to the pleasure. Grabbing Jungkook's shoulders, you squeeze them and give them a little tug to catch his attention and with a soft call (or more like a moan) you get it, his eyes flickering to yours.

"I want you, fuck me Jungkook."

Jungkook swears his dick twitches at your innocent tone but such a dirty request at the same time. Still, he searches your face and brows slightly pinched together in a slight uncertainty.

"Are you sure?" he asks, fingers sliding out of you causing you to clench around nothing and almost whimper in disappointment.

"Do I seem unsure?" you answer sassily, showing your mere annoyance which causes him to chuckle as he suddenly straightens himself.

Shamelessly ranking down his chest and stopping at his hard dick, you bite your lip and cock your head forward to usher him. He chuckles amusingly before he reaches towards his nightstand and just that already makes you too greedy and excited.

The sight of a foil package in Jungkook's hands, you're brought back to all those times you've had that opportunity to see this exact view, and you're too close to bring your own hand between your thighs but you know you'd never done such a good job like Jungkook. He rips it open, pulling out the condom as you watch him through the entire process of putting it on and down his thick hardened length.

You feel more wetness gush from you, most likely staining Jungkook's fresh sheets and it reminds you how messy sex actually is. He gives himself a few testing tugs, eyes focused on his own hand and cock before they flicker to yours. He knocks the breath off you. His hair wet from the shower falling into his eyes, causing him to bring the other hand to brush his fingers through his raven black hair to push it back. Abs and muscles flexing with each movement he makes, while his dark lusted eyes stare right back at you.

"How do you want it?"

Ignoring the way your pussy clenches at those words, you stretch yourself slightly causing Jungkook's eyes to fall down your body for a moment.

"However you want me," you breathe out, "Just fuck me."

"On your knees, ass up," Jungkook commands right away, excitement shooting through your entire body as you catch the happy shriek that wants to get out.

Turning on your stomach, you barely get on your knees as you feel Jungkook's arm under you, wrapped around your stomach as he hoists you up, other hand pressing against your back and adding a slight pressure. It causes your forehead to press against the soft sheets and mattress, ass perched up for Jungkook's eyes to see.

His hand and fingers are back on your pussy, rubbing it slowly and spreading more wetness. "So swollen," he murmurs behind you, causing you to clench embarrassingly as a soft chuckle resounds behind you.

"You want me to stretch you more?" he asks, still entering you with three fingers while expecting your answer.

And he gets it, at first in the form of a shake of your head. "No, fuck me, please."

"You sure?" he asks, tone turning dubious for a second.

Despite your neediness, he still adds a fourth finger that makes you groan at the stretch, voice muffled thanks to the mattress. "Yeah, sure." you gasp, causing him to laugh a little behind you.

"I don't know, babe," he teases you, "Are you sure you can take me?"

Even in your current state, you can't help but scoff at him. "I've had sex after and before you, Jeon."

With one movement, his fingers are gone and before you can whine, the impact of his hand against the ass cuts you off and you gasp at the sudden slap.

"Don't get smart on me," he scoffs back, "As much as I wanna fuck you, I don't wanna hurt you."

You turn around your head slightly, enough to catch a slight glimpse of Jungkook's face. "Just go slow, it should be fine."

"As you wish," Jungkook mumbles, giving your ass a decent slap.

The tip of his cock grazes over your pussy, poking your clit causing you to whimper needily Jungkook's name. The first second when his tip slowly enters you, your mouth falls open and you swear you're ready to cum right here and there. But Jungkook decides to tease you, or at least that's what you think, when he enters you and pulls out before another inch can make it inside.

"Jungkook," you pout, moving your ass towards Jungkook but all you're met is another slap to your right asscheek.

"Be patient," He has the audacity to scold you and understandably, your annoyance starts to come to the surface. "You haven't been properly fucked, have you?"

"What?" you breathe out, heart picking up its pace because he has hit the nail in the head with this one. And you've no idea what gave it away, maybe he just deduces it by the obvious neediness you're exposing right now.

"Come on, just look at you," he chuckles amusingly, tip entering you again as he pushes his length into you.

Gasping, you grip the sheets and hold them tightly in your hands, feeling your hole stretch around him and the pressure isn't the most comfortable feeling, but you're more than eager to take him. However, Jungkook doesn't push in fully and if you could turn around, you'd see his cock is barely inside you.

"You're so needy, like a little slut," he says huskily, suddenly leaning towards you that you feel his chest brush against your back before his mouth hovers over your cheek. You realize he's checking for your reaction and you're automatically remembered the only and the first time he has called you that. Slut.

He made sure you were okay with that the morning after and the simple thought of that makes your heart swell at his thoughtfulness. And again, being degraded isn't your thing because you're proud and want to appear self-confident. It's the exact opposite of what being degraded feels like. But somehow, weirdly enough, the fact that Jungkook says it the way he does and in the middle of sex, you don't mind how degrading that is. You love it because it's safe to say, you're slut only for him.

"Yes, for you," you whisper, gasping when Jungkook enters you with another inch, your mouth falling open right away at the sensual feeling of being stretched.

"Not for anyone else?" he hums, your mind somewhere else to be fully grasping what he's asking you but somehow you manage, nodding right away.

"No," you choke out, wanting to feel no one else but Jungkook.

He pulls out, not fully just enough to let his tip in as he starts sliding back in, this time even deeper than before.

"Good," he whispers into your ear, straightening as he grabs your hips and starts pushing all of him in. "You good? It doesn't hurt?" he asks, voice slightly strained as he fights off the urge to thrust into you.

"No, just go slow." you tell him, not hearing any response from him but if you could see him, you'd notice him giving a soft nod as he obeys and tries to go slowly.

He's careful with each inch, your soft gasps lead him to continue until he's fully buried inside you. Your walls are burning, not used to the sudden stretch because it's been a while. Having sex and even more than a while having Jungkook inside you. And you can't believe this is finally happening, excitement and eagerness coming right back as you wiggle your ass, silently telling Jungkook to move and he does. He listens to you and his own body, thrusting in and out slowly and carefully.

Thanks to your wetness, you're lubricated enough to take him and find it just as enjoyable as he does. His hands grip you even tighter, hips moving faster when you beg him to and even though you're not screaming your lungs out, your soft moans and whimpers and occasional Jungkook's name being moaned out, it coaxes Jungkook to move faster and deeper. He's so hard inside you, hitting your spot deliciously.

The evident sounds skin on skin echoes in your ears and around Jungkook's bedroom and he takes no mercy on you, fucking you just like you plea him to in your ecstatic state. He feels good, too good to be true and you feel yourself clenching around him even more tightly, almost whining that you're already ready to cum.

You can't hold it back any further, cursing loudly as the tight knot in your stomach frees and you're cumming around him.

"Fuck," Jungkook curses behind you, feeling you clenching around him repeatedly – therefore getting even more tighter to the point it's getting harder for him to move. "Fuck baby, you gotta relax,"

And you do because if one thing can relax you and get you all feral during sex, it's being called baby by him.

"You okay with--"

"Keep going," you cut him off, Jungkook momentarily pausing as he grabs your ass and pushes your asscheeks apart, getting a good view of your pussy swallowing him.

And it's enough for him to listen to you all over again, ramming his hips into you causing his balls to hit your swollen clit which makes your head spin and gives another wave of pleasure to your tired body that is still recovering from your first orgasm.

"You're gonna give me another one, huh?" Jungkook asks through clenched teeth, fingers digging into your hips so tightly that they might bruise later but the extra added pain adds just the right amount to your already existing pleasure and to the tingle between your legs.

"Kook," That's all you manage to say, not being able to properly give him an answer because your already swollen and sensitive heat is close to the second orgasm.

"Shit," Jungkook curses, head tilted back and eyes screwed shut because as soon as he feels your second orgasm, he feels his balls tightening and he knows he's just seconds from cumming too.

You're groaning and so is he, in his own little and silent way, and once your own body aches from the position and two mind-blowing orgasms, you're whimpering from overstimulation because you're not sure if you can take another, in this case, third orgasm.

"I know, I know," Jungkook grunts, right before a growl makes its way out of his mouth and he's finally cumming, chasing his own high.

He fills up the condom, thrusts slowing down until they halt. Your rushed and loud breaths can be heard in the room, echoing through the walls as Jungkook slowly pats your ass before slowly pulling out. You cringe at the feeling but miss him inside you right away, the empty feeling making you pout. But as soon as Jungkook's cock is out of you, your whole body fails you and you fall onto your back, met with the ceiling.

"Fuck," you tell for the hundreth time today, hand on your forehead as you're trying to catch a breath.

Jungkook grins, slowly backing away as he disposes himself off the condom, carefully trying not to spill anything out. You're so spaced out that you barely acknowledge him leaving the room for a moment, grabbing one of his used towels as he cleans himself before he joins you.

"Well, we didn't take long," he chuckles, "to have sex, I mean."

You almost jump when you feel a cloth being pressed against your swollen sex, Jungkook's sparkly dark eyes watching you amusingly as he cleans you.

"That was the best sex I had in a while," you comment, still blunt and mind completely blown by the orgasm, no orgasms, that Jungkook has gifted you with.

"Thanks,"

Looking at Jungkook, you find him grinning, body lazily and exhaustedly falling next to you as you just as lazily slap him on the chest.

"You're so cocky," you comment, biting onto your lower lip and still drowning in your post-orgasm state. Hell, your thighs ache so much already and you're sure your back is starting to hurt too, but it was definitely worth it.

"Uhm," he hums, not disagreeing with you as he suddenly throws his arm around you and cuddles into your chest. He pecks your breasts which causes you to squeal and laugh at the same time, his hair tickling you on your neck.

"And clingy too apparently."

The little slap he gives to your breast almost knocks the breath out of you, your mouth shut completely. It's not too hard to the point it hurts, in fact you've barely felt it but enough to acknowledge and understand his response to you.

"You wore me out, woman," Jungkook chuckles, closing his eyes and you lay there for a moment, bodies still hot to feel cold. And surprisingly, it's very warm in Jungkook's bedroom which stinks of sex and it only reminds you that the two of you smell of it as well.

However, both lazy and practically unable to move, you don't even mind that you're just laying there completely naked. Plus, Jungkook's body next to you warms you well enough for now.

"You should go pee," he mumbles sleepily all of a sudden, reminding you as you whine childishly causing him to chuckle. He lays there for a moment before he suddenly plops onto his elbows and gives you a stern look. "Come on, don't be lazy now."

"You wore me out, man," you joke, the two of you laughing as Jungkook tries to hoist you up while you childishly protest.

"We should probably take another shower," he reminds you, which causes you to whine even more but you know he's right. You don't necessarily stink of sweat but the scent of sex and the wetness between your thighs isn't something you want to go to bed with – to sleep of course.

"Fine," you grumble, "Can I sleep in this bed though?" you pout cutely and how could Jungkook resist. Plus, it's not like he wasn't planning to offer you his bed.

"Sure, I'll take the couch." he says, standing up as he walks up to his dresser and pulls out some fresh clothes which he drapes over his shoulder, still fully naked when he gives you a stern look.

"You don't have to do that," you tell him, stretching some more before you force yourself to stand up. "We can just share the bed, I mean you, we just had a sex, so... and besides, we usually share the bed."

"Yeah, but you're living here now... so I wasn't sure if that wouldn't be crossing--"

"It's not, I'm cool with it," you assure him, "Are you?"

"Yeah, I am," he assures you back and you shrug effortlessly at him to prove the point, brushing past him but not before he slaps your ass again.

Glaring at him but deep down loving it, you're met with a mischievous bunny grin as you make your way to the bathroom, warning Jungkook to let you pee in peace because that man is capable of anything.

"You sneaked in while I was taking a shower!" he calls after you, an amused tone vibrating in his voice as you giggle.

"That's different!" you call back, finally shutting the door.

"Different how?!"

You don't answer, although the only thing Jungkook can hear are your giggles which causes him to shake his head at you while a soft smile makes it on his lips.

Thursday comes fast, despite the extra hours you had to spend at work, and living with Jungkook for almost a week seems to pass even faster. It does feel weird from time to time but at the same time, you've grown used to the routine and the feeling of having a roommate.

The morning after you had sex, Jungkook left you a note and actually prepared a breakfast for you which was covered with a cloche. He really put a number on you, letting you deal with proper muscle pain but despite that, the two of you worked completely fine and things haven't been weird.

Living with Jungkook is different from the times where you used to just sleepover at his place, whatever the reason was behind it. And that's because Jungkook's week is even busier than yours. He barely wakes up at the same time like you do, by the time your alarm starts blasting in your ears, Jungkook's side of the bed is cold and he's already out. He comes home late, exhausted but still finds the time to go to the local gym to have his work-out, whining like a baby when he misses one day.

Still, there are nights when you catch a movie together until one of you falls asleep, and wakes up the other before you both scurry to the bedroom. At least, your bed is in Jungkook's office at the moment, the second room he uses to work on his photos or play games on a computer. However, the bed is disassembled and no matter how many times you've told Jungkook you'll just call someone to put it together, he insists he'll do it. But with his busy schedule, the pieces of wood are leaned against the wall with a few boxes of yours in the office.

Seriously, you've no idea how he'll make it work but you lost the interest to argue with him again. Or more like bicker. Jungkook is stubborn and persistent, so are you, but you're happy to even have a place to sleep at so you usually just wave him off which he seems to like.

It's very rare for you to be just quiet and not argue back, so he feels like he has the upper hand.

Overall, you realize you've been stressing out over this whole living thing together. So far, it's not bad at all (not that you thought it'll be bad), it was more about your guilt which to be honest you still have. Jungkook's office is soon going to be turned into your room slash his remaining office. Sometimes he works on his computer late at night, sometimes until early morning and there it is, that feeling of guilt of taking up all of his space.

Kook: when are you coming home? I'm not sure if I should cook something for dinner or order

Your phone chirps with a new notification, a message from Jungkook as you sit in your car.

"Idk, I'm actually going out with Maya... she texted me during the day, she wants to celebrate their engagement"

You wait for his reply which comes a minute after. He has to be home early. Surprisingly, when you were waking up for work today Jungkook was still in bed soundlessly asleep. So you've made yourself breakfast and left something for him too, since whoever wakes up first usually makes breakfast for both of you. It's not something you've discussed purposely, it was just a pure want to reciprocate his kindness of relieving you of having to spend extra minutes making yourself breakfast. Plus, you think it's his way of making sure you will eat proper food in the morning, knowing your ways of barely putting anything in your stomach in the early hours.

"But whatever you decide make sure you leave me some leftovers ;)" "I'm not sure if we'll eat something while we're out, I think she just wants to drink to celebrate"

When the last time you and Maya hung out, the time when she announced her engagement to you, she was talking about some kind of massive celebration in a club which to be honest, you weren't a complete fan of because you have enough of those with Taehyung. However, you weren't about to decline her since she seemed to be excited about it and she just got engaged. Plus, she's your friend, a new friend at that, so you just went with it.

But you're both busy with work and it's hard to align your schedules. She actually wanted to meet during the weekend but since there's a party at your work on Friday, you're not sure how many other parties you'll be able to do. You'd really like to spend the weekend at home, Jungkook's home, preferably cuddling to a blanket on his soft and huge couch and using the advantage of his massive television screen – and all the technical things the man has because he clearly loves it and owns some of the best stuff.

You should be enjoying it, right? Since you're paying the rent.

You almost laugh at your thoughts, staring at the bubbles that appear on the screen, letting you know Jungkook is typing a response.

Kook: sure, have fun ;) just don't get too drunk

"It's Thursday, you seriously think I'm gonna get drunk during the week? >.&lt;"

Kook: anything is possible when it comes to you

"I'm gonna think of it as a compliment"

Kook: not what I had in mind but sure, suit yourself

"I can't even drink alcohol because I'm driving, I think we'll just toast with champagne and stick to non alcoholic drinks for the rest of the night"

Surely not what Maya had in mind at first, but what can you do. You've got to work with what you have.

Kook: oh that's right

Kook: btw, thanks for the breakfast ;)

"returning the favor ;P" "I'll text you when I'm coming back, gotta drive now"

Kook: okay, drive safely

You stop yourself from texting that one thing you'd usually do, biting into the inside of your cheek as you open the streaming app instead and turn on some music. Heart slightly cracking, you quickly drive out of the parking lot before you can feel bad and sad all over again.

Jungkook is doing okay, you tell yourself and focus on the driving instead.

"How's living with Jungkook?"

Maya doesn't waste her time, dropping the question she has been curious about ever since you ordered the mentioned glass of champagne. Giving her a knowing look, you set the glass down after taking a decent sip.

"Good?" you tell her unsurely, "I can't complain, Jungkook is great."

"Uhm, I'm sure he is," she giggles, met with your raised brow and pursed lips. "Namjoon told me apparently you've been indecisive about living with him at first." she says more calmly, finally stopping to give you a look that seems as if she knew something you don't know. She's just teasing when it comes to Jungkook, definitely not the first person to do that.

"And how does Namjoon know about that?" you hum, plopping your elbow onto the table as you place your chin on your palm, eyes expectedly watching her.

"Jungkook told him when they went out the other day," She waves her hand, "It was before you moved in, actually." she adds and you nod.

So you explain to her your feelings and thoughts about it, while she nods the whole time along your words attentively listening to you until you end it that you're happy about your decision because overall, it's the best option you had.

It feels easy to talk about it to another person, to someone that is not involved in it as much as perhaps Jimin and Taehyung are. Not that you mind that, not at all! In a way, you think Maya is more blunt with you than one of your friends would be, even though they're awfully honest they still care about your feelings a lot. Maya does too but still, she's your new friend and a woman, seeing things slightly differently.

Overall, she agrees with everything anyone has said to you so far and she's just another factor that makes you think; It's not that serious or deep, just enjoy it and let him help you.

The place she has chosen for you to meet feels comfortable and intimate at the same time, thanks to the dim lighting. It's more on the posh side which surprises you, especially some of the prices for a simple drink but luckily, you both stick to non-alcohol drinks for the rest of the night since both of you have to drive back home. You've never been in this place and like Maya reveals, she has been coming here with Namjoon for date nights when they're not particularly aiming for the dinner date.

Somehow, the conversation about two lovebirds that are about to be married, actually very soon since Maya says they're already planning it and want to get married this year, brings you to your own love life. You don't feel uncomfortable talking about it, not even when you bring Haneul and the coincidence of you meeting at the same club, not leaving the fact Jungkook already punched him.

"Jungkook is something else, I swear," Maya giggles, obviously getting excited at the thought of Jungkook punching your ex-boyfriend for you. "But I think he had done the right thing, you said Haneul was coming on to you and even though you were confused about it, he should have asked you before being intrusive."

"I'm glad Jungkook had stepped in," you admit, "I don't know what I'd have done if he wasn't there."

That catches Maya's attention even more, catching onto the hidden meaning behind what you've just said.

"Do you think you'd be able to sleep with him?"

"Who?" you blurt out, eyes wide as soon as that leaves your mouth and Maya's look just the same as she gives you a glance with a grin.

"Haneul, of course," she responds, "Wait, did you think about Jungkook?"

"What? No!" you protest right away, shrinking into the stool you're sitting on but it's too late.

Realization crosses on Maya's face and she gasps, "Were you so... heated," She tries to find the right word. "Because of Jungkook?"

"No?" you murmur, looking away but it's too pointless to deny it. Maya is a smart woman, and apparently she reads you easily but it's your fault for not being able to lie and deny the obvious.

"Girl, I don't blame you," she says, pursing her lips and doing a hand gesture as she leans back.

You clear your throat, almost choking on your spit.

"What? Jungkook is obviously hot and sorry to mention this, but you guys have a history,"

You know she's aiming at the fact that you and Jungkook hooked up which she knows because of what happened on the trip on New Year.

"Come on, it makes sense and there's nothing wrong with that. You can't control how hot somebody is and when that somebody looks like Jungkook at that, it makes you want to jump his bones."

"Maya!" you scold her, looking around to make sure nobody heard her but luckily, the tables are quite far away from one another.

"It's true!" she laughs, definitely not scandalized by what she has just said out loud. You can't blame her, she is right. "You're both single, so you fucked and what? You're both young and are getting along perfectly."

She's one of a kind for sure.

Her words do bring some sort of comfort to you. Your friendship with Jungkook is too precious to you and she makes it sound so easy, which currently feels like since your friendship remains unaffected.

"You're smart people, have sex and fun!" she suggests, almost exclaims and apparently, you do some kind of face, brows shooting up as you nod awkwardly, and it doesn't take too long for Maya to gasp loudly, almost knocking down the stool with her. "No way!"

"Maya--"

"What the fuck," Her lips spread into the widest smile, the one where she shows her perfect teeth and her big plump lips stretch. "You guys are hooking up again, aren't you?"

Guilty and busted, you don't answer but there is no need to because it's more than obvious.

"We just--got in the moment after what happened at the club and we--we didn't have sex that night!" you quickly point out, "After I woke up the next morning, Jungkook was actually very cool about it and he..." you stop, shaking your head embarrassingly as Maya nods, already getting the idea of what must've happened. "And then we haven't seen each other because we were busy but as I moved in, the first night--"

"Oh my god!" she squeals, "You guys did it the first night you moved in? You beasts!"

"Maya!" you shush her, not being able to hold back a giggle as she joins you. "It's not like we're having sex every day. We haven't had it since that night." you shrug.

"So? You can still have it whenever you both want," she shrugs, "Y/N," she calls out your name and once you look up at her, you find her giving you a genuine and relaxed smile. "I want you to know that I'm in no way shaming you. You're not doing anything bad, you're allowed to have fun and like I said, you and Jungkook are smart people. You wouldn't do this if you weren't sure about it."

You smile back at her, giving her a slight nod. "Yes, I think you're right," Her smile widens. "But... could you please perhaps keep it to yourself?" you ask unsurely, knowing there's a high chance she would tell Namjoon.

They're dating, no, engaged for god's sake! You and Jungkook tell yourselves things you swear you won't tell anyone else. You can't imagine they're not doing it too.

"I won't tell anyone," she assures you, "Not even Namjoon, I promise."

Namjoon is not the biggest problem, it's just a very intimate thing and you definitely don't want the whole friend group to know your and Jungkook's business.

