#When I find him. It will be unending
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Hannibal really didn't get beat up enough in the show, I think. He tormented Will so much but it feels like only half of it was what he did to Will and the other half was what OTHER people did to Will as a result of Hannibals actions.
Will feared walking into an institution and not being allowed to walk back out, and that came true thanks to Hannibal. He feared being psychologically dissected, noted, and studied - all of which happened in the BSHCI. He was put in a prime position to be poked and stared at, to have everyone ever who called him a freak be able to point at him behind bars and go "Look! I was right!". He questioned his own sanity because no one listened to him, and the one person that had was literally the one that put him there! His - dare I say first - friend who made him feel normal and not alone was literally the one to put him in the institute, to make people think they'd been right about Will Graham all along.
And he had to sit there through that, had to wonder if maybe everyone else was right, until he was sure it was Hannibal. But even that was little solace when he realised no one was coming to save him. It's why he turned to the manipulation so quickly and effectively, bc he realised no one else was going to get him out, he had to save himself and literally risk the death penalty while at it.
He had to sit for months through people gloating that they were right all along about how weird he is, at colleagues treating him like a stranger for crimes he didn't commit (and I will admit, it did not look good for him with all the evidence Hannibal planted & his altered mind state), through Alana saying she felt nothing romantically for him both privately and in front of a court. Beaten down already and then being made to feel like you're not even desirable, publicly, because it helps your case. To someone who already has trouble forming any sort of relationship - platonic or otherwise - and only has rapidly fraying connections while in the BSHCI.
And then when he gets out and no one even says the words 'I'm sorry' to him?? theres acknowledgements - I owe you an apology, I should've noticed - but no one actually says I am sorry. They just imply it. He had to sit through months of his worst fears coming true all while feeling like he's going crazy because no one else can see the truth (and it IS the truth!!) and then he doesn't even get real apologies and also now has his shit out there in the public being known as the guy that was arrested for being a serial killer.
So anyway. Hannibal deserves to get run over w a car is what I'm saying. And much more
#Breaking chairs over his head#Throwing plates at him#Hitting him at high speeds with a truck and then reversing to make sure I finish the job#Throttling him#He really didn't get beat up enough#He deserves many slaps#He's my pretty princess don't get me wrong#But oougghh#When I find him. It will be unending#Will deserves to rip his heart out and eat it#Hannibal#hannibal lecter#will graham#hannigram#hannibal nbc
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everyone loves talking about little jon in correlation to mr. spider but no one ever talks about how insufferable this kid was. i wouldnât wish sitting next to him in class upon my worst enemy
#if i had to do a group project with him iâd be so annoyed but at least he gets his work done#hc that heâs always read his books out loud like he does with statements btw. he stopped around middle schoolâ#â when enough people called him annoying for it#he definitely had a bowl cut until he was like 6. he looks like the type. and then THIS is what he upgraded to#real talk i love making fun of him as much as the next guy but heâs soooo relatable unfortunately#heâs just a little boy in an unending pursuit of knowledge. heâs new to the world and all he wants is to know how it all works.#and even at this age a part of him knows heâll never be able to satiate that curiosity#or something. anyways he would love reciting fun facts to strangers (no one else finds them very fun)#the magnus archives#tma#tma fanart#magpod#the magnus archives fanart#tma art#jonathan sims#the archivist tma#jarchivist#jon sims#jon tma#jonathan sims fanart#tma jon#jonathan sims art#artists on tumblr
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i have a physiognomy that is so aching for a cigarette
#just remembered that camus named his cat cigarette#truly the one good thing he did in his life that bastard i have unending amounts of hatred for him in my heart#anyway i was thinking this is maybe because i only look like the asian side of well me & those people were+are always smoking up chimneys#on the daily including my grandmother who lived to be waay over the 100s & my father who used to smoke 2 packs a day long before i was born#i just look like someone who would be a chainsmoker like it genuinely feels like that is what i am missing in my life#canny do tha right now cos i live with me mam & she would die if i did. & i would probably get even more emaciated & ugly:/ &TBH i am vain#mitigated... do you say that in english#i know what you are all probably thinking. just have a fag when you go outside you retarded loser#i WILL When ! i go back to the faculty if i find a cute girl to offer one to me.#which is exactly what i did when i was 14 only i was peer pressured but it OK because they were the two most beautiful girls in my class#one bullied me ( she also wiped her vomit on my back that same day on our way to smoke ) & the other was my bestfriend that year#sorry for giving them that privilege butlike if you saw them you would change your mind about my faltering values & ethics OK i am meek...
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âIsnât it tiresome, loving someone like me?â Viktor asked.
You set aside your book and looked over at him, brow raised. âYou want the honest answer?â You inquired and it was Viktorâs time to look at you quizzically, not use to having his question being answered with another question. However he soon learned quick this was how you would often set up your actually answer and indulged you regardless. âPreferablyâŚunless itâs an answer I would not like then I guess I have my reasons for hesitance.â Viktor replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
âWell I donât. I never found loving you tiresome, if anything I find it endearing, peaceful, warm and peaceful.â You then reached to cup his face between your hands, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs as you smiled softly at him. âLoving you is meaning I get to experience something new every single day and I find that beautiful.â You kissed his forehead as you finalised your thoughts. âYouâre beautiful Viktor.â
The silence afterwards permeated the air between you two as you watched the emotions flicker in Viktorâs gorgeous eyes, seeing his face try to figure out how to feel about your unashamed adoration of him, which sometimes he thought was undeserved in any capacity. âUnequivocally?â His voice was soft, softer then usual, and heavy with emotions as he try to look into your eyes for more answers to his seemingly unending questions and doubts.
You smiled as you peppered his face in a plethora of tender kisses as you made sure to appreciate every inch of his cheeks, jaw and nose as though you were appreciating an work of art or a sculpture, brought to life by the hands that carefully crafted him into existence. âUnequivocally my love, there is no disputing that.â You whispered against his lips before trailing down his neck where youâd kiss his pulse point, thankful everyday that you got to see your most beloved. âAnd I shall prove it to you everyday if thatâs what it takes to prove my words as real.â You add before pulling back to look at Viktorâs face, only to see him smiling, making him look youthful and ethereal.
âWhy would I ask such a thing of you when you already do so constantly and consistently.â Viktor said as he rested his head against your forehead, chucking lightly as though a weight had been removed from his shoulders. âI adore you my dear heart.â He adds and you couldnât help but smile as you cutely rubbed his nose with yours. âI adore you too my beloved so, so, so much because itâs what you deserve and so much more.â
#arcane#arcane imagines#arcane imagine#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#viktor x you#viktor fluff#viktor imagines#viktor imagine#viktor x reader#viktor arcane
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OnlyFans
Best Friend!Yang Jeongin x Afab!Reader
⌠Genre: Friends to Lovers - non-idol - [18+ Only]
⌠Content Description: 6.6k + 11 screenshots
⌠Summary: Your best friend finds out about your OnlyFans account which leads to you discovering how you really feel about him.
⌠CW: Unintentional exhibitionism(?), Unprotected sex [wrap it up party people] ⌠A/N: This is my FIRST Jeongin fic and I am hella excited! (and nervous) I really hope that you enjoy it! This is a hybrid of fake texts and story so make sure to open it all the way to see it all! AHH I'm so nervous.+ reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ⥠⧠Masterlist â§
Sleep abandoned you after you and Jeongin spoke, your thoughts were everywhere and nowhere and your body was working against you. Why does the fact that your best friend thinks that youâre hot turn you on? Why are you imagining him touching himself to the sounds of you moaning while you fuck yourself?