You talk for another hour or so, luckily changing the topic to their wedding as Maya shows you some of the pictures she saved for inspiration. Meanwhile, she asks you if you'd accompany her to her wedding dress shopping which you gladly accept. The date is unknown yet but you're more than happy to be a part of such an incredible part of her life.

Coming home later than you'd expect, you're met with lights turned off and the faint sounds of television being turned on as you close the front door. Shrugging the blazer off along with your shoes, you walk to the living room to find Jungkook slouched on the couch, his legs resting on the coffee table as he watches some action movie.

"You're back?" he asks, voice slightly tired as he fumbles his eyes and straightens.

You greet him, grinning as you join him and plop on the space next to him. "Uhm," you tell him, tiredly throwing your leg over him and cuddling up to him.

He chuckles at you, "How was it?"

"Nice," you mumble into his chest, welcomed by the floral scent of him. "Maya asked me to help her pick the wedding dress for her." And she might know about you and me, but you don't tell him that.

You feel like eventually you will but for now, it's not that important information.

"Really?" Jungkook asks, voice quiet and light. "Have you eaten something? I ordered from that Italian restaurant we tried before, I got you the tomato sauce ones you like. It's probably cold by now, so just heat it up."

"God, I love you," you whine dramatically causing him to laugh as his chest vibrates. "We had some appetizers but no actual dinner."

"Then go eat," he ushers you, gently slapping your ass a few times as you groan at him.

Lifting your head up, you look at Jungkook whose face is illuminated by the television screen, the shadows constantly changing by each scene that plays on it. He glances at you, the corner of his lips lifted up and you fight off the urge to kiss him, your growling stomach interrupting you. So you stand up, wanting to cuddle up to him while he preferably rubs your back because you're tired as hell and never can say no to a good back rubbing

"Hey," Jungkook calls out once you're turned back to him and you look at him across your shoulder. "Is there any dress code for tomorrow night?"

Ah, the party Jungkook is invited to. "Nothing specific, just wear something elegant and nice but nothing fancy." you shrug and he gives you a thumbs up.

You still have your stomach to satisfy, being reminded of the party tomorrow once again. Luckily, all of you are working less hours, having enough time to get prepared while the party will be held in a local place which business men usually hire for this kind of occasion.

You're falling asleep with a stomach full, freshly out of the shower and Jungkook sleeping on the other side of the bed. The comfortable silence and soft bed lulls you to sleep in a record time.

Being reminded by Junho not to be late at every opportunity had to take almost all of your remaining energy, causing the rest of the staff to complain silently behind his back. Luckily for some of them, not everyone is required to be there but since you deal with other model agencies, making sure everything goes smoothly and on time, communicating with people, your presence there is mandatory. Not officially though, but you've no plans of having to deal with grumpy and mad Junho if you decided not to attend at the last minute.

Dragging your feet towards the front door, you're immediately welcomed by the pleasant scent of Jungkook's home as you enter. After undressing and taking off your shoes, you find Jungkook in the bedroom, greeted briefly by him as he stares with a frown at his bed where some of his shirts and button-ups are displayed.

"What do you think?" he asks as you put down your purse and plop onto bed, causing some of his shirts to get slightly crinkled as Jungkook scolds you.

Ignoring him, you plop onto your elbows and look at the clothes. "Literally whatever," you shrug, "Everything looks nice."

Rolling his eyes, obviously not finding you being any help he mutters something under his breath. Not wanting to waste any more time, although laying in the bed after an exhausting day despite you leaving early is too strong, you force yourself to stand up.

The shower is quick and so is your ability to take off your make-up, just to do it again. You're busy and so is Jungkook apparently, both of you doing your own thing while you prepare for the evening, so when you actually bump into him after finally making it out of the shower – your breath is taken away.

Completely ignoring the fact that you stand there in your underwear, forgetting your outfit which is hanging in Jungkook's closet, you're speechless as Jungkook wears his usual black slacks with blue striped shirt where his sleeves are rolled up, exposing more of his tattoos. The buttons are not buttoned all the way up, exposing a good amount of chest but not too much for it to be scandalized. Whether he wants to leave it like that or button more of it, he looks handsome as ever.

"Tie or no tie?" he asks, turning around to face you, his eyes momentarily dropping down your body.

You're heated under his gaze, but somehow remain unaffected in terms of Jungkook seeing you like this a few times by now.

"No tie," you answer, walking to his closet and pulling out your baby pink slacks with a matching blazer and a white blouse that has been ironed thoroughly by you. "What do you think?" you ask, showing him the outfit that is hanging on a hanger, although he can't exactly see it clearly.

Turning around, you catch him shamelessly letting his eyes linger on your exposed ass and as he meets your gaze, he has the decency to quirk up his lips in a light smirk.

Playfully rolling your eyes at him, you look at the outfit. "At first I was going to wear a dress but I feel like I wear them every time I attend these kinds of parties and events," you tell him, thinking out loud at the same time.

It looks more formal and different than your usual choice of outfit, but you like it.

"I'm sure you'll look great," Jungkook tells you, waving you off, "But tell me about that lingerie. Is it new?"

"Jungkook!" you exclaim, laughing as he shrugs the same shameless style. Ignoring him, you turn with your back to him, looking for any possible creases before you still have the time to iron it in case it's not completely ironed.

Completely oblivious to Jungkook's approaching figure, you get startled when he gently grabs you by your hips and presses his face into the crook of your neck, tickling you with his hair as you scold him. His touch sets another blazing fire through your entire body, shooting straight between your thighs and it takes everything from you to not press them together.

"What are you saying, a quickie?"

Is he serious right now? You have to get prepared, you like to be on time and not rush yourself when you don't have to. Besides, you'd like to grab a bite of something before you leave. Surely, there will be food but you're there for business, not for stuffing your face with food.

"You're unbelievable," you tell him, scoffing but gasping when he delivers a soft smooch on your neck, hands playing with the hem of your thong. Not the most comfortable underwear, but they make no lines with the slacks you want to wear which is very convenient right now.

What is not convenient to have sex when you're supposed to be there in an hour.

"So? What are you saying?" Jungkook hums, hands still lingering on your burning skin that is scented with his shower gel because you still haven't bought your own. Although, he respectfully doesn't move them any further but enough to tease you and almost cause you to meowl under his touch.

"I just did my make-up," you complain, not moving an inch despite your mouth saying something else. Jungkook notices, lips curling into a silent smirk.

"So? I won't touch your face,"

You snort, knowing it has nothing to do with him touching your face. Sex with Jungkook is messy and hell of a ride, there's no way you'll look presentable enough after that.

"We're already dressed," you try to argue, "There's no time for sex."

"I can be quick," he offers, "Come on, gorgeous. Just bend over for me,"

"Fuck, Jungkook," you breathe out, another wave of heat rushing through you. "Don't say things like that."

"What exactly?" he smiles.

"All of it," you tell him, turning around as you press your hands against his chest, cursing how hard and warm it feels beneath them. "Did the sight of my underwear turn you on?" you tease, trying to somehow get through this without you actually having sex.

Not that you don't want to. You do. So fucking much, but there's just no time for it.

"The sight of you," Jungkook says, inching closer while you start to back away, met with his lips spreading into a grin while he eyes you like a prey. "And maybe your lingerie too, you look hot."

And then he sneaks his hand to your backside, grabbing onto the soft flesh of your asscheek once he's pressed against you, your whole body against the dresser while the edge is digging into your lower back.

"We can have sex when we come home," you offer, breath hitching as Jungkook's another hand does the same thing to your other cheek, spreading them apart as you feel the thin stripe of your thong rubbing against your sex. "We don't have time for another shower."

"I'm gonna be quick, we'll barely break a sweat."

And you're ready to argue, tell him that you'll probably smell like sex and you're about to meet business, important people and you can't walk around smelling like that. But Jungkook pokes his inner cheek with his tongue, eyes tingling with lust and mischief almost as if he knew you're losing this and fuck, he looks so hot your walls contract around nothing and the thought of his dick inside of you wants you to shiver.

"Quick, alright," you tell him, voice already strained as Jungkook nods with a grin and quickly backs away to grab the condom from his nightstand. His lips curl into a frown for a moment when it's the last one, the empty box of condoms tossed onto the nightstand near his lamp.

He joins you in no time, standing in his previous position as he starts unzipping his slacks, exposing the white boxers with a tent growing in them. You don't bother to take off the poor excuse of an underwear, the thong barely doing any job to hide your cunt and they give Jungkook great access.

"No foreplay though," you tell him, his eyes flickering to you as his head is held low to focus on his task of pulling down his boxers.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, there's no time for that. You said quick." you quote him. He knows he did, but there's an unsure frown decorating his pink pouty lips.

"It's gonna burn like hell," he warns you, but you already know all of that.

Your wetness is already too close to drip down your legs and before you can tell Jungkook not to worry about that, even mentioning you should be wet enough, he leaves your side for another moment as he pulls out the lube from where he keeps the condoms.

The moment Jungkook is back and fishes his cock out, you salivate at the angry red tip and veins poking underneath the skin. It's safe to say you're baffled whether to get on your knees and please him instead, although you don't want to be robbed of your own orgasm and of the feeling of his cock stretching your walls.

The sight of Jungkook putting on the condom down his length is never boring, always captivating that makes your thirst for him even worse. He squirts a good amount of lube down his standing and hard cock, the faint scent of strawberries hitting your nose.

"You sure you don't want my fingers at least?" Jungkook asks, throwing you an unsure glance as he suddenly grabs you by your thighs, hoisting you up on his dresser.

Gasping, you look around wondering if the piece of furniture will be able to hold you. It looks like it will and Jungkook spreading your legs catches your attention once again, hands squeezing your flesh to get the response out of you.

"No, just stick it in," you tell him honestly, grinning when you see the amused look on his face. "Fuck me, but you better be quick, I'm not kidding--ah--fuck,"

He doesn't play around, pushing your thong aside and replacing it with the tip of his cock, slowly pushing the head inside that makes you gasp and stop you in the midst of you talking. One hand holding onto his shoulder while the other grips the edge of the dresser, Jungkook starts pushing his entire cock inside you. He's not totally quick, still making sure he doesn't hurt you in the process.

You grunt, throwing your head back at the uncomfortable pressure his cock is causing, yet some of it feels arousing and thanks to the lube, he's entering you smoother and easier even without any preparation. His hand goes between your thighs, thumb circling your clit which automatically makes you relax and he slides in even easier, burying himself inside you to the halt.

"You good?" he asks, voice breathy as you nod eagerly, telling him to get on with it (literally).

And he does.

When he said he's going to be quick, he definitely didn't lie and although the first rounds of his thrusts are a little bit more careful, still quicker than usual, he picks up the pace with each thrust. You can barely take it, his thumb stimulating you while he hits your walls perfectly, angling his hips and cock so it brushes the great spot you've never known you had until Jungkook.

Explicit sounds of wetness and your skin thrusting against each other, you're thankful for Jungkook's body pressed against you and arms holding you by your thighs, making sure you don't slip off.

"Fuck, cunt so good," Jungkook grunts, your walls tightening around him which doesn't go unnoticed by him and causes him to groan. "You like that? You like when I talk about your cunt, huh?"

"Fuck," you curse, hand slipping off Jungkook's shoulder as you let it drop down his chest.

"How good it is, how warm and tight it feels?"

Shit, his dirty mouth is seriously going to be the death of you.

"You like the dirty talk?" he almost teases you, his thrusts and hips not faltering, not even for a second as he's knocking the breath out of you while the furniture shakes from the violent thrusts your bodies make.

Your orgasm is approaching quickly, you're not sure what prompted it to come so fast, whether it's his thrusts or dirty words spitting out of his mouth or both, it doesn't matter. But the enjoyment of reaching the end is quickly cut off from you as Jungkook stops, leaning face towards you as his lips brush against your cheekbone.

"Don't worry, I already knew that."

And he continues, ramming into you and acting upon his carnal desire. It's only a matter of seconds before you moan Jungkook's name in the short form, sounding almost too cute for Jungkook's liking because he's there fucking you and you call him that sweet nickname you've been calling him for years now. The knot snaps inside of you, wetness gushing out of you while Jungkook keeps fucking you, hard and quickly like he promised, grunting at the feeling of your walls clenching him repeatedly.

The thumb off your clit, he spreads your thighs even further apart and sets ruthless pace, rushing towards his own orgasm and with his balls tightening, he knows it's coming because a few more thrusts and he's finally coming, spurting and spilling all of his cum into the pink condom.

"Ah, shit," he curses silently, grunting, giving you a few slowed thrusts to ride through his orgasm.

And then he lets out the most pleased sigh, your fingers clutching the back of his head as he leans against your shoulder to take a few breaths. Your bodies heave with rushed breaths, slowly calming down from your post-ograsmic state.

"Was that quick enough?" he asks, tilting his head to look at you and you snort, a genuine giggle erupts from you before you playfully push him away.

"Shut up and help me get down," you tell him through a smile, Jungkook coming to the rescue as he does exactly what you ask of him.

On wobbly feet, you clutch onto him while ignoring the smug grin he has on his face. "Do I smell of sex?"

You suddenly ask, a heartful laugh resounding from Jungkook at your worries and the fact how serious you sound. "You don't," he tells you, leaning towards you to take a sniff to prove his point as he dramatically holds his head high and hums.

"I told you you'll barely break a sweat." he adds with a triumphal grin, moving to bin the condom.

He did say that. You might not reek of sex and sweat, but Jungkook's cologne is stuck on your skin and even after you dress up, and put your own fragrance on, somewhere in the distance you can still feel him on you.

But who said you mind that?

The place Junho chose looks amazing, indeed. It's huge with staff welcoming you and offering you champagne, which Jungkook accepts and hands you one of the glasses. Thanking him, you look around already recognizing some of the people you work with but there are also people from different departments. Junho definitely went all out to impress the future partners and you see him jumping between other groups of people, smiling all widely which is already a very rare sight to see.

Five minutes in and you're trying to hide your amused smile behind the glass of champagne, but it's not your fault though. It's what Yoongi's unimpressed and bored look does to you. Most of you probably feel the same way, or you for sure, you're just good at hiding it and not showing it in front of others like he does.

"This place looks posh," you comment, Jungkook humming next to you as he sips on the champagne, not wanting to drink tonight since he's driving you back home. You offered to pay for the cab but he declined, saying he doesn't mind driving.

You and him stand behind one of those small tall circle tables, looking around with no need to interact with others just yet. Surely, Junho will notice you and make you mingle through the crowd, making your presence useful. And that's why it's a blow to your ego once he spots you and Jungkook, excusing himself to an older couple before he makes his way to your direction, only for him to snatch Jungkook.

Jungkook throws you a look across his shoulder, both in amusement and silent question if you're okay, you roll your eyes and that's all it takes for him to grin as he lets Junho lead him away. Standing there alone, you spot Benjamin talking to one of, what you assume, future partners. Slowly enjoying the frizzy and sweet taste of the pink champagne, you watch him and notice how professional, yet sweet he looks. His soft brown eyes shine as he's saying something, hands hidden in his grey slacks, as he shoots a handsome grin to the man.

He is handsome and is definitely a rare sight in Seoul. As he told you on his first days working in the company, his mom is French while his dad is Korean. They moved here when he was six and ever since then, he lives here as well while he visits France and his other side of the family at least twice a year. You can see it – he has that french charm going on.

His sandy hair is parted in the middle, swiped back with a gel that makes him look more elegant. Not that you care about office's gossips, but you already heard some of your female co-workers gush about him. It's not like you blame them, he is handsome but is he someone you'd go for? You're not sure. He seems like a sweet guy and his obvious attention that he gives you should flatter you. To some extent, it does. You're just not ready for any relationship right now and you're not sure if dating someone you get to work with every day would be a great decision.

"A few more minutes and I'd think you like him too,"

Eyes rolling automatically, you're not surprised by the sudden presence of the devil himself as he joins and gives you a Cheshire cat smile. "Who cares what you think," you tell him dryly, taking a big gulp of your champagne because suddenly, sipping doesn't sound like an option.

"Careful, you'll insult me," he jokes, and you don't give him that pleasure of reacting to his stupid jabs. "You brought your boyfriend with you?"

"For the millionth time, he is not my boyfriend," you tell him through clenched teeth, not even sparing him a look. "Go away, you're ruining my night."

"You're so mean," Yoongi says and as you take a glance at him, you see him faking a pout which makes you snort. "This party's boring. I should've fake being sick or something."

You laugh, shaking your head at him. "We both know Junho would not let you live for it," you remind him, "I've thought about it too." you murmur, both of you looking at each other before you snort at the same time.

Soon enough, Benjamin comes your way with the older man in a suit, flashing you a toothy grin.

"Hey, Mr. Huang wanted to say hi," Benjamin chirps, the older man smiles although there is some kind of intimidating aura around him.

"Oh, you're one of the Chinese partners, right?" you ask, quickly taking his head as you slightly bow in greeting which he seems to be appreciative about. "It's lovely to meet you!"

He shakes Yoongi's hand, a quiet greeting leaving his lips as the man confirms your assumptions. The conversation doesn't end there and the four of you stand in a circle while Mr. Huang talks about his company and business. Surprisingly, none of it is boring and you find yourself to be intrigued in this conversation. Somewhere in the middle, when Yoongi talks to him and seems to be slightly more relaxed (which means he doesn't look as if he's actually dying here), your and Benjamin's eyes meet and he smiles at you.

"Hey," he mouths and you smile, greeting him back. "You look beautiful tonight."

You feel the familiar warm feeling in your chest whenever somebody compliments you, so you politely thank him and there's no time to be exchanging more words, Mr. Huang is far more important because soon, you find out he's a big name in China.

After a couple of minutes, he parts from you with Benjamin as well, which most likely means he's been told to accompany him through the evening by Junho. You and Yoongi are soon swapped by another group, although this time your co-workers as they start to gush around all the business partners.

In a conversation you particularly take no interest in, you scan the room around you and find Jungkook almost immediately, standing on the other side of the room. It's not that hard to spot him in his striped shirt, recognizing those thighs and butt almost immediately. You allow yourself to watch him, not finding anything more interesting at the moment.

You're not surprised to see some of the women glancing his way, whispering something to each other and not even the presence of a model next to him doesn't surprise you. She's almost as tall as Jungkook with the heels she's wearing, her long and exposed tan legs on full display. Her mouth is moving which indicates she's talking while the rest of the people watch and listen to her, Jungkook nodding along before he opens his mouth and starts talking again.

The memories of him and you before you came here pop in your mind, causing you to dryly gulp and you hate to admit how it smooths your soul to know you're the one he fucked today, not the model or any other woman. It's hard to stay confident with a woman next to him looking like that, deep down you know how pathetic it is. It slightly irritates you how easy it would be for him to get any woman he points at.

Sometime, a little bit after Jungkook stops talking and listens to Junho again, he shifts his gaze and looks around, just right to the side where you are standing. Your eyes meet, and you grin as he sends you a toothy grin back, a heat spreading in your stomach and shamefully enough, between your thighs as well. You have to look away, feeling the heat crawling at the back of your neck and luckily, your name is being called by Lauren, one of the assistants working under you.

Jungkook turns around to pay a full attention to the conversation, bowing politely whenever Junho praises his work for the hundredth time in the past twenty minutes.

"... like I said, I'd love to work with you on this next project Mr. Jeon," Junho chirps, looking straight at Jungkook as everyone quietens down. "I know you've got your own business going on, but we as a company would be more than thrilled to work with you again."

He can't lie, the money Junho is offering sounds good and Jungkook can make some free time for this, since it's in two months. He is usually booked for the whole year but he surely can think of something. Also Junho is aware of your friendship, and despite this deal having nothing to do with you, Jungkook also wants to take it for you. He heard you saying he's acting like a prick sometimes, it surely can get useful if Jungkook accepts this job. He hopes this way, Junho will go easier on you.

Although, he's not sure if men and bosses like him are like that.

"It sounds appealing, Mr. Gwan," Jungkook smiles, "I will take it, we can discuss further details later. If you're okay with that, of course."

"That sounds wonderful!" Junho doesn't hide his happiness of snatching Jungkook as his photographer for the next project. "We will need one more photographer, though."

It makes sense, there is a lot of work and the main job will go to Jungkook, but there has to be another photographer to do other small jobs like taking polaroids, helping with taking more photos and so on.

"If you don't mind, I know someone that might help," Jungkook offers and Junho attentively listens, nodding right away. It seems like he trusts Jungkook's judgement, the conversation lasting for another half an hour.

It's not as bad here as you thought it would be. That's your current thought as you sip on your third glass, the pistachio flavor on your tongue thanks to the macaroon you've tasted just a minute ago.

Of course, your sudden change of opinion could be thanks to the champagne but still, there's boredom starting to annoy you. You would still rather be wrapped in a blanket with no make-up and watching whatever shit show they're playing on the television right now.

A hand brushes against your lower back, a familiar cologne hitting your nose as another presence joins you. "You good? You're having fun?"

Glancing at Jungkook, you don't fight off the soft smile that appears on your lips which he reciprocates right away, reaching for one of the grilled toasts since you're standing next to the food table. "Fuck, I'm so hungry." he mutters and bites into the toast while you grin.

"Can't say I'm having the best time of my life but yeah, it's not that bad," you admit, shaking your head when Jungkook offers you a bite from his toast. "What about you? You sure are busy tonight." you joke, seeing him nod as he swallows his bite.

"Junho offered me a job, I think that's why he wanted me here," Jungkook informs you, your eyes widening in surprise and interest which takes all of him to continue. "It's just one project but he's offering good money."

"So you took it?" you ask interestedly, scooting away from the table as Jungkook takes one of the plates.

"Yeah," he says with a full mouth, clearing his throat as if he just noticed where he is. It causes you to giggle as you grab a napkin for him, which he takes from you with a silenced 'thanks'.

You don't ask anything further, letting him eat in peace as you tell him about your evening so far, mentioning you've met Mr. Huang which Jungkook responds he has met him too, he's one of the main partners for the project he's going to work on. Among all of that, Jungkook also mentions the model which you could've seen standing next to him and apparently, she'll be the main star on it.

Ignoring the sour taste in your mouth and on your face, you stay silent and listen to Jungkook instead as he finishes his toast, and tells you more about people he has met so far. To be honest, Jungkook looks in his element and you don't get that much opportunity to see him in a situation like this. Yes, he's always been cool and extroverted whenever he hung out with someone, but being in this businessy state is quite something new. You can't say you hate it.

He's hot, and you're more than sure you'll be asked by at least one woman about him, judging by the eyes on you.

Jungkook may be attracting the most women audience here, but also one pair of eyes is set on you and once you wave at the man Jungkook remembers, even though it takes him a moment to realize, you look at him in a question.

"Is that the guy who stared at us before?"

You snort at his bluntless, replaying the moment when Jungkook came to pick you up and was thrown off by the sudden stare coming from Benjamin.

"Yeah, that's Benjamin." you answer, glancing at him again and he's not looking at you currently, however he keeps glancing your direction here and there.

"What's with the stare down?" Jungkook frowns in confusion, putting down the empty plate as he wipes his mouth clean, throwing the napkin to the bin. "Do you have a crush on him or something?"

You snort, looking amusingly at Jungkook. "It's the other way around, Mr. Jeon."

"Wait--he has a crush on you?" Jungkook sounds surprised.

"Well, don't sound so surprised. I am not that bad looking and I am completely worthy of being someone's crush." you joke, wiggling your brows at him as he lifts the corner of his lips in an amused chuckle.

"That's not what I meant," he shakes his head, "You just never mentioned him. Is he giving you a hard time?"

You laugh, patting Jungkook's chest while you adjust his shirt a little. "There was no reason to," you tell him, sliding your hands down his chest before you let go of him. "And no, he's just obviously into me and I am trying to politely show him that I am not interested."

"Just tell him," Jungkook shrugs, "You're so blunt and straight-forward, why don't you just tell him?"

"Well, because he has never told me he likes me that way. I think it's obvious but I can't just call him out on it. Besides, he's a nice guy and I don't want to hurt him by saying something so blunt right away, especially when he didn't give me a reason for it," you explain, seeing Jungkook frowning in thought as he looks away from you and shifts his gaze on Benjamin.

Noticing it, you elbow him in his abs which barely does anything since you're met with a set of hard muscles. "Don't just stare at him!" you harshly whisper, met with Jungkook's amused look. "You look intimidating and you're making it more than obvious we are talking about him." you scold him, amusing Jungkook even more as he lets out a laugh.

"Okay, Ms. Professional," he teases you, causing you to annoyingly purse your lips at him.

"Mr. Jeon, can you come here please for a second?" Junho calls Jungkook, your annoyance clearly showing because Jungkook laughs at your expression, thanks to Jungkook's body that is hiding you from Junho's sharp eyes.

"You gonna be okay?" Jungkook asks, checking on you as you playfully roll your eyes and push him from you.

"Just go, Mr. Jeon,"

Jungkook shoots you a wink, your skin burning at the single reaction as he walks away as if nothing happened. In a desperate need to fan yourself, you settle on drinking instead as you scurry away from the curious women's eyes. Unlike them, they don't hide the grin and swoon Jungkook has made them feel.

Most of the night is spent with your best friend slash fuck buddy, being ripped away from you at every opportunity – whether it's Jungkook's presence wanted or yours. You can't say you're disappointed because you know this party is mainly about business, Junho's invitation for Jungkook more than clear now, but still, you enjoy every little minute you get to spend next to Jungkook who is kind enough to come and check on you whenever he can.

You're not going to lie, you do enjoy his close proximity and whenever he brushes past you, and you blame it all on him. One look at him and you keep yourself from salivating, and maybe you should blame the amount of champagne glasses you've drunk. You're not drunk though, god no, you can't possibly get drunk on a work related thing, whether it's a party or something else. You just feel a familiar heat relaxing your body and from time to time, you find yourself getting drowsy and distracted which the alcohol is the real cause for.

"I don't think I've ever thanked you enough," Benjamin says, a trail of thoughts interrupted by his soft but yet manly voice, a guilt burning in your chest for not listening to him for a moment.

Turning your gaze back to him, you offer him a confused smile. You've been standing and talking together for a while now. He mostly updated you about Mr. Huang and confirmed your assumptions about Junho telling Benjamin to accompany the important man. The conversation hasn't been uncomfortable, not at all, quite on the contrary. At least he's been keeping you company, something you're very grateful about.

"Thanked me?" you ask, smiling and frowning in confusion as Benjamin chuckles, glancing down at his glass before he looks back at you and nods.

"I was so nervous to be working here and you've made me feel welcomed from the very beginning,"

Your heart warms up at his thoughtful words, knowing how hard it is to be changing jobs and be in a new team. Remembering Benjamin's nervous and very polite attitude, it's hard to forget how nervous he really seemed to be but a good thing is, he's skilled. He also speaks French which definitely adds a lot of points on his CV, and you had the opportunity to hear him speak the foreign language while he was talking on the phone with clients.

Somebody might say he's a male character coming straight from a romantic movie.

Back to the first Benjamin's days of working here, you do remember assuring him that he'll do a great job and whatever needed to be explained, you made sure to explain it to him or at least tell someone to do it. And he's very smart, understood everything from the first explanation and there hasn't been any problem with him. Junho also seems to be very pleased by taking him in, that says enough in your opinion.

"I guess I wanted to thank you for that."

"Ah, you don't need to thank me," you assure him, touching his forearm softly but you pry your hands off as soon as he looks down at the touch. "You really are welcome,"

You give him a smile and he looks back at you, offering you the same smile while you feel his eyes linger on you a little bit too long, which wouldn't be a bother, if it weren't for the look in them.

"So, tell me more... have you grown accustomed to Junho and his work ethic?"

That makes him snap out of his daze as he chuckles, seeing your own grin when he seems to understand exactly what you are talking about. It doesn't take a genius to figure out Junho and his wild personality. He's a pain in the ass but isn't that bad of a boss. He still could've been worse, that's what you mostly tell yourself when the man pisses you off.

"Yeah, his work ethic is something else," he says with a grin, getting a genuine laugh from you. "I actually don't find him bad, well he is peculiar but--"

"Hey, I'm back," A chest brushes against your back, soon followed with a hand lingering on your lower back before Jungkook stands next to you, his arm brushing against your side. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?"

Glancing at Jungkook, you find him already staring at Benjamin who has a look of confusion crossed on his face, until he glances between you and him, eyes scanning Jungkook's whole figure. You tense, not liking the way he eyes Jungkook and there's no chance Jungkook himself doesn't notice it, but he seems collected and staring right back at him.

Shifting on your heels, you clear your throat and give Jungkook a crooked smile. "No, not at all," you tell him, "This is my new co-worker Benjamin. This is Jungkook."

Leaving out the fact that Jungkook knows who he is by now.

Benjamin forces a polite smile on his full lips, "I haven't seen you around, do you work here?"

A little perplexed by the lack of a proper introduction by Benjamin himself, you quickly shake yourself out of it. It's the tone he low-key settles that makes you a little bit anxious, because whatever the Alpha stare-down the two men have, it never ends up nicely.

"I don't," Jungkook answers curtly, giving him a smile that almost screams fake, and you hope Benjamin can't tell because you can't deal with any of this. "I came with Y/N."

Benjamin mimics Jungkook's fake smile, your heart picking up the pace by the sudden tension even though the conversation isn't too forward. It's the one and visibly stare-down the two of them have.

"Ah, yes," Benjamin exclaims in thought, "You're her friend. Yoongi told me,"

At the mention of the evil man, you tense even more and curse him whenever he is right now. Of course, he is somehow involved in this. Even if he told him the truth, you still don't trust Yoongi and his intentions. Since Benjamin knows about Jungkook and who he is to you, it means he probably asked Yoongi. And the idiot knows Benjamin has his eyes for you, he's very well aware that you're not interested. The news doesn't surprise you, yet it irritates you to the core.

"I didn't know we could've brought friends." Benjamin says, this time completely aimed at you as he solely stares at you, a look you've grown used to visible on his face as you give him a crooked smile, an uncomfortable shift that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who simply watches the interaction.

"Actually, I'm her boyfriend,"

Catching yourself from choking on your spit, you stare at Jungkook with wide eyes but he doesn't even spare you a glance, eyeing Benjamin who seems to be just as surprised to hear him.

"Boyfriend?" he breathes out, "I didn't know you had a--"

"Yeah, well it's very new, not many people know." you cut him off, offering him a slight smile while you ignore the guilt by the lie. To go with your lie, you scoot closer to Jungkook and look up at him, finding him already staring back at you and you know he's fighting off to smirk right in front of Benjamin.

He eyes you as if you and Jungkook have grown another two heads, his lips slightly twitching as he's trying not to show his displeasure by the news. But of course, nothing is easy when someone particular is around.

"Didn't you tell me just a few hours ago that he isn't your boyfriend?"

Another voice chirps in and if looks could kill, Yoongi would've been dead right away. He looks pleased as he joins you, everyone's eyes on you as you narrow your eyes at the only person you want to attack at the moment.

Yoongi's words spark a hope in Benjamin's eyes, and his attention is solely back on you as you give him a nervous chuckle.

"I don't have to confess to you, Yoongi. Why would I tell you about my personal life?" you challenge Yoongi, raising your brow at him. To be honest, you're quite nervous to tell him something because Yoongi seems like the perfect definition of a snake. You're scared what next comes out of his mouth.

"Why would you lie about such a simple question?" he chirps back, your hands itching to wrap them around his neck but you feel Jungkook's hand on your hip, rubbing you slightly through the fabric.

Thankfully, Benjamin is being called by one of your co-workers and he excuses himself, a perplexed expression on his face as he murmurs his excuse.

"Why the hell would you do that?" you exclaim right away, once Benjamin is out of ear shot.

What drives you completely nuts it's the way Yoongi effortlessly shrugs, not minding he's ruining everything and poking his nose into something that is none of his business.

"Why would you lie to him? Just tell him straight away you don't like him that way, don't lie to him."

Those words coming from Yoongi out of people actually makes you embarrassed, because you know you'd just go along with Jungkook's lie who came to save your ass once he sensed your discomfort.

Before you can open your mouth, not even sure what you want to say other than tell him to fuck off, Jungkook is already one step ahead of you.

"What's it to you?" Jungkook's voice booms out, his features frowned in a hardened scowl.

Jungkook succeeds at getting a reaction from Yoongi, and that is a scowl that clouds his usual nonchalant or amused features.

"I'm bored," he shrugs and you almost scoff out loud at this man. "And besides, she lied."

"And you should mind your business." Jungkook offers but with an edge to his tone that makes you tense, but you're too shocked to even move an inch.

"So should you," Yoongi almost sings out, pursing his lips as you gasp at his rude response while Jungkook frowns.

"You came out of nowhere and said you're bored." Jungkook points out through clenched teeth, still trying to grasp what Yoongi's intentions are while he continues to be unbothered as he looks around for a moment.

"Because I am."

"What are you? A child?" Jungkook scoffs, Yoongi's head turning towards your best friend as he frowns at him. But Jungkook doesn't stop. "Go to the playground then," he snaps and Yoongi opens his mouth, a dead glare set on his eyes as you quickly jump between the two men.

"Okay, stop it you two," you warn them through clenched teeth, "This is ridiculous,"

You look at them but stop on Yoongi, searching face as he simply just stares back at you. His face is expressionless like most of the time and it's hard to read what he thinks. Not an ounce of any emotion which only makes you let out a sigh, both in exhaustion and disappointment. He's sticking his nose where it doesn't belong and you hope he's at least aware of the look of disappointment, not even anger, you give him.

Jungkook's name falls past your lips as you gently tug onto his arm, finding him glaring the hell out of Yoongi, seeming to be just as irritated. However, Yoongi solely stares at you before he looks away for whatever reason, not giving Jungkook and you any attention. Jungkook doesn't move, almost as if he didn't hear you but you know he has and judging by the deadly look, he doesn't want Yoongi to get away with this.

"Jungkook," you warn him, tugging him harder and he finally lets you lead him away from Yoongi, but not before he sends him one last glare.

Luckily, the party is slowly ending as people are leaving and one final round of bidding goodbye to some of the partners and Junho, you're out of the place. What shocks you is the way Jungkook stays quiet for the rest of the ride, jaw clenched and so far, he looks even more mad at Yoongi than you are.

So you sit back, enjoying the leather soft seats his car offers because that's enough drama for tonight.

[pumpkinbxtch]

hi! I love your Apollo fics sm can I please request a fic we’re the reader is Percy’s older sister and she finds out there’s like a prophecy of her marrying Apollo and then like they eventually meet and fall and love and then what there marriage is like

𓇼 the sun & the sea 𓇼 〰✷〰

— apollo / lester x daughter of poseidon!reader

— part i | part ii | part iii | part iv |

☆ radiostar is playin': hot rod by dayglow...!

summary: There is a prophecy waiting for you to listen to it and although it may not be something you expect or consider possible. You know what they say about prophecies…they can't fail to come true.

warnings: none BUT long read, literally. got out of hand and i couldn't stop writing. that's bad? oh, fuck me, i'm sorry. a/n: i appreciate your request, thank you (although I think I changed it a little, sorry). HEAR ME OUT I feel like I owe a lot of love to those who love Apollo, so that's why I didn't entertain the idea of ​​making this long. Hope you like I know it's long, but I promise I did my best to make it bearable and fun, I swear. 😭

“The sea and the sun are not far away as they look…”

They told you to stay away from the attic of The Big House, but they never told you why.

“Only he can go up”, they said, and it seemed stupid to you because he was your younger brother; you were supposed to protect him.

“It's very dangerous”, they told you while Annabeth went up, even though you were a couple of years older than her.

“Only if you lead some quest, but…” but no, because as the years went by, they made sure to remind you of your place. They told you that you were powerful, smart, and capable, because, yes, you were Poseidon's firstborn, but not the chosen one. That was Percy, your brother. Did it hurt? Yes, as an older sister, you tend to aspire to greatness and be an example, but you didn't die; you got over it.

“What does it matter? Less work for me” you said as you watched your brother's back on all the missions. Anyway, you ended up stuck in his destiny.

“His destiny. But then, what's mine?” you wondered. Then, when you took a step near Rachel Dare's cave, they stopped you too.

“It's–”

“Dangerous.” You completed the familiar phrase with a look of disgust, avoiding Chiron's eyes. He just looked at you with pity, thinking to himself that if you went in there, you could cause more trouble for your father or Olympus… Or everyone; it would be a war among all the Olympians, something they didn't need with Titan Kronos already on their heels.

Dionysus gave you his typical mocking smile, the same one that made you want to grab the can of Diet Coke and throw it right at his disgusting Christmas-reindeer-red nose.

“It would be so interesting, but we don't need it,” he said as he dragged you away from Rachel with Chiron.

You weren't stupid, you knew there was some good reason. But damn, those fossils were sneaky and never let you get to your redheaded companion, who also avoided you like the plague. Between those two things, you never managed to achieve it. Even less so after you ended up fighting on the Argo II with your new friends, straight from real Greece.

Oh, man, if you had thought Kronos was a damn old grump, Gaea was an old ball-buster. You didn't even have time to think about your future when you didn't know if you had one.

After the second war is when you started to throw in the towel about the future. You realized that the last thing you wanted to know at that moment was whether you would have to fight against twelve more Titans, return to Tartarus, or travel to Alaska again.

New Rome became your new home, and you only waited for Percy to catch up with you along with everyone else. That is, until you returned home to pack new things and didn't find your brother studying just as he should be.

— Mom? — You asked when she came back from shopping.

She gave you that look, and you cursed.

— Relax, he'll be back in a while; he just went to drop off Apollo or well, now he's Lester because apparently he's no longer a god but Zeus…

— Wow. Wait, what?

As a hero of Olympus, touching, seeing, or talking to the gods was never impossible for you; in fact, it was much more usual for your taste, and although you had been through too much already, that was new. So, you found yourself immediately traveling to Long Island Sound on the back of a Pegasus, looking for your brother. You wouldn't let Apollo, Lester, or whatever he called himself now take your brother away to distract him with his godly stuff that surely wouldn't lead to anything good.

— Where's Percy?! — You shouted in the dining hall, making the campers flinch.

Chiron got up from his seat, and from there, he smiled at you, but it only put you in a worse mood.

— Dear, it's been a long journey. Please, sit and eat with us.

You lowered your head without taking your eyes off Chiron and tightened the dagger on your belt. There was no reason for it, you knew, but you couldn't help feeling that fury after knowing everything you had been through. Percy deserved a break.

— Where's my brother? — The pause between words made the campers squirm in their uncomfortable seats. They had heard about you, about everyone. to be exact, in the third lesson of history in their camp classes.

— He left Apollo and Meg in a field not far from here — Chiron decided to sit back down and began to spread the tablecloth nervously. — He probably should have already reached home while you were flying here.

You sighed, and as you relaxed your body, everyone seemed to feel relieved.

— He has exams, Chiron — He nodded, and you made your way to the table where he was.

— In fact, there are problems, and apparently, he promised to come back this weekend — Your eyebrows furrowed again, and Dionysus laughed.

— Girl, shouldn't you be in New Rome?

— I went home for a few more things, also taking the opportunity to see my family, and it turns out that my little brother was helping an ex god who can't fend for himself, risking his studies. — You replied without looking at him — And speaking of brothers, you should control yours, Mr. D.

The god of wine snorted, and you formed a mocking smile. — Insolent.

— Miss Jackson — Chiron intervened, and you softened your gaze toward him — You can stay tonight, you know you're welcome and after all, it's too late to travel on Pegasus.

You didn't argue with them; you'd never put your pegasus in danger. So, for the first time in a long time, you returned to your cabin, the same one you shared with Percy and Tyson for so many years, and you had to admit that you missed him. At dawn, you were preparing to travel, and you left at the moment you thought no one was watching you, how wrong you were because a few meters away, Apollo was hidden behind the cabin piles, admiring you from afar.

— She… — He felt his heart tighten, and his gaze unfocused. He cursed his mortal body for how weak it was.

— Pervert! — Meg shouted, alerting the other campers who turned confused, and Apollo blushed.

— Shut up, I'm not a pervert — He smiled exaggeratedly at the others, pretending a smile and letting them know that everything was fine.

— You saw her — Said a voice behind him once Meg was far enough away to hear. The brunette turned and smiled sheepishly.

— For a second — Apollo replied, avoiding his old friend's gaze; embarrassment nibbled at his body, and it became evident once his cheeks glowed.

Chiron had never seen him… like that, so young, embarrassed, and notably imperfect, but despite Apollo's opinions about his recent change, he thought it suited him well, even found it amusing.

— You remember…

— I remember it well, Chiron — Apollo blushed even more — That's why I didn't approach her; dealing with my father's wrath is enough. Now I don't want to annoy Poseidon or I'll probably wake up dead on the lake shore tomorrow.

He played with the tips of his sneakers as buried them in the rocks on the floor; he looked like a scared little boy, but Chiron didn't judge him.

— I think you know what it means when she's around when you're close.

The ex god didn't want to pay attention, but he knew he was right.

— Although I remember who she is… there’s a problem. I don't remember how to avoid her…— Apollo's blue eyes looked directly at Chiron's, and the urgency on his face told him he was telling the truth. — If I don't know now, it's going to be harder; all I can do is hide if she's near.

— We've lasted many years with this circus, and as much as I respect the lord of the seas, I don't think this will last long. And you know what's more stubborn than a son of the sea god?

— The sea god — Apollo raised his eyebrows in annoyance, and Chiron resisted rolling his eyes.

— Fate, Apollo. You know it well, things are written. The prophecy is still there; it exists, and all we've done is delay the inevitable.

The brunette nodded with annoyance and waved his hand dismissively.

Although he wanted to pretend that he didn't care, the anxiety of what was to come ate at him. He knew very well that it wouldn't take long for you to discover what all these years had been hidden from you. If Apollo reflected better on that, he wasn't sure he wanted to continue keeping it to himself, either, 'cause those years had been torture for him. Yeah, he knew that you weren't yet mature enough for your mind to be stained with the weight of a prophecy that, unlike the others, not had to do with some quest or some imminent danger that threatened the entire world; but now you are in college, he couldn't wait for you to know.

The thing was, your father thought that the one who could be in danger was you, his precious daughter since Apollo was selfish, arrogant, and immature to have been around for eons. Poseidon could not fully explain the reason The Fates had woven such a destiny for you. So, until things had and could happen at the right time, in the right way, he warned Apollo to be close to you and he knew so well that be such an idiot idea to make him angry.

Before his thoughts could swallow him, Apollo shake them off and sigh to Chiron.

— Right now, I have a bigger problem. I think we've found something.

— Where?

— Here — Chiron frowned, and Apollo looked towards the camp's forest. — My dear friend, you have the Grove of Dodona here, in your playground.

Apollo didn't know that of all the decisions he had made in his life, avoid you was the best one he could make, because even if you had met that day or before, with the things that were about to happen to him, he wouldn't come back as half the man he was.

“Things at the moment, in time” the fates whispered in some place.

[httpskuzuu]

L”m so happy your back! I would like a request a yandere! Pm Dazai (18 yrs old) with a darling who’s naïve and innocent (of course he kidnaps them) how would he react to a such pure person! Thank you for taking this request.

Yandere!PM!Dazai with a naive and innocent reader

This is the first time I write for PM!Dazai (and I do headcanons), don't kill me

Yandere!PM!Dazai x Reader

Idk english, I don't like english, let me

summary: the title :D

tw: kidnapping, corruption of innocence, stalking, death (not reader or Dazai), physical and psychological abuse, maybe something else but idk

Honestly, I don't know how you got into this situation.

I can only think of two options as to how you ended up getting his attention: Dazai was looking for someone like you or you just surprised him.

With the first option, I guess he wanted to get away momentarily from everything he had known in his life, get someone who wasn't as fucked up as he was.

Or you just came unexpectedly into his life, maybe you got involved in one of his missions without having any idea.

Either way, Dazai was dazzled by your innocence.

You are the opposite of him and he wants to keep it that way, he knows what this world is capable of doing to pure souls like yours and he is not going to allow that.

First he won your trust, it was easy, you trusted everyone too fast, you didn't even doubt him in spite of his strange attitude that didn't let you see beyond him.

You never realized the danger in front of your eyes and that only made Dazai adore you more.

He would know every little part of your life, the names of all your friends and the places you go to, he always has an eye on you.

He would keep your friends and family away from you, he's not afraid to kill, threaten or torture others for that purpose.

Deep down, all he wants to do is to corrupt you.

He wants to be the one to destroy your innocence, to show you the cruelty of the world, even if it is contradictory to his initial purpose.