 Is he big?Â
How would he feel?Â
Wait - how did he not recognize your voice?Â
You never show your face, only the shoulders down, but youâve uploaded voice notes. Youâve done tons of horny rambles that he had to have listened to. Okay, wait wait wait, does he only get off to you? He said that youâre the only girl that he follows on the site⌠Okay, stop, brain shut the fuck up.Â
The next day you tried to operate how you normally would. You went to the gym, you got your morning coffee, you thought about Jeongin moaning at the sight of you, you screamed in your car and you went back home. Honestly, this is working out great.Â
You did everything that you could to distract yourself from the unending thoughts. You did laundry, watched TV, skipped rope on your balcony, you even started color organizing your closet. Thatâs when your phones started ringing with that tone that you know all too well.
 You stared at it for what felt like a second, you tried to calm yourself down and cursed yourself out in your head for making this such a big deal. He said that he doesnât care. He wonât mention it, heâll just get off to your videos and thatâs that. Jeongin is your best friend who finds you hot and touches himself to your videos, thatâs so normal. Youâre so normal about this.Â
By the time you finally hyped yourself up to answer his call the phone stopped ringing and you let out a huff of heavy air that you werenât even aware you were holding. Youâll call him backâŚlater.
Not even three minutes later thereâs knocking at your front door and you rush to open it. Youâre expecting a package today so this must be it. You swing the door open and your heart jumps out of your chest and runs down the hall. âAre you okay?âÂ
Jeongin waves in front of your face to grab your attention as you stare at him, unmoving. âI called, you didnât answer.â You clear your throat but end up choking a bit from how dry it is. You opt for nodding your head while you desperately swallow your spit to try and save you from further embarrassment.Â
âRight, yeah yeah come in, whatâs up?â You hastily stumble to the side as you open your door wider. He stalks in like he always does, comfortable and confident. âYou have my green jacket, Felix hyung wanted to borrow it tonight.â
âI gave that back, didnât I?â You smooth down your skirt, suddenly feeling super self conscious. Heâs seen you in this exact outfit more times than you can count but itâs different this time, right? No, itâs not supposed to be different. Weâre acting normal. Weâre so normal about this.
âNoona?â His fingers wrap around your wrist and you jump out of your thoughts, literally. âIs everything alright? You keep spacing out.âÂ
Has his hand always been this damn big? Thatâs all that you can think to yourself as you stare down at where heâs holding you. âIâm fine, Jeongin,â
âYou usually call me Innie.â He retorts with furrowed brows until it all clicks for him. âIs this about last night?âÂ
You pull away from him like heâs on fire and start power walking to your bedroom before he can say another word. âIâll go look for that jacket.â
You slam your room door closed behind you and sink to the floor against it immediately after. This is crazy, youâre acting crazy and horny and - and - fuck, has his hand always been that big?Â
Has he always called you noona that smoothly? Has he always been like⌠that? Wait, no, pull it together. Find the jacket and send him away so you can spiral in peace.Â
After about ten minutes of searching through the mess you made and battling your inner demons you find the jacket that Jeongin came for. When you leave your bedroom you expect to see him sitting on your couch but you find him in your kitchen instead. Heâs washing your dishes while he hums some song that youâre sure that you could identify if you concentrated but you canât think straight. Your brain isnât working at all because your best friend is standing there, at your sink, washing your dishes⌠In only a white tank top and gray sweatpants.Â
Your eyes find the discarded sports sweater he arrived in thrown sloppily over one of your counter stools before they quickly return to Jeonginâs toned back. This shirt should be illegal. He shouldnât be allowed to look this good.Â
You stand there, jacket in hand and thighs pressed together while you try to muster up the courage to say something, anything. Just as youâre about to speak he turns around with a cup full of water but itâs only full for a second before he jumps with a scream and pours it all over himself.
âYa, noona!â He huffs, bracing himself against the counter. âWhat the hell? You scared the life outta me.â He drops the now empty cup into the sink and braces himself with both hands against the marble.Â
âWhy are you just standing there?â You donât even hear his question. You canât hear anything except for the fast beating of your heart and incoherent screaming from your last brain cell as you take in the sight before you.Â
The front of his shirt is soaked and you can see right through the fabric sticking to each and every dip and contour of his unbelievable body. Has he always been⌠so hot? âNoona, seriously, what is going on with you? Do we need to talk about something?âÂ
He steps towards you and you take a clumsy step back. âI uh, found the jacket.â You sit the jacket on the stool where his sweater is then look back at him. You look him in the eyes this time to avoid possibly fainting but you quickly discover that his gaze is just as intoxicating.Â
âForget the jacket, Iâm trying to figure out if -â He takes another step towards you and you take two back.Â
âOkay, so Iâll see you later, right? Awesome, later Innie.â You rush back to your bedroom just as he takes another step to try to stop you. You slam the door shut and repeat the same routine as earlier. When did he get so hot?
What the fuck? Did he just ask you if you like it?âŚWhy is the answer yes? Why does that make every thought that youâve been thinking for the past 12 hours way worse? You gotta pull it together, you canât let a simple question cause you to spiral. He probably didnât even mean it like thatâŚright?
You spend the next three hours trying to forget that text. You take a shower and cook yourself a dinner that you barely even touch because itâs not what you want. Itâs not him, do you want him?Â
You drag yourself to your bedroom after you stuff your leftovers in the fridge and plop down on your bed. You scream into your mattress once or twice before you decide that you canât take it anymore, you need to do something. Anything.Â
Before you can even really think about it youâre in your closet that should honestly count as a second bedroom but you're fine with it being your mini studio. This is where youâve filmed every video, where you capture every picture and record every ramble. This is where you are when you make the content that Jeongin loves. Maybe heâll love this too.
You make yourself a bit comfortable in front of the large mirror on the wall and turn on your voice recorder. âHey thereâŚDo you have a second? I just wanna get something outta my head.âÂ
You settle into the fluffiness of your bean bag chair and spread your legs in front of the mirror. Your pajama shorts ride up a bit and the thin gusset exposes just enough of your cunt for you to take in. âIâve been thinking about you all day, yeah you. I canât get you off of my mind and itâs driving me crazy.âÂ
You sigh into your phone, glancing down at the recorder to make sure that itâs still running. Your free hand runs over the scarf tying your hair back and trails down the side of your neck. Your fingers brush over your sweet spots slowly and carefully kinda how you think he would do it.
âI want you.â Itâs more of a whisper than you intended but you keep going. âI want you so badly that itâs driving me mad. I bet you know that though, donât you?â
You nearly say Jeonginâs name at the end of that sentence and you nearly moan it into the air when your fingers brush over your nipples. âTell me that you thought about me too.âÂ
Your hands start moving faster, grazing your covered and exposed skin with a hungry haste that youâre sure that Jeongin would recreate. Heâd explore you with a lust driven by curiosity and desire. Heâd rip you apart and take his sweet time putting you back together. Heâd be rough and gentle, slow and fast, shallow and deep. Heâd be everything.
You didnât even realize that you were still talking into the recorder when your eyes snap open. You have no clue what youâve said and you have no clue when you started rubbing at your clit but you donât care. Moans are tumbling from your chapped lips as drool threatens to spill over the corners.
Thereâs nothing but pure carnal desire lingering around you and itâs all for your best friend. All for a man that youâve never looked twice at until today, or have you? You always knew that Jeongin was attractive. You always felt a tingle when heâd hold you or play around with you but youâve learned to push it down. It was manageable until last night. Thatâs when the dam broke.