Maybe that's the reason he kidnapped you.

And oh god, that's when the real fun begins.

He doesn't care about your opinion, not in the slightest, and punishments are just around the corner.

Forced affection would be a normal thing, he sees you as a kind of safe place where he can be a bit more vulnerable, just a bit 🤏

Still, I doubt he would ever let you see his true feelings.

That would only be way down the road in your relationship, when Dazai can have complete confidence that you'll never escape.

Yandere!Dazai is not easy, least of all if he's PM Dazai, but your attitude would make it somewhat more tolerable.

Being such a naive little thing, he can trust you more easily.

Plus you're terrified of him, so you don't even think about running away.

But if you were to try… Well, remember what I said about punishments being just around the corner? Then get ready for torture.

Breaking bones, beating you unconscious, isolating you for days, starving and thirsting you, etc.

Although he usually mistreats you as well, it's all more psychological.

He wants to make you see the evil, to see you break and cry.

Makes him have a mix between sadistic joy and regret.

He really feels very guilty for everything he does, for seeing you in such a broken state.

He would never tell you, the closest you get to that would be a strangely silent Dazai cuddling like a koala bear to you.

I hope you have enough mental stamina to endure your stay with Dazai

Oh, and if he sees that he's broken you until there's nothing left of the original you or that all your innocence is gone, maybe he'll kill you because he's bored 😀

The image of your friend would not leave your head. He was immobile, cold, dead.

It was the first time you saw a corpse in real life, it made your blood run cold. Especially because you saw him die and you couldn't do anything about it.

Dazai killed him, after many hours of torture, one shot in his head and his screams stopped. You saw the blood spill on the floor along with pieces of flesh. You did not vomit because of the absence of food in your stomach, but the nausea was there.

He wouldn't let you take your eyes off him, even when he was torturing him. When his fingernails were being pulled out and his skin was burning. You had to keep watching or the torture would transfer to you.

You couldn't save him. Your throat was torn from screaming, but he was still dead. Would his corpse still be in that dark warehouse? Would that be his grave? At least you would have liked to have been able to give him a proper funeral, not abandon him.

You didn't understand how someone could be as evil as Dazai was. Your friend did nothing, he just worried about your disappearance. Now, because of you, he too would become a missing person.

The tears were still wet when an extra weight was placed on the bed. You refused to move, afraid that he would take you back to continue seeing those horrible things, things you can't even describe without breaking down in tears.

He lies behind you and wraps his arms around you, his hands that caused so many murders gently holding your body.

You never thought before that the perpetrators of these acts could be ordinary people, people you would trust and befriend. But they could be, the proof of that was Dazai, someone too young to be killing.

You are conflicted by the situation, you empathize with Dazai. You want to understand him and know what led him to be the way he is today, try to justify him, but he killed your friend. The dilemma of whether he deserved a forgiveness eats at you inside. Could his actions be justified by his past? Maybe Dazai is just a victim like you.

Be that as it may, apparently you still have time to think because he doesn't plan to let you go anytime soon.

I am sleep deprived

[redr0sewrites]

So bc u requested Adam and/or Lute stuff I'd like to request Adam x male!reader? Like literally anything that comes to your mind, idc if it's sfw or nsfw I just crave it °^° (also if you're not comfy with writing male reader that's totally cool too, in that case just ignore this)

I HAVW NO QUALMS AB WRITING MALE READER NONNIE DW!!!! ♥️

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, male!reader, overall adam's usual shenanigans

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

you can NOT look me in the eyes and tell me adam does not have some form of internalized homophobia, and the minute he starts catching feelings for you i genuinely think he'd have a mini crisis

because of his major fuckboy personality he has a LOT of experience with flirting with women, but literally no experience with flirting with men

adam is still pretty confident however, and would probably approach you first.

i think he'd have to be friends with you to catch feelings for you in the first place, so he's probably around you pretty often

adam is very subconsciously flirty with you, but in a much more genuine way without his usual bravado. he doesn't even realize how soft he acts around you, but others can tell by the way his eyes always follow you and how he seems to orbit around you, or the way he'll purposefully stand as close as possible when he's talking to you. theres also the fact that he's literally always touching you, whether it be an arm around your shoulders or a hand resting on your back, he just needs to be close to you. you attract him like a moth to a flame, even when he's in a crowded room all adam is focused on is getting your attention. even his casual hookups stop as he literally focuses all his time on winning you over, even he doesn't realize how much he likes you (everyone else can tell. theres a betting pool in heaven on when you both will get together and who will confess first, etc)

adam definitely acts like a BUFFOON around you, deep down he doesn't think someone like you would want to be with him and overcompensates by bragging constantly about all the woman he's liked in a slightly pathetic attempt to flirt with you and literally CONSTANTLY trying to get your attention. think of his usual flaunting attitude and then turn up the dial by 100%. he wants to be on your mind 24/7 the same way your on his mind all the time

meanwhile ur lowkey heartbroken, bc you think adam is straight and yet you can't get rid of your stupid ass crush on his stupid face!!!! it's honestly especially irritating because he'll flirt with you and call you so many petnames and nicknames and will always be touching you, so you think you have a chance, then all of a sudden he's talking about some girl he banged and you just feel a bit led on

its very amusing for lute to watch the both of you dance around eachother and your feelings, when you both so clearly like eachother but are too scared to do anything about it

honestly i think you'd both end up confessing to eachother in the middle of an argument, maybe your pissed at adam for bragging about the "super hot girl he banged last night" (she isn't real and he spent the entire night thinking about you) and he's pissed off that your getting mad at him instead of being impressed or falling in love with him

definitely one of those dramatic "because i LOVE you, okay?!" confessions i am cringe but i am free and adam just kinda stares at you for a hot minute

adam would literally be like "wait... YOU like ME???? i thought you HATED me????? IM the one who likes YOU!" in usual adam fashion, and you would literally be like -_-"YOU LIKED ME THIS WHOLE TIME??? WHY DIDNT U SAY ANYTHING????" his dumbass would literally be like "I WAS TRYING TO??????" and all of this useless dialogue would literally just end in the two of you admitting your true feelings (much to lute's amusement who was recording the entire thing bc she NEEDS to win that bet)

once you both are officially together? prepare for adam to be the clingiest mf alive (in a cute way tho). he waited so long to be with you and literally became solely devoted to you for a WHILE before winning you over and it's probably been a hot minute since he's genuinely dated someone. sure, he's had hookups, but real, soulful relationships aren't common with him.

adam is ridiculously loyal to you, definitely one of those people who will be like "i have a bf 🙄" when someone random texts them, even if that person wasn't even interested in them romantically

LOVESSS flaunting you!! adam will bring you to every event he attends, he loves bragging about you and showing you off to all of heaven

if anyone ever gave you any shit about your relationship adam would literally drop kick them, he's very defensive about your guys' relationship and wants everyone to know that he loves you.

adam doesn't know shit about labels or sexuality so you probably have to teach him some things, i honestly think he'd be pansexual or just queer/unlabeled (i am totallyyy nooot projecting)

nsfw:

adam has been alive a long time and thought he tried everything sex related under the sun, but being with a guy opened a whole new world of possibilities

adam had explored with anal a bit before, but never with a partner. only in the late hours of the night when jerking off just wasn't enough, and he found himself with a strange temptation, his hands creeping lower and lower until he finally began to thrust his fingers in and out of his aching hole, tears welling in his eyes from a mix of humiliation and pure pleasure. yet, when he admitted to having tried fingering himself before, he also admitted something else- he had never managed to make himself cum, and had always gotten too embarrassed to push himself over the edge

he is a switch FIGHT ME. the first time your both intimate, adam absolutely talks so much shit about topping yet starts whining the second he begins fucking your tight cavern. this leads to you taking control and fucking him senseless, and adam is shocked at how much he enjoys it

he takes dick like a champ, he's a bratty sub at first but once you praise or degrade him, he's melting like putty in your hands

adam is sooo loud, he's a shameless moaner and everyone within a mile radius can hear his screams

you have to teach him how to give head, and he is surprisingly a very fast learner. adam lowkey gets off on how humbling it is to be below you, and he's also the type to get off on his partner's pleasure.

adam definitely has some sort of breeding kink, and when he's fucked dumb and so, so needy, he'll beg you to cum inside, whining about fucking a baby into him and babbling pure nonsense

even though it is quite literally impossible for either of you to get pregnant, he loves that kind of dirty talk. adam will pretend to be embarrassed about it but the thought of you breeding him or him breeding you is genuinely such a turn on for him

yall literally never use a condom im sorry 💀

adam would enjoy topping as well, i def think he enjoys fucking you and he loves fucking you senseless with pleasure

the first time he tops adam goes slow, he wants to learn more than anything and becomes incredibly skilled at reaching that sweet spot inside of you

adam is the first man, the original dick, and he definitely knows how to use it. he's such a fast learner when it comes to sex-related things, and memorizes everything about you and your body. he wants to know what makes you tick, and everything that pleases you or turns you on

adam is a pretty big guy and he can easily maneuver you into any position you want, he really likes hitting it from the back and loves fucking you from behind. he'd definitely pull your hair, forcing your head back so he could whisper absolute filth in your ear

i really really enjoyed writing this urgrhrgregregeh i love me some adam- im an afab person but im genderqueer/unlabeled and sometimes feel more masculine or more feminine, snd this was very fun to write bc i usually don't get requests for male reader or more masculine reader so yea i really really enjoyed this!!! also happy easter to anyone else who celebrates lmao i can't believe yall r getting smut from me on easter 💀

[thepixelelf]

superhero cheol x tech whiz reader warnings: coarse language. food. wc: 1.0k

[anonymous nights] As Seungcheol ducked behind the world’s most disgusting, foul-smelling, gag-inducing dumpster, he thought this was perhaps — no, definitely — the worst idea you’d ever had. His full-head mask was starting to itch, and he felt stupid in his suit sneaking through alleys and hiding behind trash cans.

“Remind me again why I’m following this random ass dude instead of Seo Jewon? What happened to catching the city’s ‘fourth most dangerous villain’?”

A bit of static tickled Seungcheol’s ear through the communication device implanted in his suit, which he knew meant you were getting further and further away the more he pursued the target. He had no idea where you parked your small van, aside from knowing it was somewhere in the city — a precaution put in place so Seungcheol would never be able to give away your location. Or, more accurately, so he wouldn’t risk losing the petabytes of information you’d collected over the years.

“Seo Jewon was a total red herring, this is our real guy,” you said through his earpiece.

The man he was following kept walking, and Seungcheol almost thanked him because he had to get away from whatever was polluting that dumpster. “And you know that because…?”

“Hey, who’s the brains of this operation?” You sounded slightly garbled, but Seungcheol could hear your mouse clicking in the background. “That’s right, me.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes even though he knew you couldn’t see it.

“I can feel you rolling your eyes, Solar Flare.”

Okay, maybe not.

“How do you always do that?”

He could hear your smile through the device. Maybe it wasn’t so hard. “I told you. Brains.” You tapped your mic twice, and Seungcheol winced at the plosive sound. He was about to complain when you spoke again. “Eyes up, Solar, you’re losing him.”

Glancing around, Seungcheol realized he did, in fact, lose track of the target, and he cursed under his breath. He heard you holding back laughter before you muted yourself. Picking up the pace and getting heavier on his feet, Seungcheol searched for your supposed ‘true villain’. Your silence only spurred him on; he knew you were making fun of him in your head.

You’d been assigned to him about a year ago, a decision made by the higher-ups because Seungcheol was apparently “too much of a handful” with his fiery powers (plus an equally fiery attitude), and you were the prodigious tech newbie they could force into working with him. Little did they know, spending too much time with him made you just as annoying. Hence why you and him were out tonight, chasing a completely new suspect instead of the one the bosses sent you after.

“Check your two o’clock.”

Seungcheol slipped into another alleyway, sticking close to the walls, though a load of good that did. “You know,” he said, a little breathless from his efforts to catch up to the target, “it might be a bit easier for me to tail this guy if I wasn’t dressed like Guy Fieri.”

“Hey, I didn’t design the suit, I just built it.” Your words sounded weird again. “Blame the fashion department, not me.”

“Okay, one, we don’t have a fashion department, and two, are eating cup fucking ramen right now?”

He could hear you slurping noodles up. “What? I can’t have dinner and save the city at the same time?”

“Dinner?! It’s like one in the morning!”

“I'm a busy sidekick.”

“You are not my sidekick.”

You snorted into the mic, an undignified sound you never held back from making when it was just you and Seungcheol. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

“Whatever. Tell me you at least had breakfast.” The line went silent, and Seungcheol cursed again. “You’re a hazard.”

Seungcheol could feel your greasy smile through the comm as you cooed. “I’m your hazard, Solar Flare.”

After working together for almost a year, you still hadn’t called Seungcheol by his name. You said it was “keeping things professional”, but Seungcheol was pretty sure you just liked to tease him. Before you, no one had ever made jokes about his destructive superpowers. In fact, most people stayed away from him as much as possible. Then you came along and started saying he was your personal barbecue grill or space heater, never once afraid of his tendency to catch things on fire.

Seungcheol never told you how much he appreciated that.

“Shut up,” he mumbled.

“You lost him again.”

“God damn it.”

Seungcheol spent the next twenty minutes tailing your suspect through the city with you piping in every few turns, letting him know what he couldn’t see. He was beginning to think this was stupid. Of course this guy wasn’t the culprit, you must have been wrong — it wasn’t like you’d never been wrong before.

But then the guy turned a corner where almost no one ever went. He walked through another totally gross alley and went down some rusted outdoor basement stairs, glancing around. Almost like he didn’t want to be followed. Seungcheol silently pleaded it wasn’t what it looked like. (Though he probably shouldn’t have, considering this meant he was about to catch the bad guy.)

After the man entered the door, Seungcheol walked up to it, peering through the tiny barred window. He couldn’t see anything, so he opened the door just a crack and stepped through as quietly as he could. A dark hallway was all that greeted him, but down it, he could hear angry voices going at each other over something he couldn’t quite make out. Peeking out of the hallway, Seungcheol immediately retracted when he saw everything. A bunch of men and piles and piles of… well he didn’t know exactly what, but it didn’t look good.

“I fucking knew it!” you cheered through his earpiece. You must’ve already taken a picture during the millisecond Seungcheol had poked his head out and scanned it. “Alright, I’m calling backup.”

“What’s our cover story tonight? That I just so happened to stumble across the city’s fourth most dangerous secret lair?”

You clacked away at your keyboard. “No cover story this time. I found this guy fair and square.”

part 2 | part 3

[netherfeildren]

Honey, Stomach, Mine ; 3. I Was a Child Once, I'm Not Any Longer

Series Masterlist ; Part 1. ; Part 2.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics; Dystopian Society; Outbreak not Cordyceps AU; Slow Burn; Soft!Dom Joel; Sexual Inexperience; Small booby worship; FLUIDS — like lot’s of fluids forreal omg; Tummy Bulge; Heat Sex; Knotting; Biting; Mating; Blood Mention; Loss of Virginity; Squirting; Pussy Slapping; Breeding Kink; Size Difference; Size Kink; Power Dynamics; Creampie; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Older and Experienced Alpha; Young and Needy Omega; Possessive Behavior; Age Gap

A/N: It's raining here right now and feels really like a perfect morning to post this, I hope you like it.

Word Count: 12.4K

Read on AO3

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3. I Was a Child Once, I'm Not Any Longer

When you make your way into the kitchen a while later – he’d left you with clear instructions of bathroom and teeth, thinking to give you some privacy to adjust to yourself once again after what you’d done together this morning – you’re nothing more than a little omegan mess. Hair a birds nest, his too big t-shirt sliding over one naked shoulder, and worst of all, almost bringing him to his goddamn knees, in the bright morning light shining in through the big bay windows, he can see the glossy mess of your slick smeared all down and along your pretty thighs, almost reaching your knees. 

Jesus fuck, but he’s in trouble. His teeth hurt, his gut aches, his cock – a mind of its own. It’s all starting, and he’s afraid and unprepared and too desperate to put into words. He wants it all now, he realizes, despite his fear, he can’t help himself but want it all. 

You step into the room primly, nose turning up in the air to sniff curiously at the smell of what he’s making you for breakfast, and when your eyes swing around the room to him, shy. Shy as if you’re remembering your modesty only after you’d let him finger your cunt and slicked his cock. The look makes him want to be gentle, a thing he often is not. And when his eyes move further down, something goes soft and shy within him as well: two of his too big socks, mismatched and sagging around your ankles. 

There’s something about you that’s impeccably vulnerable and honest, something he needs to guard fiercely. 

He blinks away, looking back at the cooking sausages he’s got sizzling in the pan. No one had ever cared for you before, not in any real and true way, and he’d received you here with nothing but promises of more uncaring gestures, threats to send you packing. The wrong foot indeed. He’s such an asshole. And he’d not seen to his responsibility properly last night, hadn’t made sure you’d had a rich and filling dinner, left you in bed alone and cold and without him, entirely unequipped for this little life that had suddenly been placed in his hands. But you’d also scared him last night, out on the cliff, more scared than he’d been at the simple notion of you, that of losing you, like with the letter, the bidding pool and the threat of you being given away, there was something wrongly terrifying about it all, the sudden possibility of you not being with him. Scared into want, into wakefulness, perhaps. 

Out of the corner of his eye he watches you tip toe into the living room, making your slow exploration around, to the big window where you pause to watch the outside world for a long moment, palm splayed against the glass as if you could reach out and touch it all, pluck the world into the cup of your hand. Then to the fireplace, bending in half to peer into the hearth and watch the flames pop, the sofa next, where he’d brought out another stack of blankets. You’d start nesting soon, and he needs to make sure you have the things you’ll want. 

He watches as you bring the corner of one of the quilts to your nose, smelling the scent of him that lingers there, rubbing it against your face, and then moving to the stack of his sweaters he’d left beside, you bend to bury your face in the soft, worn wool. His heart thumps and thumps and thumps within him. You pull one blanket first, laying it before the warm hearth in the spot of rug he’d cleared for just this. And then another and another, some pillows on either side, sweaters tucked and stuffed between, starting to build your nest. He’s hard, knot tight and hot and ready, and he has to take a few steadying breaths, force himself to look away and pull the biscuits he’d made from the oven, flipping the gas on the stove off and pulling the eggs and sausages from the heat, grabbing the bowl of oatmeal he’d readied for you as he moves towards the bar. 

“I made you some oatmeal, c’mere,” he calls, voice graveled with strangling want, but he appreciates the look of bright curiosity you swing his way. He’s coming to realize he finds everything about you, everything you do, devastatingly arousing, even just a simple look, the shift of your jaw. He pulses beneath his jeans as you approach, remembering the leak of your cunt against the throb of his cock from earlier and wanting more of it already. 

He hoists you onto the bar stool when you reach him, he’d draped a folded throw over the hard curve so you’d have something soft to sit your sore little cunt on, and turning you to face him, he slots you between his spread thighs on his own stool, close as he can get you. You stretch towards the spread of food, and give a little sniff, scrunching your nose at him in distaste. 

“Don’t gimme that face. Look, whatever you want–” He shows you the eggs and sausages and the oatmeal. He’d wanted to give you options. “I put honey and milk and cinnamon in it. Berries–” He pulls the bowl of blackberries closer. “You’re gonna be a good girl and eat all of it, and I’m gonna sit here and watch you do just that. C’mon, sweet thing, do as I say.” You look at him suspiciously, but with those words, as if your obedience were a foregone conclusion when he asks the right way, you start to eat. Slow little kitten licks and sips from the spoon of honey milked oats, and he has to force himself to turn and not burn you with the intensity of his gaze, piling his own plate high with biscuits and gravy and eggs and sausages, gut roiling with hunger not for food, he forces himself to eat, one palm still gripped at the back of your stool right up against your ass. He needs to feel you, to keep you close, it’s all starting now. 

“Do you eat meat?” He asks, taking a bite of the savory and fatty sausage. You scrunch your nose again, nothing but wide eyes and a bout of sweet timidity now that your greedy cunt had gotten what it needed. “No? You wanna try?” You shake your head no, shrug that bare and tempting shoulder, end on a nod, leaning forward to take a small nibble of the meat from his own fork. Plush blossom mouth opening to slick itself against the metal where his own mouth had just been – his cock leaks. You chew slowly, thinking, come back for more. He pulls you even closer, tugging the stool loudly against the hardwood floor, feeding you from his own plate and hand, watching the shift of your jaw, the bright of your eyes as you enjoy all the food he’s made just for you, until his plate is clear, and he’s so fucking hard he feels faint – all the blood that’s supposed to be in his brain pooling at his groin.

He could feed you forever. He will. 

Picking at the blackberries now, carefully choosing the fattest and shiniest one first, he presents it to you, watching your eyes shift from the berry to his eyes back and forth until you finally decide to humor him, plucking at his wrist with two tiny fingers, only a quarter of him in your grasp to pull him towards you, and opening your mouth so that he can place it on the dip of your tongue. Your mouth purses around it, they're sweet and tangy this time of year, and your nose scrunches again at the sour zing, and you’re so– he can’t help himself. Joel feels like a fucking animal, wholly himself. He yanks you towards him, up into his lap, head wrenched back and fucking eats at you, licking into you, tasting the fruit on your tongue, swallowing it down his own throat along with your spit. It’s disgusting only because it’s not enough, only because he wants more. And you– you respond to him immediately, little warbling song of a different sort of hunger in your throat, hitching higher in his lap, pressing closer, tugging and clawing at him. 

He feels insane. He feels insane. 

It’s a difficult thing to want so much, to be so confronted by the depth of your desire, your nature, to hold it within the palm of your hand as he is now. 

You climb over him, moving to straddle his lap, to rub that needy cunt over his lap, ravenous huffs as you push and pull him this way and that, kissing his face, his ears, his neck, smelling his hair. He has to plant his bare feet wide, steadying himself to hold the two of you upright as you lose control a little bit. It’s almost time, it’s so near. 

He lets you do as you need, grinding against him, marking him with your scent; your inexperience obvious in your desperation. For the life of him, he can’t fathom what his excuse is. 

His hands slide over your knees, “Look’t what you’ve done,” he tuts, passing a ghosting thumb over the skinned little cap, adventure wound from last night, up your thighs, beneath the hem of the t-shrit, no fucking panties, fuck, his fingers slip against your slick covered thighs to grip the meat of your ass, slippery, pulling your ass cheeks apart to feel all that glorious wet sliding everywhere. He needs to calm down, but he pulls you tight against the pulse of his cock, grinds and grinds and pants up into your own open mouth. 

You’re staring down at him now, wide eyed, and your frantic movements slow, hands on either side of his face, fingers clutching at the curls that wrap around his ears. He slides one hand lower to cup your sex, the smooth and bare little palm-full of it, the other sliding up your back, over your shoulder and down your arm to grip and squeeze your wrist tight, your eyes flash, and then he moves to cup your little tit, pinching and twisting the soft puffiness of your nipple, smiling up at your little gasp, and tucks the tip of his index finger inside of you, just a crook of the first knuckle, just to feel you tremble around him. You gasp, oh, and he wants to tie you up in strings and play with you, make you whatever he wants at that moment. Yeah? Just like that? He whispers up at you, and he wants you to give him so many things and everything, and suddenly, the possibilities of him are endless, so much potential to be born from you. He wants to fuck you full and breed you and keep you forever, and he feels insane and finally soothed. 

It’s the rut starting, he knows, and it should be considered a cruelty to want something so much, but you only feel like a gift. 

You sigh a shaky little exhale that makes his stomach clench with how sweet it sounds, lashes fluttering shut at the feel of him breaching you just this little bit. He bends his head to bite at your nipple over the worn cotton of his shirt, keeping his eyes on yours, on the shocked look you’re wearing. He gives one sharp tug with his mouth, and then shoots back up to press one more swift, hard kiss to your open mouth. When he pulls his finger from your leaking hole, he gives your pussy a gentle pat, right on the clit.

“We gotta calm down,” he says slow, can hear the sticky splash of your cunt against his patting fingers. You nod your head, but shift your hips side to side, trying to find friction. “Told you we gotta time it right – take our time. Didn’t I?” But his hand provokes you still, looking up at you with all the wonder of a man coming across something he’d searched for all his life and yet, at the final moment of discovery, is still shocked. 

“You need to eat too,” you say shyly, fingers still twined around his ears, one single tip laid flat against his right gland, applying soft pressure, pulling away, tapping twice, applying pressure again. Your shared want in a clicking language. 

You slide off his lap, back to your own stool, but keep your knees hooked over one of his own thighs, two little feet pressed against the other, fingers still shifting in his hair, petting him while he piles his plate again and digs in. You touch him everywhere you can reach, tugging on his ears, hand smoothing over the muscles in his arms, poking the soft of his belly, gripping his jaw on either side to count his chews, and then palm cupping his throat to feel his swallows.  

He feels suddenly, desperately impatient for the heat to start in full, to spread you wide on the ground and fuck into your slicked, open cunt, to pump it full of his semen and tie you to him with his knot. To own you in a way that only the thing you are and the thing he is would allow. 

You stare at him intently, focused concentration, like you’re reading his mind, brows furrowed and chin tipped. 

“Can I help you?” He crooks a brow at you. 

You shake your head, staring him down, chin to sternum. “No– You eat so much.”

“M’hungry,” he mumbles around a forkful of eggs, desperate to fill that hollow concaved feeling in his gut he knows is ravenous for something other than just food. But you nod solemnly, as if it were a thing of the utmost importance.

“I understand,” you say very seriously, still nodding. 

He swallows, tipping his head to look at you. And he realizes you’re right, in the obvious way of all such designated things, that you do understand him, and perhaps, for reasons other than just that mere designation. And on the tail end of that realization, another: he feels suddenly, starkly, like a victim. A victim in the same way you were, are, would have been, would no longer be. That same white box, that same perilous ledge, both of you trapped between precarious truth and free will. Both of you the same, and sitting here, side by side, now free, as well. Even despite your ties to each other. Of course you understand each other, you’re the same.

“How ‘bout we go down to the beach?” And your eyes go bright as that glowing comet, immediately throwing your arms around his neck and taking a bite at his ear, excited as a puppy. 

Oh, please, please, please, yes. Yes, let’s go, you squeal and strangle him, almost rip his hair out of his head, but it feels good. It makes him feel real. 

-

He’d dressed you in too many stupid, stifling layers, buttoned to the chin. Long thermals beneath your jeans, a sweater, a large puffer jacket, two pairs of socks, ridiculous, scarf wrapped around your throat you’re sure he’d use as a leash to stop you from galloping so far ahead of him across the wet sand if you gave him the chance.  

You want to run naked and reckless and free down the cold, battered shoreline. 

Everything is gray, everything is dark and cold and wet and so very unlike you. But you feel like it all allowed you to shed that blanket of shyness you’d donned at breakfast, after the kiss. All this: vast and endless and huge in a way you’ll never be. It makes you feel, for some reason, very steadfast in your smallness. Like, look how large the world is, look how unending, look how the sea crashes and prepares to strangle anything that would fall into it. What does it matter, my size in the world, my significance, when faced with all this? I might as well just be. 

You turn back to look at where he meanders slowly in the imprinted path of your bootprints, laughter in your throat you can’t help, holding the pail he’d brought down for you to collect treasures out of the sand. The sky is angry, and from this distance, lashed by the wind as he is, he looks as small as you feel. This is comforting; the two of you are the same.

You are the same. 

Standing still, you wait patiently for him to reach you, rolling the laugh like a stone over the surface of your tongue, enjoying the hurt of the saltspray, the biting wind that penetrates all the layers he’d insisted on. Soon there’ll be no part of you left unpierced. 

And when he finally reaches you, he pauses but two steps away, and God, he has eyes like mirrors, staring down at you from his great height, and silently puts the pail out for you to drop the new additions for your hoard, a sparkling shard of blue green sea glass, a two halved clamshell, the inside: a star hued lavender, cream and silver glow. Surely what the flesh of a dream must look like were it to come alive. 

Your thoughts turn suddenly, you spit the laugh out into the world and watch as it jars him, remembering how you’d read once, in all the many things you’d read in your many years of not life, that when a chest is split open during a traumatic emergency, that the procedure of splitting both halves of the sternum and ribs is called a clamshell thoracotomy. The process allows for access to both sides of the thoracic cavity – full exposure. 

And you can’t, for the life of you, explain why the thought comes into your mind now, staring at that little purple dream as you watch it fall from your sand wet fingertips into the pail he holds poised for you, but you’re sure that whatever the connection might be, it lies only with the idea that you’re prepared for him to do the same to you, that you’re ready for anything when it comes to him.  A splitting, a keeping – what more could be done to a creature used to only half measures? Half life, not life, half omega – not mated, full omega – mated. The intricacies of it all no longer matter, only the yes or no. 

“Will you still send me away?” He’d said he’d changed his mind, but you still ask anyways, voice sliding over the screaming of the sea, throwing him off kilter. You want to hear the words. It’ll storm soon, the waves tell of this by the way they throw themselves against the sea stacks. Poor things, you think, nothing but beaten. 

But you’re not like that. Let him say what he will, you feel buoyant and helpless and completely uncaring. 

And he’s very silent for a long moment, chewing on the possible rejection that you’ll spit right back at him if need be. But then: “Don’t you want your own life?” He asks, and his tone makes you pause, the look in his eyes makes you pause for the fear in it all, for the trepidation it’s made up of. You tilt your head at him this way and that, inspecting him very closely, reading him for all he’s worth. You wonder if he realizes how transparent he’s suddenly become to you. All his hurts, faults, strengths, nature, revealed to you with one question. 

Choice.

He’s asking you what you want. 

“Can’t I make a life here with you?” You counter. 

“Wouldn’t you like to see the world as only yourself?”

Further clarity – the marrow of all he is: afraid. 

You go very soft on the inside, all you are in light of all he is. “I already am myself, Joel.” The sea lashes and howls, his name off your tongue does the same. “Can’t you understand that? This is me, this is what I am.”

He frowns so darkly at that, “I do understand, but I–”

And you step to him, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands, size dwarfing you, fear not: “No. You don’t. But it’s okay, I’m going to show you,” and you turn to continue your path along the water, secure in your certainty now that he’ll follow regardless of anything else. 

Joel wants you to have choices. You’d failed to realize this before, you’d seen only his withholding. 

He moves alongside you after a while, after you’ve allowed him a moment of consideration, idling patiently while you dig through the sand, crouching down to hunt for shells and rocks and glass, fingers wriggling deep beneath the freezing cold sand to feel the burn of it. And after a distance longer, and with much bravery, you clasp two of his too big fingers in your sand crusted fist and hold his hand as you walk together, gently leading him down the path you choose, and he’s so grumpy, and you can’t help but be endeared. 

“I think that's the end of the world out there,” you say, pointing to that stopping point where your eyes won’t go any further.

 He looks out at the sea, eyes stopping as far as the world allows, swings back to your face. And you clutch at his arm, pressing your cheek against his bicep, taking in his scent which has deepened and swelled and grown a body within the last hours – the musked cardamom of him – staring out at all that immensity, personification of all you feel for him, this want that is violent and grown teeth, that exists as nature exists. This want that, yes, perhaps you did not choose, but is still what you want, is still what’s right. 

“The sea is so beautiful, and I’m so happy to be here.” No, you don’t want to go out and find another life. You want to find life here. 

You already have. 

When you turn your face up to his again, he’s staring down at you with that strange look from before, but changed now too. Devouring. No one has ever looked at you like this, and you don’t think anyone else besides him ever will. It’s only him, you see, with eyes like mirrors that reflect back your shared sameness. 

“Is that what you came out here for? To find the end of the world? To hide?” You don’t care if you shouldn't ask, you don’t care about any of the things you shouldn’t do, only about what you want in this moment here and now. 

Selfish, selfish, selfish. Yes.

“What does it matter?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “But it does.” It means everything.

He doesn’t respond, only more of that unfathomable look. You don’t care about this either, let him have his silence like a weapon or a punishment. 

“How old are you?” You ask now, realizing that no one had ever told you, that you’d never even cared to ask – bad of you. But not that it would have mattered or made a difference. 

“Too old. Old enough to be your father.” And this makes you angry, sparking angry. Your father – you’d had a father. A stranger father, but still yours. Joel is not that. So, this is anger like Leo’s. Anger at his offhandedness, anger at your own want, despite his words that sit like rust over your skin, anger at the violence of your own want. 

You fight to swallow it, roll your eyes at him. Insist: “How old?” 

“Forty eight.” And he says it like an admission of guilt, which you snort at blithely. 

You flash two held up fingers at him twice, mouthing the words, twenty two. 

His gaze is sad again, and you rub his arm gently, soothing. “I know.” 

And yes, you think, he surely knows so much, but not everything. “I’m not anything else but what I am, you know? What I want to be.”

“Too young–”

You ignore him, voice insistent, “And neither are you.” You turn to face him full on now, taking two steps away so you’re not forced to crane your neck up at him, he cants towards you as if he can’t bear the distance. Nature: he surges toward it hungrily, and just as quickly, surges away. The wind buffets his scent against you, washes you in it. “You can’t make me any of these things you’d thought I’d be. I’m only what I am, and you’re only what you are. Whatever the rest of it is you want to force, or the world wants to force, or the white box says I should be– I don't give a fig for any of that.” You swipe your hand in a cutting gesture through the salted air, and he looks like he might smile first, lands on a flinch instead. “I am not ornamental, Joel.” 

And he flinches again, jarred by his name, but then seems to remember himself, to be reminded of himself by the sound of it, and musters his strength, tightens his seams and says, “‘Nd I’m not here for you to impose yourself on. I’m going to make my own choices.”

“So will I,” you say slowly, and you suddenly want to cry. “So do I. This,” you, “Is my choice because I’m also an omega.” You suck in a tremulous breath. That truth, like a sea between the two of you. You’d thought he’d seen, understood, that he wouldn't have touched you as he had this morning, as no one else ever had, if he didn’t understand the gravity of that. “And if I’m not scared of that, you shouldn't be either.”

He swallows once, twice, devastated mask in place. He looks so forlorn, bearing a weight beyond his years on his shoulders. He turns out to face the water and asks it, “But what about what I want?” Not what he needs.

You close the two steps of distance, pressing against his side, circling his thick wrist in both of your hands, feeling the weight and strength of the bone beneath fevered skin. His sweater is thick, cable knit, soft and worn, a tiny fray at the edge of the sleeve, and a deep navy color, layered over a blue green flannel. No jacket again, he’d donned the colors of the sea instead, but you know now that he isn’t cold. It’s almost time. 

You’d felt so shy after this morning, as you’d walked out to face him in the light of day, sat in his lap and kissed him, newly made, newly minted. Now, you feel as if you know everything you could ever need to know about everything there is to know about you and him. 

“What about what you want? What do you want? Tell me,” you beg. “Say it out loud so we can both hear the truth of it no matter what it costs you.”

“Sweetheart, please,” he begs for mercy, looking down at you again, standing within the confines of your shackle, something further than devastation on his face now. Something like shedding years against your will, going back in time, stepping within a vehicle that would take you to the worst of it all, that point at the end of the world which he already stands on. 

The two of you feel, very much, like two unexploded bombs, existing with great care beside each other. 

The highs of his cheekbones and the tip of his nose are cold reddened, wind lashed, curls damp from the spray of the waves, burning with that dogged nature he fights and fights and fights. And he’s such a part of the world, standing here like this, tall and broad and vital. You want to be like that too, you think, large in a changing way. And he’s strong, strong in a way other creatures aren’t, strong in a way you aren’t. 

But weak in others. 

You release his wrist, forgo the shackle, remain in place. There’s a desperate plea coming from either of you, which though, you’re not entirely sure. 

And then suddenly, and you can’t even be sure from where it comes from because really, if you’re the most honest you can be, you know nothing of this thing. “Have you ever been in love?”

He goes so still that the sea seems to grow more violent in comparison, an offset to his freeze. “Yes. I have.”

“Will you–” swallow your fear, be the brave girl, “Will you ever love me?” You must ask. There’s no other recourse for you in this, you want all of it or nothing.

He bends to you suddenly, getting right in your face, cold nose to cold nose, teeth bared, animal. “I am selfish and jealous and cruel. And I will keep you in a strangle. Do you understand that? Can you even understand what it’ll mean to belong to me? To belong to a thing like this? Yes, I will love you.” So then there’s nothing else to care about. He spins away from you, paces, paces, “I’ve– I… fuck–” fights the dog fight – you wonder how long he’s waged it for, maybe his whole life – turns back to face you, and there’s the look of a boy now too, like Leo, lost and angry and faced with what he is in an insurmountable, unwinnable way. We are what we are, truth impossible to ignore. 

And then finally, fight lost, his face does a funny thing, a strange fracture and decision happening across the canvas of it, all at once. “I used to be a father. I used to have a daughter,” he tells you. 

Entirely unexpected. Entirely terrifying. “Used to?” You take an urgent step toward him, use an urgent tone, the memory of your aunt and of would-be parents flashes in your mind. You don’t want him to say what you know he’s about to say. “Where is she?” You aren’t so naive.

“Sarah,” and he says her name with so much love. “She died.”

You shake your head no, tears swept away with the wind, freezing salted on your lashes. “No,” you say again, louder. 

“When the outbreak happened – in the confusion. We were attacked ‘cause of what I was,” and he shakes his head once, hard and fast as if trying to jostle the confusion out of his mind, or perhaps knock it back into coherence, “Am,” voice limp at the end.

And then he’s the one coming to you, taking you up into his hold, cradling you more gently than the world could ever imagine a thing like him capable of. He finally understands what you are, you can feel it in the way he holds you. “Oh, no, Joel,” you cry into his neck, hugging him to yourself, pulling his head down to rest on your shoulder. “Oh, no. Oh, no.” Your poor alpha. Your poor alpha, he’d been so alone, so hurt and so afraid, and you realize now that you’ll have to be strong for the both of you, that you need to help him in ways only you can, that you need to be strong when he can't. And there’s only sameness here, of the most important sort. Both of you together, equal. When one could not, the other would. 

It’s obvious the way all truths are. 

“If I care for another thing…”

“I understand,” you tell him. It’s obvious the way all truths are: he’s afraid. 

You kiss his face, cup his ears to warm them, bring one of his too big, rough hands to your mouth, pressing your lips to his knuckles, letting him know you’re here now to protect him in the ways he’d never been and had always needed and would never want for again. 

-

He pulls you against himself in a hurt lock, tight enough he lifts you straight off your feet, face buried in your hair, teeth at your neck, biting hard enough you let out a bay of hurt. He can’t explain it, but there is so much care in the words you choose to wield against him, so much wisdom despite the innocent naivety, a clarity about the way you see him and all the rest of the world that sends him into such existential vertigo, makes him want to take a bite out of you so that he might swallow some of that innocence, some of that wisdom down for himself. An honesty about you that gives him no choice but to choose that which he knows he’s always wanted but has never let himself need. 

“I understand,” you’re whispering, letting him savage your throat as he needs. “But everything is going to be okay now–” a moan of pain, “–that we have each other, don’t you see that? We’ll take care of each other.”

He digs his teeth deeper at the fine tendon in your neck, and then slides his tongue up and over your gland, tasting the leak of pheromones there. It’s time now, he can feel it pulse and beat, glowing bright within you. He had been stupid and carelessly blind. He’d been a liar. “I see now – I see. It’s alright, sweetheart. Don’t cry. I’m alright now.” But you wrap your arms around his head, comfort and cradle him, and he has to have you with a desperation that brandishes teeth and boils. 

He shoves you back by your hips, keeping his grip on you steady, and turns to push you back down the beach the way in which you’d come. “Home. Now.” But you push back against him, rubbing your ass against the heft of his cock, presenting him with that cunt that belongs to him. 

“No. Here.” It’s a demand, you have an instinct for this. 

“Absolutely not,” but he’s gripping your hips hard enough to bruise anyways, grinding against you, tension vibrating his too big body, as if he were actually considering it, taking you here and now. 

Please.

“You’d let me knot you right here on the beach with the whole ocean and God watchin’?”

“Yes. Yes, I don’t care.” You try and turn in his arms, head craning back, hungry mouth seeking his own lips.

The insanity of the fever. Now, omega, he rumbles, and there’s no mistake in the burr of his tone, his nature on display, loud and clear – an alpha ordering his omega back to her nest so that he might have her there. He shoves you forward gently, setting you on your way, and picks up your pail full of treasures to stalk after his own. He takes in the sparkle of seaspray like gems in your hair as he follows, the shiver of your frame beneath the too many ridiculous layers he’d forced you into, the stumbling of your feet as you turn back to spy him hunting after you.  There’s wet on your face, and he doesn’t know if it’s the salt of your tears or the salt of the sea, and he wonders if when he drags his tongue across it he’ll be able to tell the difference. He’s sure he will. 

Your scent like a leash leads him, stronger and fuller and warm enough to burn. His gut is tight and aching, cock so hard he feels he can barely stand up straight. He’s sure he can smell the pouring of your slick from your finally readied cunt, the bloom of it obvious in the air around you, juniper berries everywhere – something warmer, spiced vanilla, earth. It’s so good he wants to swallow it down like liquid, drink from your well. 

He follows and follows, and if you weren’t already at the end of the world, he’d follow you there too. Up the stone steps etched into the cliffside, the steep incline sending you to huff and puff in strain. He’d feed you more, make you strong, feed you his cock and fill your belly with his come like honey. His breaths are bullish, bursting out in white clouds of steam, his neck hot and damp, skin boiling beneath his clothes. 

You keep turning back nervously, your left hand stretching back as if to reach for him, and then speeding up again in agitation, going as fast as your much shorter legs can take you compared to his. But he measures himself, lets you get there in your own moment, and eventually, he’s pushing open the cabin’s front door and shoving you inside, forgetting to measure his strength, lost in his delirium as he is, so that you’re stumbling, being snapped back like a rubber band with his fist wrapped in the back of your jacket. 

He rips it down your arms, uncoils the scarf, pulls the sweater over your head, hair a mess, all disoriented and malleable, and yanks you back and into his chest, heaving you up into his arms so that he can clamp his teeth at your throat again, laving his tongue over your gland, slicking you in his spit, sucking hard at the patch of skin, the burst of flavor on his tongue now, bubbling, carbonated almost, so strong his knees buckle and his cock is surely leaking a stream of precum down his leg. So fucking sweet, he’s growling, murmuring like a madman, grinding his erection into the lush of your ass, fingers sneaking under your shirt to squeeze hard and tight at your little tits. Your belly is a ball of embering fire, like you’d swallowed a comet, and he presses down on it gently, hand low on your pelvis over where your little womb is, this place he’s about to fuck full of his spend. 

“The way you smell – your scent – I’ll go fucking crazy, I swear I will.” His voice sounds not his – coming from some source outside of his body, ringing hollowly in his head empty of everything else except you. 

It’s started, it’s started, it’s started. 

You’re full of glorious heat, and he soothes at the soft swell of your belly with gentle circles, hand sliding down to cup the little palm-full of your cunt, rubbing back and forth over your jeans, and then goes to his knees behind you, pawing at the button, ripping them down your legs along with the leggings he’d forced you into beneath them, panties and all; the popping of seams – his or the clothes he can’t be sure. He traps you in the tangle, leaving them around your ankles, boots still on and takes a too sharp, too aggressive bite of your ass cheek, leaving teeth marks, leaving Joel marks, enjoys the sound of your baying that ends on a shocked little squeak, a little ah, ah, ah. He grips your asscheeks too tightly and spreads them wide, watching the delicious little wink of your holes provoking him, and licks the broad flat of his tongue from cunt to asshole, finally, fucking finally tasting you. 

He’s entirely lost to his madness from that moment forward.

He licks your ass again, again, pushes you forward to deepen the arch of your spine to eat at you better, and you mewl, whine, Joel, I’ll fall, but he can’t find it in himself to care. “Fall,” he tells you, “I’ll catch you.” But he spins you in his hands, fast and stumbling, trapped as you are, to face him on his knees before you as he is, as he should be, and you’re so small, morsel sized, perfect for swallowing whole, and open mouthed, he inhales at the mound of your cunt, tongue swiping out to find your clit swollen already. 

You smell like nothing he can describe, too delicious to allow him the choice of clear thought. He pulls you down to the ground, rips your boots and pants the rest of the way off, and right there on the floor by the front door, he spreads your legs wide and eats your cunt. 

Eats it. 