âIn- I - I need you.â You almost said it, almost let it slip. âTouch me please, please.â
Your fingers are slipping inside before you can even process it. Youâre stroking up against your g-spot at a pace that should be painful but you feel nothing but bliss because youâre thinking of nothing but him. Him him him.Â
The slick sounds of your cunt are loud enough to be caught on the recorder but you wouldnât be surprised if theyâre completely overshadowed by your moans. âMake me cum, please please please, mâ gonna cum.âÂ
Your vision is going white before you can even take a deep breath, it gets caught in your throat as you cry out. Youâre panting, mumbling curses left and right and then right as youâre ending the recording it finally slips. âInnieâ
After sitting and staring at your reflection for maybe thirty minutes you finally pulled yourself up off of your bean bag chair and freshened up. You plopped down onto your bed face first and screamed, this seems to be becoming a routine.Â
Once you get a grip you sit up against your pillows and stare at the new audio. How could you make this while thinking about Jeongin? Are you a terrible friend? Can you blame him for being hot? Can you say that itâs all his fault and just live life hating him for ever finding your account? No, I mean, yeah you could but that would be stupid.
You load the audio into your Only Fans account and put together the new post. You usually wouldnât think twice about uploading a ramble, youâd usually listen to it in your headphones to check the quality and then throw it online for your subscribers to enjoy but this one feels different. This one feels wrong to post. After a bit of debating you take a deep breath and go for it. It canât be that bad right?
Nevermind
Itâs been about an hour since you posted the audio and itâs gotten back to back likes and comments. Youâve even gotten some chat requests with tips that you plan to reply to later but the one that just came in caught your attention.Â
You donât know what it is about it, maybe itâs the username or the energy behind their message but youâre almost a thousand percent positive that itâs Jeongin on the other side of this chat.Â
You sound so pretty in your new audio. Youâre really fueling my imagination tonight. I.2.n.8 Sent a tipÂ
You stare at the message for so long that you forget to blink. This is so obviously him. The user name is a dead giveaway. Jeongin is messaging you about your new ramble⌠you shouldnât reply.
Fuck.
You replied. You replied and you flirted so fucking hard that youâre sure that heâs blushing in his bed just like you are right now. Youâve talked to plenty of guys like this. You flirt and make them feel special and then boom more tips but you donât even care about the money right now, not when youâre having so much fun texting - sexting - the only man thatâs been on your mind. Your best friend.Â
When you see Jeongin the next day at a small get together you expect it to be awkward. You expected for him to give you knowing looks from across the crowded restaurant table but he didnât. He acted completely normal like he hasnât been sexting his best friend for the past eight hours.Â
You tried your best to mimic his demeanor. You spoke to him as normally as you possibly could and as the night went on it got easier to ignore the elephant in the room. You stole some food off of his plate and even sang karaoke with him at the bar that you went to afterwards. You almost forgot about the messages, until you got home.Â
Care to help me with a situation, sweetie? Iâll make it worth it, I promise. I.2.N.8 Sent a tip
Holy Fuck, thatâs a big tip⌠like, money⌠that kind of tip. You sat on the edge of your bed with a messy cocktail of cheap liquor running through your veins and giving you confidence to do things that will surely have you screaming into your mattress later, and not in the way that you really want.Â
You strip down and head to your closet, clicking a few pictures in poses that youâve never tried before and some that are your tried and true classics. You hold your breath as you organize the album and attach a price to it. If he really wants to see it he can pay, youâll be needing the money to fund your therapy sessions after this anyway cause this teasing is driving you insane.
Right when you send the set to the âmysteryâ guy a text from Jeongin drops down into view and youâre instantly covered in goosebumps.
Ayen đĽâŁď¸: I had fun with you today, missed you. Ayen đĽâŁď¸: I work late tomorrow but Iâm free the day after, wanna come over?
This is suspicious⌠right? You should decline. Yeah definitely decline, you donât wanna risk anything happening that could ruin your friendship.Â
Youâre screaming into your mattress again.
 You accepted the invitation as you were thinking about declining it.Â
You never stood a chance.Â
You donât sleep, instead you plan a cute but chill outfit to wear when you go over to his place. Itâs not a date but you still wanna be cute, this isnât weird. This is normal.Â
Whatâs not normal is the way that youâve been glued to your phone since this chat with Jeongin popped up. Youâre not neglecting your other messages but you do spend extra time on his chat. You give him exclusive content that barely costs a thing and youâre fucking enjoying it. Youâre addicted. So much so that when you get to Jeonginâs house the next day for your hang out itâs all that you can think about.
Youâve been here for about an hour and a half. You thought that it was just gonna be you and Jeongin. You thought that it was gonna be a nice best friend date. Itâs not.Â
âYou seriously never saw that video before?â Jisung asks Felix with a mouth half full of whatever he ordered a bit ago. Youâre sitting next to Jeongin on the couch with his roommate Seungmin next to him and his other roommate Felix on the floor with Jisung. âNever.â
They fall into some conversation that everyone seems to be paying attention to but you. Youâre too busy staring at your blacked out phone screen as you try to cope with the fact that youâre sitting next to the man that youâre secretly sexting.Â
He hasnât made anything weird just like he promised, everything is fine. You just need to calm - what the fuck?
Your phone chimes and your screen lights up to show a browser notification. An OnlyFans notification. You look over to the man next to you to catch him stuffing his phone in his pocket while he laughs at something that Felix said. Did he seriously just text you?
He did. You open your browser and the message is right there. Staring at you while you stare at him.
Bet youâre lookinâ so pretty today, sweetie. I.2.n.8 Sent a tip Mind showing me what youâre wearing today?Â
You gulp down the spit pooling in your mouth and choke a bit but you hide the cough well, you think. Why would he text you now? Why here? Maybe this is a good chance to see if itâs really him. Yeah, this is your chance.Â
You type the cutest reply you can think of while your heart does the cha cha slide in your chest and hit send. You hold your breath as you wait for the ding but youâre choking once again when you actually hear it.Â
Jeongin reaches into his pocket and smiles down at his phone. He doesnât unlock it. He doesnât check the message. But you know what he does? He fucking smiles at you.Â
âYou okay, noona? Youâre spacing out again.â Seungmin is replying before you can even open your mouth.Â
âMaybe if you actually spoke to her instead of texting that OnlyFans girl she wouldnât have to daydream.â The other two instigate Seungminâs teasing and Jeongin only rolls his eyes with a smile.Â
âYouâd be obsessed with her too if youâve seen what Iâve seenâ He settles back into the cushions a bit, extending his arm to the back of the couch behind you. He feels so much closer to you like this, or maybe itâs just because heâs talking about you to all of your friends. âSheâs worth obsessing over.â
âShare her account then.â You jump a bit at the suggestion, it was quick but it was enough to gain Felix and Jisungâs attention. Jeongin is the opposite of you. He isnât phased by the suggestion one bit, he just smiles down at his lap and shakes his head. âNope, sheâs a treasure that I plan to keep to myself.â
Seungmin scoffs and the other two start with the teasing again but Felixâs gaze keeps floating back to you. You try your best to relax, no one knows that youâre the OnlyFans girl so they arenât actually talking about you. But this on top of Jeongin texting you while sitting right next to you is starting to be too much.
âYeah yeah, tease all you want, Iâm getting a drink.â Jeongin asks if anyone else wants anything from the kitchen and collects requests from almost everyone except for you. You just sit there quietly staring at your lap, quietly dying inside until the burning in your chest gets your feet moving.Â
âIâll be back.â You mumble but only Felix replies, heâs the only one that heard you and his eyes follow you as you take the same path that Jeongin did a second ago.