Nothing gentle or restrained about it as he probably should, this being your first time a man licks your pussy, small and innocent as it is, he fucks his tongue inside your shaky hole, sucks hard and sharp on yor clit, your first orgasm, sensitive as you are, trembling through you already. More, more, more, he wants more. He hunches over you like the beast he is, tiny thing, pulls you up, palm cupping your bottom, one knee knocking against his ear, the other leg splayed wide, sliding down his arm, so he can suck, suck, lick at your clit, a gentle kiss as a prize for taking it so well, and then his tongue is back into your cunt to taste the river of slick you’re spilling just for him. Your flavor, so musk heavy, sweet and thick like honey; he feels full and set to burst, no more hollow pit. And he wants more, to gorge and gorge like a glutton. You come again, a splash against his tongue, so wet you’re slipping and sliding in his grip. He can hear your high pitched cries and whines, your Joel, Joel, Joel’s he shushes, soothes with his tongue, little kiss to your little clit that pulses against his mouth. 

“Y’taste so fuckin’ good, baby.” He lets you down, crawling over you, pushing your shirt up to get at your tits, sucking and biting hard enough to hurt. He wants you to feel it all for days after the heat’s over, to leave marks, to make sure he’s left in your skin forever. Forcing your jaw wide, he slicks his tongue along yours, feeds you the taste of your own cunt, salty, sweet, his, and you take it so well, half limp and yet still clinging to him weakly, two orgasms forced on your virgin pussy back to back. 

He scoops you up, belly to belly, spider limbs around his neck and waist, grabby hands yanking at his hair like you’re angry he’s not put you on his knot yet. His knees pop, his back aches something fierce as he heaves the two of you up, muscles in his thighs bulging to support you – he’s fucking old – and walks you over to your nest, setting you down on your back, spreading your knees wide, cunt ripe and blooming, so red, a wound of all the world says you’re meant to be.

Slicking his thumb over the soaked curve of it there’s a sticky string of omega drool that leaves him connected to you when he pulls back. He presses again at your swollen clit, thinks he can almost see the pulse of your rushing blood beat here at your spread cunt, slides down to the tiny winking hole and circles his finger there, giving you the slightest pressure, pressing in a tiny bit, up again to tease your clit. 

“I’m gonna fuck this soft little hole until it’s so full of my come I don’t fit inside no more. Would you like that, sweet baby?” He asks so gently, don’t spook the fawn, don’t spook the beast. 

Your eyes are fevered, face covered in a shine of sweat, your belly glows with heat, and you nod slowly, little smile playing tricks with him whispering across your face. His hands slide up, circle your waist, squeeze and squeeze and squeeze as if he could watch you burst, witness all that heat explode like a comet, then further up to your chest, two big hands covering two little tits.

“You’re so pretty, little omega.” And you preen, you glow, suffused with such vulnerable, honest pleasure. Joel has to be so careful, he has to be so good for you. He will be. You circle one of his wrists, tender little hand, fingers of vapor, he has to be so good for you, he has to be so careful. Again, remember, remember. He bends to press a soft kiss to the pretty tip of each nipple. 

“They’re too small,” you whisper in an even smaller voice. 

“No. No, baby, no.” He presses another kiss, drags his teeth over a peak, sucks on the other, switching back and forth. “They’re fucking perfect, so pretty and so soft. I love them– I’m fuckin’ obsessed with you.” He opens his jaw wide and takes the whole soft mound of it into his mouth, sucking on the whole thing of it. He probably shouldn’t say such things, he doesn’t give a fuck. “Look–” he says around the little globe, “Whole thing fits in my mouth.” He bites some more, kisses some more, sucks on them until you’re whining and pushing him away, until they’re sore and stinging and still he doesn't stop. He shows you just how obsessed he is.

He kisses you all over, your belly, your waist, the soft spot beneath your ribs, your thighs, and the pulse between your collarbones. Slow, slow. He has to be slow and gentle and patient for as long as his looming rut allows, he needs to ease you into this. Taking an ankle first in one hand, he presses a kiss to the gland just there on the inside of it, suckles a little, then the other, and watches as your cunt becomes more and more needy and swollen, red as a bloom, until you’re so desperate for it you’re writhing around wantonly in the nest of blankets, almost entirely lost to your fevered delirium, but not just yet, not just yet. 

“Will you– will you put your big thing inside me now?” You slur innocently.

And he laughs gently, a tenderness pinching his heart which if he was less lost to himself, he might cry for. “My big thing?”

Oh, please. “Please, I– I think– please, I think I really need it now.” You twist this way and that, pulling the blankets up to your face to hide yourself away. 

“Almost, sweetheart. Almost.” But he feeds you two of his fingers then, playing in your slick, the sticky wound of softness, and crooks his fingers to wedge them just inside of you. “Like that– oh, isn’t that nice?” He croons, pressing a little further in, feeling the stretch of you around him. Your eyes go wide and shocked, your back arching in a taught curve, hips opening for him to sink deeper until he’s palm to cunt. He leans over you, watching the place where his hand disappears inside and hooks his fingers, petting at the textured little place at the front of you, so, so sensitive. You keen loudly, a warbled sound that’s all fucking his. His control is so close to snapping. 

He pulls his fingers from your cunt suddenly, watches how it shudders while you screech at the loss, looking up to search for him with bleary eyes as he rips his shirt and sweater up over his head, and then he’s pressing his two fingers back inside, thrusting into you a little harder, the splash and slap of your cunt as he fucks in and out of your tight hole. “Perfect little thing that's all mine.” He has nothing but praise for you, his good girl, taking him so well. 

He pets and pets at that soft spot, molten heat pouring from your cunt, and when he starts to shake his hand, a little jiggle to knock your next orgasm loose inside of you, you give it up so, so nicely. Pussy going tight as a fucking fist, strangling his fingers, and then spilling loose and soaked, flooding his hand. When the contractions of your little womb have abated he stuffs a third finger in, forgoes some of that gentleness, and pressing a hand low on your pelvis, he shakes his hand hard and fast inside of you. “Want’cha to fuckin’ soak me,” he grits through clenched teeth, head slightly dizzy, slightly faint with want. And with pressure both from the inside and out, you do. Gush of come following your high pitched moan, tears soaking your hairline as much as your pussy just soaked the lap of his jeans. He pulls his fingers from your gaping hole, bends to lick through all that glorious omega slick and swipes his fingers through it from side to side, tapping on your clit harshly, slapping it a little, sucking on it again, fast, fast his fingers from side to side, forcing you into just one more little climax before he lets you rest. 

You’re all twisted in the blankets, face turned and buried in the pillows. He crawls up over you, contorted as you are, cunt splayed wide and pulsing, and unbuttons his jeans as he goes, finally, fucking finally letting his raging cock free. It hurts, it needs you so fucking badly, leaving a sloppy trail of drool slicked along the already wet curve of your belly as it drags heavily against you, bobbing obscenely from his open zipper. He buries his face in your neck, kissing and licking up the taste of you, sucking on your gland. 

“Please, please now. Please, now,” you keep mumbling into the blankets where you’re hiding. Please, now. Begging for his cock and his knot, so ready to take your first fucking like the perfect omega you are. 

“Not yet,” he soothes, petting your hair back from your steaming face, pressing a kiss to your sweaty hairline. Please, you whine high, and he lets his cock rest heavily against the curve of your red cunt, slicking it there, dragging it back and forth, giving you both the weight of what you’ll have so soon. You kick one leg out weakly. “Not yet, it’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he pitches his voice low, soothing, gathers you to himself. “Let’s rest a little. No, no – just for a little bit,” he says over your whines and cries. You cling to him weakly, hips rocking against him. “I know, baby. I know,” he hums, letting you rub your sticky, sore cunt against the wide head of his cock, nothing but a boneless little mass of omega, stuck to him with tears and slick and sweat. 

He rolls over with you on top of him, the brand of your cunt enveloping his erection between swollen lips, and his knot is ready to pop, it fucking hurts, his rut is near too. But he can tell you just need a little more time – a few more hours to soften and ripen just that little bit more, to lose yourself a little bit more so that he might fit himself inside of you, his too big body in your too little one. 

He gets up eventually, shucking his jeans, and getting a glass of water to force you to take, and leaves the large, cold glass near for when you’ll need it again with all the slick you’re producing. So much that it runs down your thighs, slides up your back and all over him and the blankets and everywhere; everything sticky and heady with your scent. This is, he thinks, right before he succumbs to sleep too, head and balls throbbing from not having come yet, the most singular way an omega claims ownership over an alpha. That scent like a shackle that would keep them together at all times, that scent that after long enough, is impossible to be without. He buries his face in your hair and breathes deep, letting your smell move through him like a tangible thing, a kaleidoscope through his mind until he finally falls asleep. 

-

Your hips move in a slow rocking swing over his belly, slicking the curve of it, making the hair covering him here clump sticky and soaked in this stuff that will not stop coming out of you. There’s so much, and you feel so empty, your head, your head is full of nothing but heat and bubbles and a throb that glows, and you don’t know why, but– oh, finally, he’s waking up. Yes, yes, alpha, wake up now. 

He shifts and rumbles deep in his chest, and you feel his big thing poke you in the butt; it’s so heavy and so thick and it smells so good. You’d sniffed it, and you’d tasted it a little too when you’d first woken up, but you need to make sure to remember to taste it more later again because it had been so yummy, and long too. You can’t understand how it’ll fit, but you’re sure you’ll make it somehow. And it has a funny soft bit of skin at the end, and thick veins that pulse under the warm, incredible softness that covers it. 

His left arm stretches out and over his head, he’s thick here too, big muscles under his skin that’s so burning hot it hurts to touch and feels good all at the same time. He has a dark vein that runs from his shoulder over the bulging muscle, and you’d tasted that too, then pressed your face into his hairy armpit to sniff him there also; gone all drunk and light headed at the scent.  You rock harder; the little nub at the front of your cunt – it belongs to him – it hurts and it’s swollen and when you press your fingers to it, it has a little tiny heartbeat that you’re sure beats to the sound of his name, Joel, alpha, Joel, alpha, and everything is so, so hot. 

You whine that sound you know he likes, the one that you know provokes him, rubbing your slippery cunt all over his stomach, grinding and sliding against him, trying to make the throb go deep and hard again like he’d made you do with his mouth. And oh, he’s so– he makes you so upset, and you feel big and little all at once, and that stretched soreness of your cunt, it’s all his fault, and the bruising around your nipples too, and he needs to put it inside. 

He stretches again, blinks open slowly, long lashes, dimple beside the corner of his mouth, and you dig your nails into the hard muscles of his chest, dragging your blunt edged fingernails down his skin as you slide lower, over his big cock – that’s what it’s called, and you love the sound of the word, think it sounds how you imagine it’ll feel, cock – and try to put it inside, shifting and rolling over it, trying to impale yourself on it. It’s so heavy, and you know the heaviness will make the hurt inside you, the bruised feeling inside you, go away, if only he’d just do it. 

You huff at him, cry a little, whine a lot, try and make it go inside again, slipping and sliding in all the slick that won’t stop coming out of you all while he blinks slow and patient at you, a little smile on his face, and he’s so pretty he makes you so, so upset. You bend forward suddenly and bite his nipple hard, yank on the hairs on his chest and thighs. Hard enough to hurt. He grunts, but lets you, only twinning his fingers in your hair tightly, letting you chew on him until you’ve released his skin on your own. 

“You upset with me ‘cause I haven’t fucked you yet? You gettin’ impatient with me?” You huff at him. “Think you’re ready, sweet thing?” Oh, please, please, please. 

You know that you’ve never been more ready for anything in your entire life. 

He rolls you over, spreading you wide to play with your cunt again, and you start crying for real. “It hurts, alpha, please. It hurts, and I glow.'' It's so hot everywhere. 

“You’re full in your heat now, baby. Don’t worry – knot’s gonna make you feel all better. You’re gonna be so full.” And his voice is so soft and deep and hard too, all at once. It floats away and it comes back, and he sounds like all the things and all the sounds that can have ever existed in the whole world, and also, just right enough to let you remember, only for a second, very calmly and in a moment of bright clarity, that you’d always known he’d come to fix it all. This is only the last part of that at last. 

“My brave girl,” and he pauses a beat above you, between your spread thighs, his cock hanging heavy, tip-slicked between his thighs, giving you a sticky kiss every time it bobs against your tummy. He drags the pad of his thumb at the hollow beneath your eye, catching fallen salt water there, only of desire, not the sad sort, you know the difference so very well by now. And his own eyes, they’re so dark, so full of all that heat that’s so chock full inside you too, but also different, something like cool and serene and full of knowing, full of patience. Eyes like mirrors. The two of you are the same. 

He wraps his big hand around his ever bigger cock, and smears the tip against your swollen, needy sex, pressing hard at the aching nub, sliding down and pressing hard at the bruised little hole. You growl an impatient quipping noise at him, but he returns it in kind, deeper, scarier, full of an order to settle. 

“We have to go slow,” he says, “It won’t fit just like that.”

But you rock your hips in hitching jerks anyways. “No, I’ll make it fit,” you promise, clawing at his chest to achor yourself, find the right angle, find relief. 

He shakes his head, continues to smear and press against you, and then oh, oh, oh, he’s just there, first a big stretch like from the morning, and it hurts, it burns, but not as bad as being without, and you make a sound like you’ve never made before, feeling a feeling you’ve never felt before and had waited your whole life and a year for. Inside, please, please, inside, alpha. He feeds you himself, makes the heat brighter, fans the flames and soothes them all at once, and oh, it really does hurt and feel so good. 

He’s panting like a bull above you, sweating and groaning, and the sounds he makes, the sounds he makes, rough and wounded, like you’re wounding him, like you have the power to wound a great thing like him. “Ain’t that so fucking good?” He coos and croons and pets at you, feeds you and feeds you and feeds you. It’s so big and it splits you, cleaves you wide and forces you into the place and thing you’d lived your whole life waiting to be. “Look at my girl,” he’s saying, “Look how well my little girl takes my big cock in her tiny cunt.”

He pushes a little more, touches a thing inside of you that is swollen and bruised and so sensitive, and, “Oh, you’re in my belly,” you gasp when he finally stops pushing in. You cup your hand over your tummy, pressing down. “I can feel you,” there are tears slipping form the corners of your eyes, and your cunt feels so full it’ll burst or swallow him whole or a little of both, “I can feel you from outside.” You press down harder, rub over the bulge of him inside you; a cock in your belly under your palm. 

So good, just like that, he’s murmuring and you close your eyes to better listen to the dip and hum of his voice. “I am. I am – gonna fill your little womb. And we’re gonna do it just like this for now,” he starts to move, “Just half so you’ll let me in all the way.”

“There’s so much,” you hitch, breath quivering, chin trembling, tears leaking, cunt leaking even more. 

I know, I know, he rubs your belly, soothes you so well, rocks and rocks and rocks, a cock rocking inside of you. He kisses your jaw and your shoulder and your breast, and then changes something, and you finally open your eyes. He touches something so raw inside of you, something that screams and sings and throbs, and there’s something going swollen inside. He’s so beautiful, silver streaked, creased, lines over his forehead, alongside his eyes, his whole life painted in roadmaps and metallic patterns across him. Other places slicked and wet, red and flushed and sun touched, and you make him look like this, and then he presses the swollen thing again, and it bursts. Your cunt flutters, goes so tight it hurts, forces more tears out of your eyes, you claw at him, your body feels not your own, only his. Oh, fuck yes. Good girl. Fucking come for me. For him, for him, for him. 

You shiver and shiver, there’s only hot air and the rocking cock in your belly, the heartbeat inside of you everywhere, and when he finally presses once more, finds the end of the world inside you, he’s all the way in, making a sound that you’ll have to force out of him for the rest of forever; a perfect sound. He tugs you up onto his thighs, sits up, belly to belly and heart to heart and glow to glow, and he fucks you like he said he would. Hard. You finally understand what it means. His cock punches the bruised thing that lives inside, that has you keening a wounded sort of noise, clawing at him, mouth searching for his gland, sliding across his clavicle, up his neck until it’s there, swollen and throbbing and it tastes so, so good you can’t help it when you sink your teeth into the softness of it, the salted rust of his blood sliding over your tongue, down your throat and into your belly like a promise. He makes that glorious sound again, and he fucks you so rough it hurts in only the way fucking a man so much larger than you can hurt. He splits your cunt wide and ruts into you like a beast, and you take it because you want it, because you were made for it, because it’s so right. And you suck on the pierced gland, swallow the taste of him and when a pressure worse than what you could have ever imagined starts to swell within your battered and bruised opening, he pulses and pulses and spills inside of you, filling your womb like he’d said he was going to also. 

Then there is his knot, finally, within you. “Again, baby. Come on my knot, sweetheart. You’ll feel so much better if you do.” And he’s right, as you shiver into it once more with only his command to prompt you, his knot swollen like a lock, connecting you together, it soothes the bruise and the heat from the inside out. He rips your teeth from his neck by your hair, swallows your protests, tasting his own blood on your tongue as he comes inside of you, fills you with a heat more potent than anything the glow had ever made you feel. 

When you fall together like felled weeds, knot tugging gently, mewl falling from your lips, he soothes you so patiently while he continues to spill inside of you, all plugged up as you are, belly set to burst full of semen. He suckles at your nipples, bites and pinches and makes them hurt, and you can do nothing but let him do as he pleases. And you don’t sleep this time, for the throbbing is so strong inside of you, his soft groans sometimes turned to whimpers so wonderful you need to be awake to listen to them forever.

 There’s nothing of the not life anymore, there’s only him here with you. 

He does sleep though, after a while, or he goes very still and very quiet. His lashes quiver and his eyes move beneath their lids as if he were watching a dream, and his body steams and shudders, but eventually, the knot softens enough that you can shift and wiggle over him, and his eyes flash open, predator gaze zeroing on the little omega trying to leave her trap, he presses a big hand down on your tailbone, grinding your cunt that feels raw and full and bruised and right against his pelvic bone. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” Voice a deep burr. 

You give him a shy, appeasing look, nuzzling his belly, his thick pectoral and shift and shimmy up towards his face, feeling the heavy weight of him fall wetly from your bruised sex. It stings and flutters madly, clenching around the too large space he’d made inside you. Shuffling up on your knees, you peck at his chin, his mouth, suck on his lip. And when you look down between the two of you, there’s a puddle of thick white semen slowly drooling from between your legs onto his belly. 

You shuffle down now, licking up the mixture of slick and sweat and come, tasting the crease between his thigh and pelvis. You move lower, and resting your head on his thigh, you mouth at his cock, wet and slobbering, pressing a kiss, tasting the flavor of your cunt. 

“I feel so lovely,” you sigh dreamily, pressing another kiss.

He groans low, “A little more tongue– there you go. Oh, fuck– omega, that’s so good.” He threads his fingers through your hair. “It’s because you’re full of everything I just gave you. You’ll need more soon.”

You open your mouth wider, try to swallow him down, enjoying how his come slips out of you, making the tops of your thighs, your ankles you’re sitting on, all sticky wet. All mine, you mumble around his thick length, and his answering laugh is so vital, oh, everything really is so wonderful. He tugs you up by the roots of your hair, jaw hanging wide and spit slick so he can stick two big fingers in there and rub at the slimy surface of your tongue, grunts a hungry sound. 

-

He pushes you back, hand still fisted in your hair to spread you wide and inspect the wreckage he’d left between your thighs. “Lemme see–” he murmurs. “Look at how red and swollen you are, baby. Little cunt’s all fucked open.” He gently scoops his come back inside, smearing it along your cunt. 

Ah– Ah– You protest when he presses his fingers inside to feel the slip of his semen along your walls. Poor, baby, he coos. His cock stirs at your little sounds of hurt, soaked as it is, streaked with come and slick and a little pink tinge of blood. The sight makes him fully hard again. “You did so well, first time taking a knot. It’ll be easier next one.” You writhe and arch as he pets your cunt, spreading your legs wider despite your limp sounds of protest. Head rolling back against the blankets, you grip your tits in both hands and squeeze, whimpering at that too. 

When you lift your head to look down at them, lifting the two little handfuls in your palms to take in the sight of your chafed, swollen nipples your eyes go wide. “Look’t what you did to them – they hurt now.” And although he’s sure you intend to sound like you’re cross, the moan you end on, the way you’ve begun to rock your hips, tells of different things. 

“My poor girl, lemme kiss ‘em.” He stretches over you, taking your hands away to press a barely there kiss to the tip of each breast. “Poor little tits – poor little pussy too, all split open.” And he bends to kiss your blood tinged cunt, the flavor of lost innocence and come on his lips. 

He kisses you again, nibbles on your thighs, and your eyes are hazy, fever full, and you sigh a fluttering sound of oh, “Everything’s so lovely,” you say again. “And you’re so beautiful, alpha. We should eat green apples. I love green apples so much.” Delirious, a little nonsensical. 

“We will. We will– whatever you want,” he says, but he’s already mounting you again, wedging his fat cock into your tiny, battered hole, enjoying the sound of your half pleasure, half pained keen. And he doesn’t give you the grace of going slow, the rut is full on now – he fucks you into your nest hard, fucks against your womb until he’s filling it again. Only gentles once when you mumble into his ear, slurred and almost drooling, I want to watch it go in and out of me.

And despite his ferocity, the way he uses and abuses your cunt, he knows you need it from the way you open that little blossom mouth and try to swallow him whole, hungry thing. You yank at his beard and pull on his hair and scratch at his skin, bite his gland again and again, and he shocks himself by being nothing like afraid, nothing like uncertain. No, he only feels settled now. Joel only feels himself. 

He realizes that he had always needed this, but now, he wants it too. The distinction is stark and important beyond measure like some sort of primordial state of consciousness. He is only himself, dog fight lost and left victorious for it. 

You pass the days of your heat and his rut locked on his swollen knot, a steady stream of his come being pumped into you constantly. There’s no way he hasn’t bred you by now, and it makes something pleased and terrifyingly savage swell within him. 

He’s forced to shove an ice pack between your legs on the third day, between bouts on his knot, during a moment of clarity for the both of you while he feeds and waters you. But then later, after he’s given you one of the strawberry cream popsicles he’d made and frozen for you the day before you’d arrived, you sit, swollen cock buried deep, slowly rocking back and forth while he watches with an almost sick sort of rapt fascination as you eat the popsicle in little kitten licks, leaning back on his lap ever so often to bare your cunt to his gaze, slick and split wide, red as the strawberries in your sweet treat. 

“How is it?” He doesn’t specify which, the popsicle or the cock rocking inside of you, but you peer at him with the brightest and keenest sort of gaze, a look that tells him all he needs to know about himself, all that you see within him which is everything. You flash him a huge, cheesy grin, all the answer he’s getting, and you’ve got a tiny gap between your two front teeth that he finds so, so endearing, and his answering laugh is so vital, so alive, it’s like he steps into himself again after twelve years of vacancy. 

And with that bright light of clarity, a blink, blink, you seem to come fully awake for a moment. “Tell me of the things you like,” you order, taking a large bite of the iced treat and pressing your cold mouth to his, passing the flavor of strawberries onto his tongue.

He takes the moment and tastes it, pulls you close, “I like how the fire plays over your skin,” a palm ghosting down the slope of your naked back to the place where you’re connected. “How it makes shadows and shows me that glow inside.”

And as the fever fades, he switches to handling you with carefulness, gently stroking at your sensitive, come-filled pussy, careful of the stretched soreness of your little hole and the bruising around your nipples. With more awareness you remind him that he’s a big, stupid alpha with a big, stupid knot and that you hurt and want more.

But there’s still time and heat to take advantage of, and on the day he knows will be the last day of this animal lust, he stretches you out flat on your belly, his weight completely over your back, and he fucks you prone and immobilized, caged in by his bulging arms, telling you of how you own him now, how he belongs to you, how he’s going to keep you full and happy forever. “Make me come. Clench – good girl. Again,” he orders, and when his knot swells for what he knows will be the last time of this rut, relishing in the last whispers of your heat filled belly, he sniffs through the curtain of your hair and finding the still swollen gland at the nape of your neck, he slowly sinks his teeth into the vulnerable patch, binding your mating. 

-

Dawn peeks over the horizon like a faint suggestion, and you’re married on the cliffside one bitingly cold winter morning, the sea as your witness. Ellie and Dina are there, and they’re your friends now. You have friends, real friends, no more half life, no more half friend.You have friends, and you are important and significant and as vital and alive as Joel is. You’re real, and he helped make you so, yes, but really, you always had been. 

You wear flowers in your hair and a dress the color of the sky, and he has mirrors in his eyes, and the two of you are the same. Equal and only yourselves, and you love each other more than anything in only a very true way, nothing soft about it. 

When you know you’ll have a baby, he swallows your fear and your worry, marks your gland again as a reminder of all he is, all you are. And when you ask, for you can’t not share with him, “Will they come one day, to check if we did what we were supposed to? To see if we had a baby?”

He tells you, “Yes, they might,” very solemnly.

“What if–” a difficult thing to say out loud, now that you understand the thing you are and the way of the world so well, now that he’s shown you all there is to be shown, “What if they’re an omega like me – will they take them?” Give them their own white box and a not life to be nurtured by instead of a mother. 

But like all obvious things, he shares with you, always, only truths. “Never.” And the look in his eyes is so serious, eyes like mirrors, that you know his words are fact. “I’d never let that happen, I swear to you.” 

And the glow still comes, and the heat still takes you, but he’s always there now and nature is still an inescapable thing, but the perilous edge is no longer such a danger when you’re protecting each other. 

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

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[earlycuntsets]

translation: "my chemical romance interview. "for us, the live stage is the only place where we can be ourselves."

The songs are like a collection of rock anthems from all over the world, past and present, and it sets the hearts of listeners ablaze.

Who is the emo band that rocked the Summer Sonic stage?

My Chemical Romance, from New Jersey, who just released their major debut album "THREE CHEERS FOR SWEET REVENGE" in July, came to Japan for the first time at Summer Sonic 04. MCR's music is called "screamo" because of their friendship with their friends, including THE USED, and their style, and it contains the street/garage sensibility unique to the generation that went through American punk in recent years… but if you listen to it with a calm ear, you can see that although the vocals are "screamo style," the songs have a beautiful structure and tearful melodies that are related to British heavy metal, and they also feature beautiful guitar solos. In other words, MCR is a band that plays heavy metal at the street level… That's why they must have been so welcomed right from the start in Japan, a country that has a strong tradition of heavy metal music (probably) - their first performance in Japan was a big success.

45 minutes after the end of the thunderous "Summer Sonic" stage

We caught up with the two excited guitarists!

I've never been to a show like that before! I'll never forget this experience.

--Now Frank Iero (FI): This isn't real.

How was the live show you just finished?

FI: Seriously! I've never done a show like that before. It was a memorable moment in my life. I'll never forget it!

--You seem very excited. What was so amazing about it?

Ray Toro: No, not "What". WTF! I mean, they were so welcoming! I wasn't expecting that kind of reaction at all. It felt like a hometown show. Oh, what can I say… ahhhh… anyway, it feels great!-- (Laughs)

Was the positive reaction because the new york was great? Especially the first single "I'm Not Okay" it's really exciting… It's a great song, and the song structure is well-crafted, building up from the intro, and the solo is uplifting too. Did you feel any magic when you made it?

FI: Well, let me tell you something. This song is something that you can't really call "written".

Really? Is that so?

FI: That's true. The song itself only has four chords, right? Except for the solo, it's all four. So at first, I thought it would be a boring song. But when we got together in the studio and Ray was playing those four chords over and over… Gerald (Way/vocals) started singing. The other members were silent. I closed my eyes and listened carefully. Then I realized it was an incredibly beautiful song. I felt it was worth completing. So I tried to change it up with the chorus. The root remained four.

---The guitar solo in this song creates a harmony with the guitar, creating a grandeur that is reminiscent of Queen. How did this come about?

FI: That solo was all Ray!

RT: Of course we were totally inspired by Queen! We were all saying, "Let's have a big guitar solo. Nobody does that anymore!" So I layered the guitars on it and made it as epic as possible. Also, when we were writing the song originally, we talked about making it as production-heavy as possible in the studio… Another thing I did consciously was to think of all the '80s pop and '70s bands I liked. I thought, "What would they do to make a song that's really epic…?" That's also where the two-second piano in the middle of the song came from. It doesn't really mean anything, but it's a bit like a soundtrack.

In terms of age, he was still very much alive.

FI: To tell you the truth, that second part is from the live album "CHEAP TRICK AT BUDOKAN" (1978) [laughs] I really wanted to include it. To begin with, even though some people have performed it live, I've never heard it performed in a studio album. I tried to include that as well and create the biggest anthem I could think of.

Q: Not just "I'm Not Okay," but all of MCR's songs…The composition is designed to make the listeners excited. They are all uplifting and dramatic. Is this something you do consciously?

FI: I'm totally aware of it.

RT: Yes. You can hear it in the song, but I change parts one after another. For example, We never repeat the same parts twice, and as the song progresses, new elements are added. We want it to feel like it's building from one thing to the next. Every member of the band contributes to that. The drums, the vocals, the melodies…everything helps the song to go higher and higher.

FI: Especially the new album, "It's Not A Fashion Statement, It's a Deathwish" crescendos all the way through. It just gets stronger and stronger. It all comes together in a spectacular finale. The whole band sings together for an anthemic ending. Because I like it! Our styles are completely different, maybe that mismatch is a good thing?

MCR's music tends to be dramatic. Is that due to the influence of the music you've listened to up until now?

RT: I grew up listening to heavy metal, like Ozzy Osbourne. I was obsessed with guitar heroes. I like bands that feature guitar players such as the late Randy Rhoads (g/Ozzy Osbourne) and Joe Satriani, Jimi Hendrix… In other words, Randy is the one who combined heavy metal with classical music, but his guitar playing I think he is the person who has had the biggest influence on my style. It's a bit old-fashioned, but it has a melody. And it's timeless. Melody.

FI: Richie Havens. My first woodstock. He was the opening act for the concert. He took me to an acoustic I just played it with one guitar, like a solo. There wasn't much, just sitting on the stool. He played very melodic and rhythmic guitar. But it's a completely unique style that can't be imitated. He had tiles… Such a great performer. I've never seen him before! I've seen Richie on stage about 10 times now, and I'm blown away every time. He's one of the reasons I don't stop playing guitar. I also love Greg Ginn (guitar/Black Flag) and Thurston Moore (vocals, guitar/Sonic Youth). In other words, I like dirty and emotional guitar more than intellectual style.

——————Hmm. You two have completely different tastes…

FI: Well, we are completely different types of guitarists, but maybe that mismatch is a good thing.

--You mentioned a lot of artists, but listening to your album I can sense a strong influence from heavy metal. But you also listen to a lot of different music from the '70s and '80s, right?

RT: Well, you can't just listen to one type of music, you know? There's so much good music out there. We can't just pretend not to notice it! All of us in the band try to listen to as much as we can and want to absorb as much as we can from all kinds of music.

FI: What we heard was an influence in some way.

FI: I like to use a Marshall JCM900 connected to a SUNN cabinet, and an Epiphone Zak Wylde model Les Paul as the only guitar. I turn up the bass all the way (laughs). Treble is about mid-range. I add gain here and there. But I like to keep it sounding like a real guitar. Not a "buzzing" sound with too much gain, but more of a solid sound.

RT: Yes! And we both try to only use effects when absolutely necessary, and usually plug them straight into the amp. Oh, but we do use wah pedals. Personally, I'd love to see the wah come back!

--I see. So with Frank on the bass and Ray raising the middle, it feels like you've managed to balance the band sound well?

FI&RT: Exactly!

FI: That's how I make it clear that there are two guitars. It's better to have a difference where you can hear each guitar part and it doesn't sound too cluttered.

――――So, let's talk about your playing, not just the guitar sound.

RT: I've been in the middle of it all. But the best thing to do is come to a show and see for yourself! I think there have been times when people thought it was Frank and it was me, and vice versa. We've influenced each other so we have some similarities.

---So you're influenced by each other's playing?

RT: Yeah. At least I got it from Frank.

I learned to play dirty. Not just clean, but more emotional. Instead of being super technical and perfect, I gave myself a little more leeway and tried to avoid feedback and pick-squeezing.

Frank is especially good at pick slides. He likes to make noise out of the guitar, rather than a pretty sound.

He's really good at bringing that out. Making noise, not just playing, is something I'm still learning.

FI: I'm the opposite, I'm learning to play clean, to keep things under control, but still let out emotion when necessary.

RT: A classic example of what you're talking about is "The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You." Frank has a really great part here. After the second chorus, it gets really quiet.

"THREE CHEERS FOR SWEET REVENGE" Warner Music Japan [CD] WPCR-11883 Sensual vocal melodies and emotional guitars, as heard on the 1st single.Their popularity is on the rise thanks to the explosive emotion of their vocals. This is the band's second album and their major label debut. Ray's strengths are in his guitar playing, which always lifts the listener up. While talking about the existing screamo sound, such as the "screamo" part, a new sense of flavoring with the essence of gothic and metal shines. And it's the same with everyday experiences! Everything that comes out of it naturally comes out in the work, and the more I shut out certain types of music or certain experiences, the less fertilizer I have. The goal is the stage. Keep playing to the limit. From what I saw on stage a while ago, the live equipment was, you both used similar things. How do you differentiate between the sounds?

RT: I'm more into distortion. I play a lot of riffs and generally like to emphasize the mid-range.

My model was the crunch guitar sound of Metallica's "Master of Puppets" (1986).

FI: On the other hand, I only use distortion to a natural degree.

Can you tell me the specific equipment names?

RT: The amps are Marshall "JCM2000" and "1960".

Cabinet. The guitar was bought by my brother for Christmas 10 years ago.

It's a very easy one to make, but the sound is great!

I also use an Epiphone Les Paul.

036 GuitarBreakers Vol.8

He said it was a good example of how the differences between the two of them are well expressed.

Can you name any?

FI: You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us

In Prison, I guess?

RT: You're right!

FI: You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us

"In Prison" is huge! The first two verses are

It's rhythmic and dirty, and then…

Ray's guitar hero-like, epic solo begins (laughs). And it has a light rhythm. And then there's "To The End" too.

RT: Yes. In some ways, I play more technically than Frank, but "To the End" has a great guitar solo, it's fast, and it's got some rhythmic, dirty parts. But I think you can hear the difference in our playing styles on every song to some extent.

---By the way, on the album, which is left and which is right?

Are you playing the channel?

RT: Well, in the verses, I mostly play on the left.

Ray is on the left. And Frank is on the right in the chorus.

Frank really blossoms in this scene. It's totally different from his previous style.

FI: Mmhmm!

---Finally, could you tell us about your future goals regarding guitar and songwriting?

FI: For now, I'd like to be able to turn the parts I've written for the next album into proper songs.

Also, we have a clear goal as a band.

But I'll keep it a secret until I achieve it (lol).

RT: For me personally, I just want to keep improving.

FI: Me too!

RT: We both love playing guitar.

That's what life is all about, so I want to keep improving both in technique and melody.

FI: For us, it was a live show that lasted less than two hours. I think that the only chance I have is to be myself, to experience a pure and spiritual moment. So my goal is to continue to play all the way to the end. There is a joy that cannot be expressed in words. I don't think you can understand it unless you have experienced it!

My Chemical Playing - A magnificent world created with guitar

The key to My Chemical Romance's songs is the twin guitars. When the two guitars intertwine, sometimes intensely and sometimes elegantly, it gives the listener a great sense of exhilaration.

Ray was crazy about guitar heroes like Randy Rhoads and Joe Satriani, while Frank loves Greg Ginn and Thurston Moore. They come from completely different backgrounds, but as Ray says, "When we get together, we don't know why, but a special atmosphere is born," which is the characteristic of the My Chemical Romance sound. In fact, Alba

If you check out his playing, you can hear many good examples of two-guitar ensemble. One of the best is the backing for "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)." As mentioned in the interview, the bass in this song is a repeat of four chords (D → Bm Em → A), but it is amazing how the performance is not at all simple. Due to space limitations, I will not post an example.

"I'm Not Okay" style guitar solo sheet music.

I'm sorry I can't introduce it, but I definitely want you to check out the ensemble in the A-melody. So, I'll introduce the solo below. This performance was inspired by Queen and was meant to be grand. The harmonies are great, but the chord progression is deliberately E/G#, even though E would have been fine in the flow. This is one of the reasons why it feels so grand.

In the harmonies from bars 1 to 8, you want to be aware of the speed at which you raise the pitch of the choking, and the speed and depth of the vibrato.

The first half of bar 12 means "play five notes in two beats."

2004 volume 8 guitar breakers from theydrewblood.blogspot.com

[prismuffin]

Omg! Okay so I just thought of the cuties thing in opinion! And wanted to do an ask of it!!

So, Male Reader is a shape-shifting alien kinda like Marsion's (Ex:Mee-gan ), but they can only be in a form that is not their true form for a limited time. Like 16hrs or something, after that, they shift back to their real form, unless they are in like fight or flight mode. After the time is up their behavior is that of an autistic that is burnout or overstimulated.

The MaleReader's true form basically looks very similar to an Earth's panther (i.e big cat) expect it has 4 sets of eyes and has a pure white coat with red patterns.

So! How would Dick, Jason, Tim, Wally and Conner (sperately) react to Alien MaleReader doing the cat behavior of 'if I fits, I sits' after seeking them out to take a nap and recharge?

Ex: Jason wanting some peace reading while laying on the couch, and reader just climbs his way up the back of the couch, to carefully place himself in between Jason's side and the couch cushions.

I'm working on some full fics but as to not let my blog seem dead I'll get this ask out the way! Anyways I think that-

Dick was in the kitchen making himself some lunch. For once, he decided to sit down at the table to eat instead of going to his room. He was sort of surprised to see you in your true form creeping your way over to him. He, at first, thought you wanted some of his food which he was not gonna give to you but instead you simply shrunk down underneath his chair. Squeezing yourself through the legs of the seat and resting your head on his foot. He was confused but just let it happen, sighing as he realized he was stuck with the cat curse and now he cant move because you're laying on him.

Jason would be sitting on the couch, finally glad to find a rare moment of quiet. He was simply relaxing until you came in, you were in your true form so he didn't think you'd be too much of a distraction. But he was wrong when you walked up to him and practically draped yourself across his lap, resting your head on a nearby pillow. You exhaled deeply and just closed your eyes, joining him in his relaxation session. He looked around at the rest of empty spaces on the couch before looking back at you, shaking his head with a slight smirk he just let you lay on him since you were warm.

Tim would probably be working, mumbling to himself about god knows what when you'd walked into his lab. He turned when he'd heard his door open and greeted you as he saw you enter, asking if you needed anything. You didn't answer and simply walked up to him, rubbing yourself against his legs with your tail held high before diving between his legs. Because of your size he had to steady himself as to not fall over. He let out a surprised gasp before trying to push you out but you wouldn't budge. When he did successfully get you out from underneath him you just followed him and did it again and again. If this was your way of getting him to stop overworking himself so much it is kind of working.

Wally had recently gotten a new package and boy was he happy, besides the fact that he had to assemble it himself. So he sat on the floor of his room trying to put together a gaming chair, screwing together two parts that look like they definitely shouldn't fit that way but that's besides the point. You'd entered his room and he'd given you a quick greeting before going back to building his chair. He'd heard some shuffling from where you were and turned to ask what you were doing only to see you fitting yourself within the large box that his chair had come in. You'd successfully smushed yourself down enough to fit perfectly in the box and he couldn't help but laugh at the sight. He took a picture, ignoring the soft glare you were giving him.

Conner would be resting and taking some time for himself not really doing much sadly. It was a rather boring day so he just sat himself on the couch, submitting to the mindless entertainment that the tv offers. Sooner or later you walked into the common room, spotting the kryptonian you moved over to him before shoving yourself under his legs. He was confused at first and asked what you were doing but didn't get much of a response besides a semi-sassy look as you just laid down and closed your eyes. He didn't move as your presence simply added to the comforting feeling of the couch especially since you were practically a warm footrest for him.

———

Directory

[caelisblade]

– FORGET ABOUT US | SYLUS

sylus is the god of death, the underworld, hell. as if that wasn‘t enough, he appears to be your husband whom you have forgotten. and as it turns out, there‘s even more to the story — and about you. 

wc; 5.3k

cw; a persephone and hades retelling (kind of), reader is not mc, n/sfw, unprotected s/ex, c/reampie, o/verstimulation, r/iding, a little bit greek mythology inspired, angsty ending

a/n: part of this story was inspired by a fic i read a long time ago. unfortunately, i don‘t remember who it was by, otherwise i‘d obviously give credits. 

something was wrong. 

you felt in your whole body, it felt like someone was watching you but looking around, you simply were unable to spot anybody. it was weird. 

this feeling didn’t leave for days on end. yet, the feeling of being watched, somehow, felt so familiar, too. oddly enough, you didn’t feel like you were in imminent danger. in fact, you felt safer – even slept better at night. 

“hello, sweetheart”, the lurker finally revealed himself. 

you shrieked in shock as someone suddenly stood before you, a gorgeous, strange man. 

“goodness, you scared me. do you normally approach women like this?”, you said, a breathy chuckle leaving you. 

“just the prettiest one. and you are the most gorgeous woman i have met in my entire life”, he replied, a gentle smile dancing around his lips. 

“uh huh… that’s interesting”, you laughed. “now, tell me, how did you even get into my home? isn’t that… creepy?”

“maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. i couldn’t care less. i’ve come to bring you home.”

“what do you mean? i am home”, you laughed, yet the confusion was incredibly evident in your face. 

“this place? no, y/n. this isn’t your home. well, it is for six months of the year but your real home… is someplace else. and i want you back there with me”, he explained, yet so much wasn’t cleared up still. who was he? how did he know your name? he seemed so comfortable just barging in here like… he was someone you had forgotten. 

“with you? you’re a total stranger to me. why would i go anywhere with you?” 

“because you know me. i’m sylus. you always knew me and you always will. yet, there is a bit of a hindrance between us – you always forget me until it’s time for me to bring you back. i promise, sweetheart. you know me. and i know you. better than anyone else in this world and every other world that exists”, he explained. “i swear, it all will make so much more sense once you come home with me.” 

it was weird, but… you felt like he was telling the truth. it was this feeling etched deeply within you, the trust you felt for this man was enchanting and before you even realized it, you were slowly stepping to him. 

“i don’t know why, but… i believe you. i don’t understand, but i do”, you softly said. 

“because deep down here”, he started, slowly closing the distance between you two and pointing at your heart, “you know i’m telling the truth.” 

a loud rumble echoed through your apartment, you looked around in panic as you felt yourself literally being sucked into the ground. “w-what’s going on?!”, you exclaimed, fear enveloping your body. 

“we’re going home, sweetheart”, he said with a chuckle and within the next second, just another blink of your eyes, you were someplace else. 

confused, you looked around, taking in your surroundings and noticing the gorgeous garden. flowers were one of your most favorite things in the world and you quickly went to the garden, taking a breather of the fresh flowers. 

“they’re not real, unfortunately. not a single living thing can survive down here”, sylus explained with a sad tone in his voice. 

“what do you mean with down here?”, you questioned. despite him saying that the flowers were not real, they sure as hell smelled real. 

“hell. hades. whatever you’d like to call it”, he said, shrugging. 

“you brought me to… hell?!”, you asked. “that’s what you called my true home? why would i…?” 

nothing made sense. you felt like, nothing would ever make sense to you right now, no matter how clear and understandable the explanation was. 

“i promise, i will explain everything to you”, sylus said once again. “come with me, sweetheart.” 

he raised his hand, holding it out with an inviting smile. and you took it, curious. 

sylus slowly took you around the area. “this is hell?”, you questioned, confused at how it looked all… normal. although the furniture was mostly in black and red, the area was still… giving a certain happy, exciting energy. it definitely didn’t feel like the burning, scary place you were always told the stories about. 

“well, it’s a part of it. hell is… not as bad as everyone pictures it. most souls finding their ways here are surprised as well – the burning in hell jab was never a thing. i don’t even know where that came from. yes, hell is a place in which you get punished for your wrongdoings. but… in a way, you punish yourself for those. you know that saying ‘your own personal hell’? that’s exactly how it is for the souls that come here. they relive sins over and over again, with the difference that they experience what they made others experience.” 

“that makes sense”, you concluded. 