Your friend is looking into the open fridge when you get to the kitchen. Heâs grabbing a bottle of water when he notices you come around the corner.
âHey, did you want -âÂ
âNot here.â You whisper through clenched teeth, itâs quick and quiet enough for you to get the point across and then escape. âDo not message me here, are you insane?â Jeongin closes the fridge, water bottle in hand and a grin on his lips.
âWhat?â You look back to make sure that youâre still alone before stepping closer to him. âDo not text me here.â
âWhy would I be texting you when youâve been right next to me?â He sips from the bottle in his hands before sitting it down. âI think that youâre confused about -â
âYouâre I.2.n.8, I know you are. Youâre the one whoâs been tipping me and texting me on OF for days.â Jeongin looks down at the tile in an attempt to hide the smug grin on his face. âYou promised not to make it weird.â
âI kept my promise.â He shrugs, looking back up at you with a different gaze, a darker one. âI havenât made anything weird. I havenât brought it up. Itâs you who thinks that Iâm texting you.â
He steps closer, leaving little room between you two. You can feel your face getting hot, the temperature is rising with each second that your eyes are on his. Your thighs press together and you take it as a desperate plea from your body but you donât know what for. â Do you want it to be me texting you?âÂ
The air feels too thick with him so close, you canât breathe. Itâs too much. You turn away, desperate to retreat back to your safe space on the couch but he grabs your wrist before you can escape.Â
His other hand finds your waist and guides your back against the marble counter next to the fridge. âDonât run away from me again, noona.â Thereâs barely an inch between you two and the air feels dry at this point. Your tongue feels too heavy to control in your mouth so you dip it out to skate across your bottom lip. Jeongin watches the movement carefully, too carefully.
âTell me, do you want it to be me, hm?â He shifts, caging you between his arms as he leans against the counter. You catch the flex of his muscles from the corner of your eye and it makes you feel dizzy, what is going on? âDo you want it to be me who tells you how badly I wanna ruin such a pretty thing like you?âÂ
You bite back a groan and sink into the surface behind you. He steps forward, now impossibly close as he moves to whisper in your ear. âIs that what you want, sweetie?â
Oh fuck, it is him. Itâs really him.
âJeongin, we canâtâ Youâre whispering to him so he whispers back. âCanât what? What are you thinking about? Iâve only asked you a question.â
âYou canât be this close to me.â Your words feel forced and your limbs feel heavy as you try to find a way to settle against him. âThis isnât right.â
âYeah? So you touching yourself in your closet and moaning my name is fine? But this isnât right?â Your eyes widen the second those words leave his mouth, how did he know that you film in your closet? Heâs been there a couple of times of course, heâs sat in your bean bag chair and heâs helped you pick out outfits but he never knew that you do Only Fans. So if he knows that youâve been filming in your closet that means he recognized it from one of your videos⌠which means that he also had to have recognized you.Â
âYou knew that it was me the whole time didnât you?â Your eyes flick from his to his lips and back up. âYou knew that it was my account.â His lips spread into a wide mouth smile as he mimics your previous pattern with his dark pupils.Â
âMaybe I did.â He moves his hand to your arm, running his fingers over the exposed flesh of your wrist. Every touch feels like fire as the pads of his fingers glide up your forearm. âMaybe I hoped it was you.â
His fingers press into your flesh every so slightly, itâs enough to make you shift into a firmer press of your thighs. âMaybe I only subscribed to the account because it looked like you.â
His fingers take their time going over the curve of your shoulder. They tease the strap of your top for a second, before dancing up the curve of your neck. âGuess I got lucky, huh?â
That was what tipped the bucket. That is what had you crashing your lips to his and wiping that smug smile off of his face in an instant. He moans into your mouth before you can moan into his, his hand cups your neck, pulling you closer as his other hand grabs at your waist.
Itâs heated and sloppy. He feels just as desperate as you do with every clumsy swipe of his tongue over yours. Youâre panting into his mouth, only pulling away for half a second to breathe before youâre tasting him again.Â
Your hands grab at his flexing arms, scratching and kneading the flesh before you move to make fists into the fabric of his shirt. He feels unreal, heâs more than what you dreamed of. He feels so strong and soft and he tastes like lust itself.
You press your body further into his, taking in the matching thump of his heart to yours as your lips move in an impossible rhythm. Itâs clear that you both feel the same hunger, the same longing, the same need for each other. Maybe this was driving him insane too.
âJump.â His command is muffled and wet against your lips but you understand him and swiftly obey. His hands move to the back of your thighs to help you up onto the counter and he briskly fills in the space between your parted legs with his slim waist.Â
You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands wander up your clothed thighs, his fingers dig into the plush flesh with a deep groan. âFuck, do you know how long Iâve thought of this?â He trails kisses over your cheek and over the shell of your ear.Â
âI watched every video.â He moves down the curve of your neck, nipping and kissing the flesh to milk moans from your parted lips. âI listened to every audio. I saved every picture.âÂ
He sucks bruises into your clavicle, licking over the rising cherry marks and planting sloppy kisses. âBut none of that is as good as this.â Youâre panting and moaning into his ear. Words donât make sense. They jumble and disappear behind your eyes with each rough grab and desperate lick.Â
âDo you feel as good as you look, sweetie?â Your eyes flutter open when he pulls back from your neck. Both of your lids are low and your eyes have a lustful haze fogging them. âCan I please feel you?â His hands explore you while you fight with your tongue to form words. They skim over your curves and make you feel like youâre electric. Youâve wanted this, you wanted this so badly.Â
âWe shouldnât.â Your mouth forms the wrong words and you curse yourself for it. Jeongin just nods at you, hands still exploring your body until they reach your breast. He cups them, squeezing a bit and running his thumbs over your hardened nipples.Â
âWe shouldnâtâ He repeats after you, massaging your breast more intensely and pressing the prominent bulge in his sweatpants firm against your cunt. Your breath hitches and your eyes flutter shut.
âWe canâtâ It comes out as a moan as he leans in and sucks on the flesh on the other side of your neck. Your fingers rake through his hair and he groans at the slight tug you give. âYouâre my best friend.âÂ
âDonât worry about making things weird.â He whispers between kisses to the shell of your ear. âJust worry about what you want.â
He pulls away again, fox eyes staring into yours. âYouâre not gonna lose me, donât worry.â Your eyes search his for a second and you can feel your resolve breaking.Â
 âTouch me.â Your voice is barely above a whisper but he heard you, heâs just going to act like he didnât. âSay it again.â
âTouch me, Innie, please. I wanâ it.â His hand is slipping down the front of your shorts in an instant. Everything is back to being clumsy and rough, fast and desperate. He moans when the pads of his fingers run over your slick folds.
âNo panties, sweetie?â His eyes roll back and he bites at his bottom lip to try to control himself.Â
âIâm sorry, I canât do this.â He hooks his fingers into the side of your shorts and starts trying to work them down your thighs. âI need you, itâs driving me mad.âÂ
You lift up for him and when you come back down his lips are on yours. âYouâre driving me insane.â He whispers against your spit slick lips, his forehead is pressed to yours as his fingers roam your slippery cunt. He covers you in your own slick, dipping in and out of your folds and teasing your waiting hole.
âPlease, no teasing, I canât take it.â He rubs your clit, once then twice before slipping back down. âInnie, please Iâll be so good. Iâll be so good for you please just fuck me.âÂ
He pushes a finger into you slowly, taking in the soaked warmth that he caused. This is all because of him and his cock twitches at the thought. You moan and arch your back, your nails dig into his forearms as he moves. His rhythm is steady and unfamiliar, it makes your body sing in a way that no one else ever has.