“and being the god of death and the guardian of hell… of course, i’m going to live a lavish life, am i not?”, he laughed softly. “i can literally just snap with my finger…” a little snap with his fingers, and suddenly, a candle-lit table filled with your most favorite meals and dishes appeared in front of you. “and i will have it. this is my world, after all. well, i took over control of it once my brothers and i banished our parents, the titans, to tartarus.” 

“i’m so sorry to say this, but… this just feels so surreal. deep down, i know you’re telling the truth, yet some part of me is refusing to believe this is real”, you said. 

“as always, sweetheart. you’ll need some time to remember. but that’s okay, i promise”, he comforted you and gently nudged you to take a seat at the couch next to the candlelit dinner table. “take all the time you need, dearest.” 

he snapped with his fingers once again and a little plate with different fruits appeared on his hand. “here, eat a little. you must be starving”, he mumbled, taking a few pomegranate seeds and feeding them to you. 

“how did you know i like pomegranates?”, you asked. 

“i just do. like i said. i know everything about you. and you know everything about me. just give it another two days, maybe three. that’s usually how long i need to feed you pomegranates until you remember. it’s not my first rodeo of this, sweetheart. you’ll understand soon, i promise.” 

you nodded, still confused about everything before you just ate the seeds of the delicious pomegranate with excitement. and sylus watched you munch on the seeds so carelessly, so happily. he was so in love with you, his heart jumped as you licked over his fingertip to taste the delicious juice. 

“you’re so pretty”, he mumbled. “and so, so adorable. let’s see if i can make you remember me faster this time.” 

before you could ask why he kept on repeating that, you suddenly felt his hand on your chin, turning you around before he kissed you. your eyes widened in shock, but you felt yourself melt into it quite fast, eyes slowly fluttering shut and you started to kiss him back. he slowly buried his hand into your hair, his kiss intensifying with every moment. 

an image of this exact thing happening flashed before your eyes for a split second, before it vanished again. 

he broke off the kiss, breathless from how desperate, longing the kiss was. “i missed this in the past six months”, he mumbled softly. “i missed the way you feel against me, the way you taste. i’m going to make you remember everything. just keep on munching those pomegranate seeds, yeah? they always helped you remember.” 

“pomegranate seeds helped me remember? that’s… odd”, you commented, but didn’t complain because you loved them anyway. you grabbed the table with the fresh seeds and kept on eating them, happy about the sweet and sour taste of them. “they’re delicious.” 

“of course they are. i got them for you”, he laughed softly. “you get the best of everything. you deserve it all.” 

the first day spent in hell with sylus passes with you munching all the delicious food he snapped into reality for you and then slowly falling asleep in his arms. 

sylus stayed awake for the entire night. he watched you sleep so comfortably, a soft smile on your lips as you dreamt of various things. he couldn’t know what those things were, but they were beautiful dreams that he knew. that smile on your lips was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. 

slowly, with the comfort of having you in his arms once again, he fell asleep, for the first time in six months, so relaxed and happy. and he actually slept an entire night without being plagued by the memories he had with you before the curse happened. 

you woke up with a sigh, eyes finally opening and you stared right into sylus’ sleeping face. you couldn’t help but look at him, he looked so peaceful, and he was probably the most gorgeous man you had ever met in your entire life. 

“good morning”, sylus grumbled, eyes still closed, yet he was awake. “did you sleep well?” 

“mhm, surprisingly, considering i just spent the night in hell”, you joked, earning yourself a tickle attack from him. 

despite him being a stranger, you had no problem sleeping in the same bed as him. 

though, something has changed now. you were sure you remembered splits and bits of what he was talking — or more like, hinting — about. 

“i remember a few things, i think”, you mumbled. “it’s weird. i remember you and i kissing, every chance we got. i remember you and i sleeping in this bed like tonight. but i can’t remember what our relationship was. were we boyfriend and girlfriend? were we… married?”

“we were — or more like, still are — actually married”, sylus revealed. “we had the most lavish wedding known among every god in our history. you looked so gorgeous in your dress. i remember the night of our wedding day in its greatest detail, too.” a little smirk danced on his lips at that memory. 

“it was probably one of the longest nights we spent entangled in bed together. something i plan to reenact once you remember me”, he laughed softly, and that laugh intensified when he saw how shy you got when you heard that. “and then… followed the war. and the curse.” 

his tone got more serious once he got to that part of the story. 

“the titans – our parents – challenged us olympians. and we did our best to overthrow them, and finally did it. but before it was finally time and we had banished them to tartarus, my father put a curse on us. we are never able to be together as we wished to be. you disappear back to earth like clockwork around april. i will come and bring you back to me in winter. your mother gave me her blessing for it. i get to spend those six months with my wife. though, i have to make you remember every time anew. i have to make you fall back in love with me again. now, i finally figured out how to make you remember the easiest – pomegranate seeds do the trick best. i don’t know why and i can’t explain why, either. it just works.” 

you listen to him intently. he had such a calming storytelling voice. you loved listening to him. 

“i mean, after centuries of doing this, i should know how to make my wife fall in love with me every six months, don’t i?”, he chuckled, but there was no sort of emotion in his laugh. 

“is there no way of getting rid of this curse?”, you asked. he shook his head. 

“not that we know of. nothing we tried ever worked”, he replied. 

“i’m sorry”, you said, choking up on your sobs. “i’m sorry i have to make you feel this lonely for six months every time.” 

“shh, princess, it’s okay. i’m okay. and as long as you are okay, i will be okay.” 

you hugged him immediately, trying to bury your tears. it was clear he loved you and you could feel it by the way he embraced you as well. 

“i still don’t remember everything. but i���m willing to try, sylus. i swear. i want to remember everything. i want to remember you and me”, you whispered against his neck. 

“and you will. i will do anything in my power to help you remember me. and everything about us. like every year. and then we will spend the most amazing six months of our lives once again. you will forget about them but i will lock them in my memories like every year. and then we’ll meet again in six months. i will be yours forever. no matter how much it breaks my heart to know i have to make you fall in love with me again like clockwork.” 

he reached to the nightstand and grabbed a box. as he opened it, he revealed a ring. “this was our wedding ring, sweetheart. i keep it with me. can i put it back on your finger?”

you nodded, your eyes still shimmering from the tears you tried your best to contain as you held out your hand. he carefully slipped the ring onto your ring finger, smiling at you. 

“i love you. you don’t have to say it back. do it when you’re ready, pretty”, he whispered and kissed your forehead gently. 

you nodded only as you inspected the ring, the diamond etched into it shining brightly in the light of the room. “it’s beautiful. thank you, sy.” 

as you called him by your usual nickname, there was yet another memory unlocked. you saying this exact nickname before, sitting in this exact bed before. “i- i remember this exact thing. we did this before, didn’t we?”, you asked. “you give this ring back to me every year. how do you have the patience to wait for me every year, sy?”

“i don’t know. i just do. the thought of being reunited with you at some point gives me the energy to wait and be patient.”

“that must be so painful every time i just… disappear, right?”, you said, hugging him a little tighter. 

“it doesn’t matter. what matters is that you are with me again, sweetheart”, he replied. “i love you. i will love you forever with my immortal life. i don’t care that you will leave me every six months, even if it’s involuntary. i will get you back when i can and have you fall back in love with me every single time.” 

“you must be the most patient man on earth… well- in hell”, you joked, giggling. “this is so weird. i never pictured hell to look this… beautiful.”

“because this isn‘t the part of hell that‘s the horrible one. this is our home. that we built together. i never changed a thing about the furniture you chose.”

“me? choosing black and dark red furniture? i must‘ve been out of my mind”, you grumble. “are you sure?”

he laughed, his laugh so deep and the way you looked at him was the most adorable thing he saw in his life. as you looked at him questioning his sudden burst of laughter, he slowly stopped laughing and started explaining.

“it‘s funny because… you react like this every single year. and once you remember, you also remember why you chose these specific colors.”

“well, then let’s see what my reasons were for these abominations of color schemes”, you giggled and finally stood up from bed, stretching your body to get rid of the last bits of sleep still lingering in your body. 

“i‘m hungry. can you snap your fingers and make me breakfast?”, you yawned, turning back to face him. 

“why don‘t you try it yourself?”

“h-huh? myself?”, you ask, the previous confusion making its way back onto your face. “how am i supposed to-?” 

“just try. you are a goddess, sweetheart. you don‘t remember anything, but i do. i remember it all. just try”, he encouraged you, standing up to go behind you and he took your hand into his, entangling your fingers with his. “just think of the most lavish breakfast table a person could ever prepare. and focus only on that.”

you closed your eyes, picturing a table with your most favorite items to eat for breakfast and within the next second, that exact table appeared in front of you. 

“i did this?”, you asked, looking around and finally looking up to face him. “you‘re not playing around with me, are you?”

“no, of course i‘m not, sweetheart. go on, try making something appear without telling me what it is. go ahead”, he said, letting go of your hand. 

you closed your eyes as you tried to think of a bouquet of white roses and winced as you felt a stinging pain in your hand. you opened your eyes again to see that exact binding of white roses in your hand and dropped it as the thorns stabbed into your fingers. you watched a little bit of blood trail down your skin before it vanished just a second later. 

you looked at sylus who smiled at you proudly. “see? sweetheart, you are the queen of the underworld. you are my queen. you are the goddess of the dead, the underworld and nature. of course, you can do everything i can do, too.”

with that revelation of your true identity, it was like, everything that was locked in the smallest corner of your brain suddenly unlocked. you remembered everything. you remembered him kidnapping you many centuries ago. you remember eating six pomegranate seeds which is the reason you have to stay six months of the year in the underworld. 

you remember the first time you realized you genuinely loved him. 

and you remember the gruesome war. you remember the curse sylus’ father had put on you before he was banished to tartarus. 

“i remember”, you whisper. “i remember it all.” 

“what?”, sylus blurted out, as if in disbelief. 

“i remember everything. i remember the first time you brought me here. i remember how i fell in love with you. i remember how we got married before your father put the curse on me”, you said, eyes tearing up. 

he quickly grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers. “i think this is the fastest i was able to make you remember”, he laughed, the brightest smile on his face. before you could do or say anything, he kissed you. it was the most intense, passionate and breathtaking kiss you ever shared before. 

your arms wrapped around his neck as he held you tight, and when he broke off the kiss, he didn’t go far away, his forehead pressed against yours. his red eyes bore into yours as you sobbed, tears rolling down your cheeks as he wiped them all off gently. 

“shh, don‘t cry, princess. there‘s nothing to cry about”, he whispered gently, planting a soft kiss on both of your cheeks, tasting the dried up tears on your soft skin. 

“sylus, i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you”, you repeated like a mantra, kissing him over and over again. “i love you. i’m so sorry for making you go through all of this every single year. let’s try to find a remedy, baby. i don’t ever want to see you in pain again.” 

“it’s okay. i promise. it’s okay. i will wait for you every single time”, he replied, hugging you tightly as he comforted you. “don’t cry, my love. don’t cry. let’s just spend these six months together… until it’s time again.” 

just a few more moments later, you slowly calmed down and just stood there in his arms. “i love you”, he whispered before he placed his fingers underneath your chin and lifted your head. “i can’t help but say it over and over again. i missed you so much, baby.” 

you gave no response – instead, you just kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck once again, the kiss slowly turning from tiny, gentle pecks, into something more intense, passionate. 

“missed kissing you like this”, he whispered against your lips. “remember our wedding night?” 

your cheeks heated up and you wanted to turn your face around in embarrassment. “no, no, sweetheart, no need to get shy”, he whispered. “i want you to remember that night. because i swear to you, that is what i’m going to reenact once you give me your okay.” 

you felt something in your stomach turn, in the most positive way possible. the memories were now etched into your brain and although there were thousands of moments you spent with him. 

“sweetheart”, he grumbled, voice having an edge of desperation in it. “you drive me crazy.” 

he slowly leaned down to kiss down your neck, he was leaving soft bites over your skin and you shuddered, a feeling of sudden need surging through your body. “please”, you whined, not even knowing what you were asking for. 

“please, what, sweetheart?”, he grumbled against your neck. “you know i love to hear your words. you remember now. do it, then. tell me what you want.” 

“i want you”, you softly breathed out. “i want you to fuck me.”

“such a dirty mouth. i’ll never tire from hearing you say this, sweetheart”, he chuckled before he kissed you again, this time more desperate, slowly pushing you against the nearest wall and he lifted one of your legs to wrap it around his waist. “i’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll lose your damn mind, sweetie.” 

“i know you will”, you whispered softly with a grin. 

he was about to carry you back to bed before you stopped him. “take me up against the wall first”, you mumbled, cheeks heating up. “i don’t know why. i just want this. you can make love to me later.” 

he chuckled softly before he nodded. “as you wish, milady”, he said with a grin and pulled off your clothes with swift, quick movements. you were unable to move a single muscle, just watching him undress you and looking at you with a hungry gaze. 

he slowly let one of his hands trail down your body and you shivered. before you knew it, you felt his fingers slowly circle your clit. even with the tiniest touch, sparks shot through your body, eyes fluttering shut as the first smallest bits of pleasure coursed through your body. 

“ah- sylus”, you whined, softly. “i- i need more.” 

“you’ll get more, sweetheart. don’t you worry. i’ll take care of you.” 

he pushed a finger inside of you, making you moan softly. that sound was one of his favorite sounds on earth. “you’re so wet already. i bet you could take me without a problem, too.” 

“please, sy, fuck me”, you begged softly. “please.” 

he smirked, his red eyes watched your every move and reaction. “take my clothes off, then, sweetheart.” he pulled out his finger and licked it clean with a smirk. you quickly got to work, pulling off his shirt and the joggers he was wearing. 

“never in my life did i imagine the king of hell would wear joggers to sleep”, you laughed but he cut off that laugh rather quickly by wrapping his hand around your neck. 

“what’s so funny, sweetheart?”, he grunted with a smirk. “am i not just a person, too? can’t i wear joggers just because i’m the king of hell?” 

“of course, you can. i’m just joking around.” 

sylus was a rough man, especially in bed. after all, that was a requirement for being the king of hell, the person who rules over the people who passed and punish themselves for their sins, for their crimes. 

and he showed that roughness through his actions. because the moment he lifted your leg and wrapped your naked body around his body, slowly pushing in his cock inside of you, he was whipped yet again. he loved being buried in you, fucking you until you were a breathless, overstimulated, yet so beautiful mess. 

sylus increased his pace, bouncing you on his cock and making you cry out in pleasure. your body shook, tears slowly forming in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks as you felt your body convulse, a tight knot forming in your tummy. 

“i’m- i’m gonna cum!”, you whined. you shrieked when you felt your back on the bed, he suddenly had you thrown onto the bed. 

“can’t fuck you properly without laying you down on our bed”, he grunted, “need your legs around me, need you as close as possible to me.” 

he fucked you with passion, watching your face contort as the knot in your tummy snapped and you climaxed, back arching into him. you were feeling so great, too, the pleasure making your body tingle and you smiled in your post-orgasmic haze. 

“feels good, sweetie?”, he asked, brushing a strand out of your face. “you sure look like it feels absolutely amazing.” 

“it does. i feel so.. good”, you whispered, looking up at him with teary eyes. “i need you, sy. i need you more.” 

“and you’ll get it all, baby.” 

he was ravaging you in the best way possible – he had you buried in the many pillows on his – your shared – bed, fucking into you, your bodies both covered in sweat and dried up tears were coating your cheeks. 

“ah- sylus! slow down!”, you cried as overstimulation wrecked through your body, but everything in your body screamed that he shouldn’t stop or slow down. the way he was rutting into you like a man starved was turning you on beyond imagination. 

“no, no, no slowing down”, he grunted against your neck, delivering a particularly hard thrust into you, making you jolt up in surprise. “i’m going to fuck you and you’re going to take it all like my good girl.” 

“uh-huh”, you whimpered, nails scratching over his back and leaving all kinds of marks. they would heal in a short time, but sylus loved feeling the slight pain of your nails digging into his skin. 

your cries intensified when you felt his thumb circle over your clit, along with his relentless thrust into your weeping pussy. “come for me, baby. come for me”, he whispered into your ear, his deep voice sending a powerful shudder through your body and you ended up coming just a quick moment later, the post-orgasmic shocks going through your body. 

he held you tight, watching your face contort as your husband gently caressed your skin as he waited for you to calm down. “shh, princess, i’m here. i love you.” 

“i still can’t believe you do this every single year”, you whispered once you calmed down, placing your hand on his cheek. “i hate to break your heart like this.” 

“it’s out of your control, sweetheart. it’s okay. let’s not focus on that, right now. i just want to be buried in your sweet cunt and feel you as close as possible.” 

you laughed softly. “you’re impossible.” 

“you love it”, he smirked before he moved once again, watching your face contorted in pleasure and overstimulation. “you love me anyway.” 

“that i do. that i really do.” 

before you knew it, he turned you around so you were on top of him – he wanted you to watch you on top of him. “ride me, baby. take what you deserve”, he grunted. “let me watch you.” 

“you just want me to do all the work, don’t you? so lazy”, you giggled before you started to move up and down his cock, soft whines and moans escaping your throat. his hands were latched onto your hips, guiding your movements and leaned down, laying on top of him and peppered kisses over his neck. 

“i swear, your sweet pussy is going to kill me one day”, he groaned. “i’m so close, fuck.” 

“then come in me, sy. come in me”, you cried out, overstimulation making your thighs shake but you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop. you just needed to feel this, you needed to feel as close as possible to him. because you wanted to give him all the memories you could until the day you’d be gone again for six months and forget about him once more. 

“fuck, sweetheart”, he grunted into your ear. the noises he let out were like music – and you never wanted it to stop. “you take me so well. i’m so proud of you, baby.” 

sylus knew there was no way in hell he could hold back after feeling you wrapped around him after such a long time. so when you squeezed around his cock once again, close to your own high again, you felt the spurts of his cum burst into you, filling you up in the best way possible. 

he made it to his mission to make you finish again because even though his body was screaming for a break, he had to make you cum so he just guided your hips up and down his cock until you screamed his name and creamed around his cock again, the white ring of your mixed releases so visible on the base of his cock. 

“fuck, baby. i sometimes don’t know how i manage to wait six months to feel this again”, he groaned, keeping you on top of him as he softly brushed through your hair. your body was still buzzing from the constant highs and orgasms and you just lay on his chest, trying to calm yourself down. 

his gentle strokes through your hair, over your back made you so drowsy, sleepy from exhaustion. “i love you, sy.” 

“i love you, too, sweetheart.” 

six months passed with a blink of an eye. you spent most of the time eating all the foods you could think of and just spent the time walking around hell. it was ironically romantic, despite it being literal hell. you’d hold his hand, walk around with him as he showed you the river in the elysian fields, which was the river of happiness. 

he let you taste a little drop and you just felt like you were floating on air. 

you and him spent a lot of time entangled in bed, fucking each other’s brains out, making love, kissing and making out and you just… loved it all. 

the moment you realized that your memory started to blur and you had no idea where you were anymore, you quickly took off the ring on your finger and gave it back to him for safekeeping. 

“i’m so sorry, sy. i’m going to miss you. i love you”, you whispered before you disappeared without being able to hear his ‘i love you, too’. you were unable to watch his eyes tear up in pain, his heart breaking. you were back on earth, not remembering anything that had happened in the past six months. 

“see you in six months, sweetie”, he whispered, holding the ring tight in his hand and sylus cursed out his father for the pain he made his son experience every single time. 

sylus swore that he’d find a remedy one day, but he never was able to. 

until then, he’d spend his six months a year with you in your home and wait until it was time to bring you back home. despite the pain, he was happy he was able to spend time with you at all. 

he carefully placed the ring back into its box and smiled with teary eyes, starting the countdown of days until he’d see you again.

a/n: i really hope you enjoyed this! it was my first time writing after ages so i might be a bit rusty, so sorry about that. this one is one of my most favorite writings in a long time so i really hope you love it just as much as i do!

[lightwing-s]

May I request hcs for batboys when their mute!fem!reader traced the words "i love u" on their backs before trying to spell the words to them?

the batboys when mute!reader writes 'i love you' on their backs

a/n: it's been a while since i last wrote one of those. thanks for the request! i had a lot of fun writing it ♡

Before you even finished writing, Dick would’ve already turned around and faced you, a beaming smile gracing his lips. He’d look at you, eyes probably watery, and wait for you to smile back at him to start plastering your face with kisses. In between each one of them a new ‘I love you’ sang aloud, ready to let the world know he reciprocated your feelings and that you too loved him, because if you couldn’t voice your love to the world, he’d do so for the two of you. Proudly!

Jason, however, would be more chill about it, but not less enthusiastic. When he realizes what you’ve done, he’d stop for a while, letting it all sink in. He’d smile to himself, the realization slowly warming your heart, before turning around to look at you. His eyes were warm, giving you a sense of comfort and certainty after you’d worried about what would be his response. Moving closer, closing the gap between you two, he’d softly whisper against your lips ‘I love you too’ before taking your breath away with a kiss.

In similar fashion, when it comes to Tim, he’d take just as long as his brother to let your words click into place. But differently, he'd ponder for a while if it was true or not. Eye to eye with you, he’d be serious while mouthing and gesturing to question ‘For real?’, something you’d reply with a simple nod of your head. Worry would flood your heart after his initial reaction, but it would all be washed out when the corners of his lips started spreading out in his face, reaching from ear to ear, in the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen. A gimmer in his eyes sparkled brighter as he’d ask ‘Can I kiss you?’ before you gladly allowed him to join your lips together, the butterflies awakened in both your bodies.

When he figured out the words you’d drawn on his back, our little Dami wouldn’t know how to react. He wouldn’t know if you meant it, if it was real or just you playing around. Was it a writing of truth or just for fun? What if he’d guess it wrong? Was it really “I love you”? Was he imagining things? Out of doubt, he would opt for not saying anything, keeping quiet until he got clarification, until he was sure what he thought was indeed true. He didn’t want to assume something and ruin your relationship. He also didn’t want to raise any expectations, afraid he’d end up getting hurt in the end. So he’d wait, he would wait until you did it again, or until you told him in any other way. Seeing your confirmation would leave him in a frenzy, blushing redder than Jason’s helmet, getting as crazy as Dick when he can’t find his cereal in the pantry. Honestly? Damian would run away, hide himself from the shame of not knowing what to do and the shyness of a love confession. And you’d laugh, because you truly loved that little dwarf and his apparent inability to comprehend your affection was just one of the reasons why.