âYouâre so tight, noona. So wet.â His eyes are glued to where his finger is disappearing inside of you. He adds another, pushing in slowly before taking his previous pace. âOh fuck, this is how it looks when you fuck yourself. When you take those toys and stuff your cunt. Shit, itâs so hot.â
Youâre grinding into his hand, meeting his fingers when they fill you to the knuckle. Your tongue is poked between your teeth in an attempt to keep yourself quiet but youâve already failed. Each thrust is met with a whining whimper that Jeongin eats up like candy.Â
âInnie, Innie, c-can you curl them please? Curl your fingers inside of - holy shit, yes yes yes.â He watches your eyes roll back as your orgasm builds and builds.Â
âDid you think of me?â His voice is thick with lust as he watches you. âWhen you made your last audio, did you think about me?â Youâre shaking your head before you can even filter the question. You admit it shamelessly as you chase your high thatâs dangling in front of you.
âYes, I did I did, I thought of you.â Your orgasm rushes up your legs and blurs your vision with one more stroke of his fingers but heâs pulling out before you can ride it out. You whimper at the loss but a gasp quickly follows when youâre filled with something thicker.
âI know.â He moans, bracing himself against the cabinet behind your head as he pushes into you. âYou said my name in the audio, you know that?â
He bottoms out with a groan, your cunt is spasming around him as your previous orgasm rips through you but you can already feel another one building as the first one subsides. His other hand settles at the nape of your neck and he pulls you in for a searing kiss.Â
You canât breathe being this full of him. With his tongue exploring your mouth and his cock stretching your walls. It feels like you're suffocating in the most delicious way. âShit, your pussy takes - takes me so well.â You can feel his control dissolving. Itâs evident in the way he pants against you and how his dark eyes droop lower and lower with each unsteady pull of his hips.
âI wanna take my time with you.â He whispers against your lips. âI wanna but I canât.â Heâs whining, moaning and cursing into the air as he drags against your walls. You canât even really hear him if youâre being honest. Between the sloppy sounds of your cunt being fucked, the rapid beating of your heart and ringing in your ears youâre completely clocked out. Utterly brain-dead.Â
âPlease, let me hear you. Please, I wanna know what you sound like when I fuck you.â Your voice shakes with a moan of his name as he switches his pace. His thrusts become faster and deeper, his breathing ragged, heâs doing his best to fuck you how heâs seen you fuck yourself. Heâs doing his best to ruin you the same way that he imagined every time that heâd jerk his cock to your content.
 âMore more more, please. Deeper, I wanâ it deeper.â His hands move to your thighs at your request and he pulls your ass to the very edge of the counter. He supports your legs on either side of him while you brace yourself against the side of the fridge.Â
He pushes into you until his pelvis is flush against you. Every single thick inch of him is buried inside of you. Your pussy swells around him, squeezing him so perfectly that he lets his head fall forward with a moan. The hand that isnât against the fridge balls the fabric of his shirt against his chest and slowly pulls it up until his torso is exposed to you.Â
âOh, fuck.â Your eyes snap shut once you feel him twitch inside of you. You let your hand run over his toned core, taking in every firm dip from under his fallen shirt. âMove, please. Please, Innie.â
ââM gonna cum if I move.â His voice is strained as he rummages for any last bit of self control but heâs lost it all. He pulls back slowly, swirling his hips to hit every spot that you could imagine and more. Your pussy clenches around him as he sinks back in and he nearly busts at the feeling.
âI can feel you in my fucking stomach.â Thatâs all that you had to say to break him. Thatâs all that you had to say to have him pushing deeper into you then pulling back with every intention of ruining you. The only sound that you can hear is skin against skin decorated by your harmonizing moans.
 His eyes are shut tight as he moves, heâs biting his tongue, trying his best not to whine and moan like he does into his hand while watching your videos. You on the other hand are loud. Youâre so fucked out and dazed that you can barely remember where you are. You couldnât answer the first question asked to you even if you tried, the only thing that you can think of right now is Jeongin. Everything is him. Him, him, him.
âInnie âm gonna cum, youâre gonna make me. Gonna make me cum, fuck fuck fuck.â You scratch into his abs, leaving pretty red marks for him to remember this moment. Your head falls back as you float in the feeling of being dumb with pleasure. His hips slam into you at their own accord and you just take it. You let him fuck you just how he wants, just how you need it.Â
âCum, please cum. You feel too good. sweetie. Gonna make me cum.â His thrusts become more frantic, his movements more erratic. Your body is trembling and your mind is blank. A familiar fuzziness takes over your vision as you lose control, you welcome it. You savor it and quietly beg for more. âCum on my cock, noona.â
Heâs begging and youâre complying. Your vision blurs with a hazy white, your breathing hitches, and your body trembles with pleasure. Youâre more than positive that your damn near screaming his name as he fucks you through what might be the most intense orgasm of your life. âThatâs it, Thank you for your cum. Thank you.âÂ
His fingers dig into your thighs as his thrusts become unpredictable. He canât take much more and he knows it. As much as he wanted to savor you he just canât help but to get lost in the way you feel. He can swear that you were made for him. âOh fuck, oh, fuck, Iâm cumming.â With one final thrust heâs pulling out and milking his cock of thick ropes of white that settle on your inner thigh and drips down to frame your glistening cunt.Â
He slumps forward, forehead resting against yours as you both pant hot and heavy satisfaction into the air. The silence is loud, almost louder than your pounding heart and racing thoughts as your eyes flutter open to meet Jeonginâs.
You stare at each other, itâs soft and almost comfortable but thereâs still this looming uneasiness in your chest that makes you feel like you made a big mistake. It makes you feel like you just lost something. âHere.â He speaks first, pulling back from you to reach for the water bottle that he had earlier.
âDrink this, please.â Heâs gentle as he opens the bottle and raises it to your lips. He tips your head back with a bent finger and turns the bottle up for you. âAre you okay?â
You swallow hard, panting for another second before you try nodding your head but you donât know what to tell him. âHey.â He grabs your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts for a second and calming you with his touch. âEverythingâs alright. We didnât ruin anything.âÂ
He smiles softly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips that you canât help but melt into. Maybe heâs right. Maybe youâre just nervous to confront all of this, maybe youâre just scared to admit to yourself that you want him. You want him so badly and so much more.
He pulls back and you sigh, nodding your head with a whisper. âIâm okay.âÂ
âLet me clean you up and we can talk?â He starts fixing himself up and you canât help but to snort a laugh. âI feel like we did this in reverse order.â
He smiles as he moves over to the sink. âYeah, maybe.â The two of you laugh softly as he wets a couple of paper towels. Itâs quiet again. It's comfortable. Everything will be alright.
âYour bedroom is literally right down the hall, you couldnât fuck there?â Seungmin yells to the two of you and you freeze, Holy fuckaroni, you forgot that they were here.Â
âYou never even brought me my drink!â Jisung follows and Jeongin rolls his eyes and comes back over to you with the paper towels. Felix yells right after Jisung and you canât help but to break out into laughter with Jeongin as he cleans you up.Â
âAre you two not confused that they just fucked? Is it just me?.âÂ
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Worth the Price
Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader
Synopsis: Aemond does everything to prove that he is worthy of youâ even if it means that he would be a kinslayer twice.
Warnings: Aemond Plots Against Aegon, Oral Sex (f & m receiving), Mature, 18+, Semi-Public Relations, Choking, Edging, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read
Word Count: 5,585
A/N: Reposting bc I was uncertain about this dynamic, but fuck it, I have a soft spot for a Lannister reader and cannot let it rest in my drafts.
Aemond had wanted you since he was young, but as a second son, he would always come second best to his brother. You were a daughter of house Lannister, betrothed to Aegon the moment you were born, an alliance not to keep their Valyrain blood pure but rather to be mixed with gold. You had grown in the walls of the keep, taken from your motherâs arms a few moons after your birth, and grew up under the supervision of your uncle, Tyland Lannister, as a measure to keep you acquainted with your betrothed, Aegon.Â
However, such arrangements instilled since your infancy were changed when Queen Alicent was offered a bastard for her only daughter. The queen was quick to cut the engagement made in your infancy and instead betrothed her firstborn son to her firstborn daughter, offering Aemond as your consolation prize. Aemond, who was ten at the time, was thrilled to hear of such arrangements, finally gaining one of the things his heart yearned for the most: you. However, he could see the quiet and greatly covered disappointment not only in your house but in you as wellâ you were set to be queen, now you were now only to be the lady-wife of a mere second-born son.Â
Aemond never truly heard such qualms leave your lips. He was fortunate enough that you had always been keen and kind to him in childhood, and your affection for him only grew in time. But he could not help but be affected by your quiet and greatly oppressed disappointment. For the first ten years of your life, you were prepared and molded to be a queen, hours of unending lessons on how to play the part wasted as you were to be bound to a mere second son. Aemond could not stand for it. He ambitioned to be so much more. He could not stand to be just the second. Second son, second in line, second in your heart.Â
âMy love, are you listening?â You asked as your husbandâs gaze was afar, and you had noticed his attention was not on you. You furrowed your brows as he made no reply, tugging at his arm to bring him out of his trance. âIâ I apologize, my heart, I was thinking of another matter,â You pursed your lips and hummed, âAnd praytell, what matter may that be? Certainly, it is of much importance that you have started ignoring me,â Aemond bit his lip to hinder his amused smirk; he just absolutely adored how you were never afraid to voice out and demand his undivided attentionâ in others, he would find that absolutely insufferable, but of course, that sentiment was not the same for his dear lady-wife.Â
Aemond sighed and could not help but kiss you, unbothered that you two were in the halls and anyone could walk in and see such passion exuding from his usually stoic and rigged demeanor. As your lips parted and Aemondâs body was alight by the feel of your lips and the taste of you, you simply raised your brow, silently urging him to tell the matters that plagued his mind. Aemond tucked a strand of your golden hair and sighed once more, âNothingâ just mere matters of the realm that the king is too incompetent to comprehend and tend to,â You nodded, âThen he is lucky to have youâ his brother forever capable and loyal to him and the kingdom,â Aemond bit his tongue. âYou must steer him in the right direction, my love. We are already at war; we cannot have the kingdom in shambles because of Aegonâs squandering self. You have always been the diligent one, unending hours poured into learning the histories of your house and training with your sword⌠your great knowledge must be exercised greatly in this hour of war.â Aemond could only nod his agreement. You smiled and cupped his cheek, tracing his scar, and you hummed as Aemond pressed his cheek further into your soft palm.Â
âNow go; I believe that it is the hour of the small council. Best be there and see to it that your brother does not humiliate your familyâs claim to the throne further,â You say, reluctantly urging him to let go of his hold on you, even though you were always quick to miss his touch. Aemond shook his head, âDo not be so stubborn,â you said, and you smiled further when Aemond wrapped both of his arms around your waist. You rose to the tip of your toes and pecked your husbandâs lips as encouragement. Even though you had shared his kisses countless of times, you still felt the quiet tingle on your plush lips as you two did such actions. âVery well then, I shall do whatever my lady-wife should ask of me,â He said against your lips, making your smile widen. You parted and tried to walk off, but Aemond took hold of your wrist and pulled you back to him, a laugh escaping from your lips, and you rested your hands atop his chest. âAnd where are you off to?âÂ
You smirked, âTo some engagements for the court that I offered Helaena reprieve from. And after, you shall find me in our chambers⌠warming our bed⌠waiting impatiently for you.â You whispered the final part, watching as Aemondâs lilac eye darkened with want, pupils dilated that it made your core turnâ finding it utterly flattering how quickly your husband will always grow in want of you. âNow go; the quicker you are to attend the meeting, the quicker they are to end, and you can be my arms.â You said and gave a final kiss on your husbandâs cheek before hastily walking off, afraid that Aemondâs wants would get the better of him and take you against the alcove in the hall; it had occurred once or twice before.Â
Aemond stomped off the room of the small council after a rather aggravating session with his brother. Seeing Aegon be so clueless with the matters of the realm and the war was pathetic. And in a way, Aemond found great satisfaction in thatâ seeing Aegon struggle to comprehend his words as he spoke in the ancient tongue, his brother unable to articulate even just one sentence without stammering like a simpleton was quite amusing but overly embarrassing. As the meeting ended, Aemond was quick to rise to his feet and leave, overly impatient to be with youâ savoring every second in your arms before he had to leave quietly in the night to make good of his secret plottings with Ser Criston.Â
Aemond walked the halls that led to his chambers, each step fervent and quick. The fading sun illuminated his chambers when he entered, setting it aglow in an amber hue. âIâve been waiting,â Aemond heard you breathlessly call, his head quickly turning to your bed; he squinted his eye as he could not see you through the canopy covers. Aemond wasted no time to march in your direction; his breath caught in his throat as he saw your figure covered by nothing but a thin sheet that was comparable to what the whores in the street of silk wore. You lounged laxly in the middle of the bed, your body in full display for your husband, who stared at you dumbfounded and filled with desire.Â
âSeven hells,â Aemond could not help but mutter in pure amazement. His knees felt weak, and his stomach coiled painfully in burning want of you. âDo you not like it?â You frowned as he only stood there, you feigned innocenceâ of course, you knew he would like it. You knew your husband better than he knew himself. Having grown up with him, you knew every possible thing there is to know about Aemond. Aegon may have been your betrothed at the start, but you were not at all keen to know him to such a deeper level than you had his brother.Â
You went to the edge of the bed to meet your husband, who stood by the foot of it, kneeling before him as he hungrily raked his gaze through your body, yet he still did not dare to move. âHas my display rendered you simple, my prince?â You asked lowly, peeking up at him through your lashes and watching as the ball on his throat bobbed and hearing how his breathing turned ragged. You hummed and raised your hand to caress his cheek, rising higher to be met with his face, slyly pushing your breast against his clothed chest. Aemond groaned at just the simple feeling of that. You ghosted your lips against his jaw and neck, your fingers effortlessly undoing the buckles of his leather doublet.Â
Your hand slowly trailed south after you had successfully removed his upper clothing; you heard the catch in Aemondâs breath as your fingers trailed his toned chest and torso. Every single inch of him was carved by the gods and embodied a warrior. Aemond hissed as he felt you cup his needing length through his trousers, watching as a sly smirk rose to your lips. âI see that you are quite⌠tense, my love,â You whispered against his lips, catching as his eye fluttered to a close as you added pressure into his length. âI am.â He gritted, and your smirk widened. âHm⌠tell me then what do you needâ what do you want, my prince?â You taunted and felt him shudder as you slipped your hand into his trousers, finally letting him feel skin against skin.
âI want⌠I need you, little wife. I desperately need you,â He muttered as his eye opened. Aemond moved to kiss your lips, but you instead lowered yourself to be met with his length, yanking down his trousers and letting your lips wrap around the tip of his needing and weeping cock. Aemondâs hands lost themselves in your hair, fisting the gold strands in utter pleasure, hissing as you sucked his length, urging yourself to take his cock deeper into your throat. Lewd sounds of your and Aemondâs heavy breathing, along with you gagging on his cock echoed through the chambers. Quiet praises leave your husbandâs lips as you pleasure him with your mouth. You reached out to fondle his stones, earning a loud groan from him, and his head tilted to the heavens. Aemond could only stand there and marvel at you, his eye torn as to what to stare upon, your pretty face or your ample behind that hung in the air and squirmed with each of your pleasurable movements. He began to wonder what he had done to have you as his lady wife and pondered the ways he could prove himself worthy of you.Â
Aemond felt himself ready to come undone, and he forcefully slipped out his cock from your lips, earning a whine from you. âHad I done something wrong?â You panted as you wiped away the traces of drool on your chin, looking up at Aemond with slight hurt in your eyes. Your husband was quick to shake his head and cup your cheeks, âNoâ you could never do me wrong, my heart,â He reassured, but you felt yourself pout and wonder as to why he had ceased your actions, if you were being honest, you quite enjoyed sucking his cock.Â
âThen whââ Your words were left unfinished as you felt Aemond cup your dripping heat. Your eyes widened, and the earlier smirk on your lips had now flown to your husbandâs. âAlready so wet for me⌠you are a saint, my heart. Tending to my needs first even though you yourself are in desperate want of release.â Aemond hummed as your eyes rolled back; he effortlessly slipped two digits into your dripping core. You mewled out his name, squealing as he curled the digits and as his thumb fervently rubbed your sensitive pearl. âI want your cock,â You said distractedly, any form of decorum or chasteness gone as your want for Aemond had made you utterly desperate.Â
Aemond let out an amused breath, âOf course you do,â He taunted and smashed his lips unto yours. You clawed at his toned arm as you felt your release bubbling, but before you could finally feel the climax you sought, Aemond parted your lips and ceased the pleasure of his fingers. You whined, glaring at your husband, who only stared down at you in amusement as he brought his fingers to his lips and licked off your essence. âPatience, my heart. All that you want shall come in due time,â He whispered his oath, and you huffed as he walked away, leaving you to wonder what had gotten into his mind.Â
You lay on the bed as your husband went to one corner of your chambers. Your legs were spread, and your cunt was pulsating in need. You could not help yourself as your fingers slipped along the wet folds, holding back your moans as you touched yourself because you could not wait for your husband to give you your release. Aemond stilled as he heard your once still breathing hitch and the distant and quiet sound of your wetness. He turned to the bed and saw as your back was arched, and your fingers disappeared to pleasure your cunt.Â
He took large strides only to witness you on the verge of an orgasm that he had denied you of. You groaned as Aemond took hold of your wrist, your second time being denied your release. âYouâre being cruel, husband,â You whined as you stared up at your husband, a wicked glint in his eye. âPlease, Aemond⌠I need you,â You breathed out, and all he did was hum. That was then you realized he held something in his other hand. You sat up, skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Aemond moved his lips to pepper kisses on the side of your neck, bitting to leave his mark as a reminder as to who you belonged to.Â
âOpen it,â Aemond murmured against your skin as he placed a velvet box into your hands. You frowned as he continued on to pepper kisses on your neck and down the swell of your breasts, ripping off the thin sheet you had worn. You did as he told and felt a gasp escape your lips as you saw what was inside and as his fingers pinched the bud of your tit. âWâWhat is this for?â You said mind befuddled as you did not know where to focus, your husbandâs gift or his pleasure. âIt is for you, of course.â He said plainly, took the ruby tiara into his hands, and moved to place it atop your head. Aemond grew further with need at the sight of you flushed and naked; the only thing you had on was the tiara he had commissioned for you.Â
You stared up at your husband in wonder, âIâ Itâs lovely⌠thank you, but my love, I am in no position to warrant a tiaraâ it is rather inappropriate, do you not think?â You asked and tried your best to focus as Aemond fondled your breasts. Aemond placed open kisses onto the side of your breasts, trying to form his words. âAemond,â You called and Feld his face to look you in the eye. You delicately took off his eye patch as his lips pursed. âWhat is this for?â You asked once again.Â
âDo you wish to be queen?â He instead asked you, and you were rendered speechless. âDo not deny it, my heart⌠You were born and bred with the purpose of being queen of the seven kingdoms.â He sighed, and you tried to find your words. âEven now, you bear the duties of a Queen that Helaena cannot tend to,â He added, as you were always by his sisterâs side, aiding her with her duties until she all together left the role up to you. You let out a heavy breath. âI⌠Sometimes I doâ seeing that was my whole purpose, why I was taken out of my parentsâ care and instead raised here to do what was expected of me.â You admitted and felt your heart pit as Aemond avoided your gaze. âBut Iâd rather have married you than be queen.â You quickly added.Â
âI may have wanted the title, Aemond⌠but I want you more. I am perfectly content with just being your wife,â You reassured, but something in Aemond burned in anger. Anger at the gods as to why he was born the second sonâ anger at himself as to why he had to seek out Aegon instead of just letting him escape. You sighed as you rested your forehead against Aemondâs, âDo you believe me?â You questioned and waited for his reply. Aemond bit his tongue not completely believing that you were perfectly content with your station because even he was not contented. He knew envy was a lesser emotion that he must not succumb to, but it was inevitable, especially as he bore witness to how his brother squandered off the most coveted station in the kingdom. He gave a nod and connected your lips, deciding to lay the matter to rest for the moment.Â
You sighed and steadied yourself as he hoisted you on his lap, moans leaving your lips as you sank down on his cock. Aemondâs breathing labored as he felt your tight cunt around his length and as your nails left traces along his back. âOh⌠gods, Aemondââ You cried as you rocked your hips, the tip of his cock hitting the perfect spot that made your back arch and your eyes rolled back in utter pleasure. Your moans filled his ears, and Aemond could only hum with satisfaction. âYou sound like such a whore, little wife,â he muttered as he reached downwards to trace circles on your nubbin. You could only whine louder, too focused as you bounced on his cock and sought out your high. âSuch a vision you are⌠bouncing on my cock and moaning out my name with a tiara on your pretty head.âÂ
Aemondâs other hand harshly gripped your tit as he was overwhelmed by the feel of you. âSo perfect you are,â He praised, and you smirked at him through the haze of pleasure, your cunt clenching further as you had always loved when he would compliment you. âSuch a perfect wifeâ you would have been wasted on my squandering brother.â He gritted and groaned as you clenched around him tightly and as you nodded your head in agreement. âI was meant to be yours, Aemond,â You breathed as you felt your skin alight with your nearing climax. âYouâre mine⌠all mine.â He groaned as you came undone, your loud moans spurring his own release. âAll yours,â You swore and watched as his face contorted in pleasure.Â
You sighed in contentment as you lay on Aemondâs chest and as he ran his hands through your hair. âI must leave,â He suddenly cut the silence. âI must meet with Cole,â You pursed your lips. âI know.â You said, trying not to let the tone of bitterness and concern be heard. Aemond furrowed his brows as he looked down upon you. You raised your gaze to meet his, âI know you, Aemond. I know you better than I know the back of my handâ did you really think I would not figure out that you had plotted secretly with Ser Criston?â You questioned, and Aemond sighed, his heart warming further for you as you uttered such words.Â
You sat upright to gain a better view of your husband, Aemond already feeling cold, as you removed yourself from his chest. âBe cautious, my loveâ do not be so reliant on Vhagar. Swear that you will return to me unscathed.â You implored, and Aemond leaned forward to capture your lips. When your lips parted, whatever tenderness you had was hidden behind your serious and threatening expression, urging your husband to be cautious and vigilant. âYou will not make me a widow at only nine and ten, Aemond.â You said, voice overly serious and gaze scorching, but your husband still had the gall to laugh. âI wouldnât dare to, my heart.â He said and captured your lips once more to seal his oath that he would return to you unharmed.Â
The whispers of vipers were deafening. âThe king was slain,â they would say. And murmurs had spread that the fall of the king was not caused by the Queen Who Never Was but rather by the One-Eyed Prince. You had stewed in silence as you could not possibly fathom what had happened. The only thing that had kept you sane was a single letter that came from your husband stating that he was well and would fly back and return to you in a day or two.Â
You stood in the gardens alone as you pondered upon the whispers spreading around the keep when you felt strong hands wrap around your frame and lips pressing kisses upon your neck. Your tense frame momentarily turned lax at the touch of your husband. âI have missed you, my heart,â He said softly and tried to capture your lipsâ for him, a week was far too long not to be in your presence. Suspicion rose in you as you heard elation in his voiceâ elation that was rarely present in him. You turned and saw satisfaction glinting in Aemondâs eye. âWhat has happened?â You questioned, a sickening feeling in your stomach as your intuition told you that there was something afoot.Â
Aemond frowned at the seriousness on your face. âWe had won the battleâ we had effectively cut off Dragonstone by land, my plan proven effective.â He said, dipping down to try and capture your lips, but you backed away, your movements sending a tinge to Aemondâs heart. âWhat has happened to Aegon?â You whispered and saw how quickly the satisfaction in your husbandâs eye disappeared. âThe king was inexperienced in battleâ he fought against the qualms of his council, and now he reaps the consequences.â You shook your head as you studied each expression of your husband. âWho had caused his injuries? They are whispering that it was not made by Rhaenys but rather by his own brother⌠tell me the truth of it, Aemond.âÂ
Your husband sighed, stirring you to the side, away from prying eyes and ears. âIt was an unfortunate incident⌠but it was a necessary one. The end justifies the means, my heart. You must know this.â He whispered, hoping to see understanding in your eyes, but he could only see horror. Your mind spun at the words your husband said; you felt bile rising to your throat because, within a blink of an eye, you scarcely recognized the man before youâ the man you had spent your whole life with, unrecognisable. Aemond felt his heart sink as you shook your head and removed his hold on you, hastily running away from him. Â
He knew what he had done was cruelâ treasonous, but it was for the greater good. He could not watch idly as his brother commanded the throne even though he was unfit to rule. He could not stand to watch as Aegon squandered away his birthright and made their causeâs claim weak. It was a last resort that he had to succumb toâ a last resort to save their faction and to prove himself worthy of you. Your words haunted him; the way you admitted that a part of you wished to be queen and the image of you wearing a tiara of rubies burned into his mind. He had to make it a reality. He needed to be king and have you by his side as his queen. Â
You avoided your husband the following days, unable to comprehend what he had somehow become. You had always known he had great ambitionsâyou would lie if you said that you had not encouraged his, for you as well had your ownâbut you never meant for it to come to this. You never thought of the possibility that Aemond would kill for the throne. For revenge, yes, but certainly not for his own brotherâs station.Â
It was the day of Ser Cristonâs return when you finally revealed yourself to Aemond. Standing by his side along with his mother as you three peered down on the few soldiers returning from battle, along with a cart that housed the fallen king who was clinging to life. You stared head-on as you felt the questioning and almost spiteful stare of the Queen Mother towards your husband. Not an ounce of remorse was shown by Aemond as he proudly wore the Valyrian steel dagger.Â
The queen walked off, ready to meet her firstborn son, and you moved to follow, but your husband took hold of your upper arm and forced you to look upon him. âHow long will you ignore me, little wife?â He hummed, growing impatient with each day of your ignorance of him. You stayed quiet, unable to meet his gaze. It was torture for you as wellâ you had missed your husband greatly, but the guilt you felt by his actions, which you knew were partly because of you, was greater. You long tried to hide your disappointment as you were not made queen; you thought it cruel that they had taken you away from the arms of your mother moments after your birth just to be raised in the keep and groomed to be the perfect and dotting wife of a king and take it all away with just one notion.Â
All those years of effort and sacrifices were wasted. But you did not dwell on it further as they presented Aemond to be your husband instead. You knew he believed you and your family see him as a consolation prizeâ and for your house, he was, but for you, you would gladly trade away all the gold in your houseâs coffers and the crown for Aemond. You had loved him ever since you two were children; you were intended for Aegon, but your heart had always longed for his younger brother. It was a shame that he could not see it until now.Â
It was flattering that he tried to prove himself to youâ that he says he does not deserve you, but you could never agree to such sentiments because you knew in yourself that you were meant to be his. It pains you that whatever you say, whatever you do to reassure him that you are happy and content in his arms, even without the prestige of titles, he still does not believe you.Â
Aemond felt his heart twist further as you shook your head and walked off. He followed you quietly as you two ventured to the chambers of the king to bear witness to the price of ambition. You could not will yourself to walk in; the distant sight of Aegon filled with burns, clinging to life, along with his death rattle breathing, was enough for you to flee away. Aemond watched as you stumbled through the halls, unable to bear the sight of what he had done. It was only then did Aemond felt guilt. Not guilt for what he had done to his brother but guilt as he saw your reactionâ it was only then did he realized that the weight of his actions would affect his lady-wife as well.Â
It was sundown when your uncle sought you out. Telling you what had transpired in the small council and how Aemond was named Prince Regent. He as well questioned you as to what you knew about the battle in Rookâs Rest and if your husband had confided in you any secrets, as all who had returned from the battlefield kept a tight lip. You said not a word. Your loyalty to your husband has proven to be greater than your guilt for Aegonâs state.Â
âGreatly unfortunate as the events were⌠I must say that the council and I are relieved that your husband shall see to the concerns of the Realm.â Your uncle muttered, and you sat stiffly in your seat. âReally?â You asked in a small voice. âKing Aegon might be the firstborn, but all are aware that Aemond has the tact to rule. Let us pray that he would lead our side to victoryâ his brother certainly cannot.â He sighed as he stood, kissing your cheek as he exited your private chambers, leaving you to ponder on his words.Â
A storm came at night, and you could not find rest as your husband was not by your side. The rain and thunder always made you uneasy, and at times like these, you greatly relied on Aemond for comfort. You walked the path to your marital chambers and peeked inside, only to see your husband was absent. You walked along the cold halls of the keep, searching for Aemond in his usual spots, but to no avail. Your feet carried you to the great hall, and there you found him, staring upon the iron throne. You bit your lip as you studied him, staring at the prize of his efforts.Â
Aemond felt a presence join him, and he turned his gaze and was met with you. âWas it worth the price?â You questioned, a steely look on his face as he thought over your words. You stood still as your husband took slow strides towards you. âIf it proves me worthy of you, then it does.â You let out a breath as he said the words. âAemond⌠how many times must I repeat myselfâ you do not need to prove yourself to me. Iâ I love you unconditionally. I do not need the throne or a crown⌠can you still not see that all I want is you?âÂ
Aemond cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his touch. âWhatâs done is done. We need not dwell on this matter, my heart. What is important is that we got what we wantedâ we finally have what we deserve.â He whispered, lips flying towards yours. You felt weak as your lips entangled with your husbandâs. âThis⌠this is not right.â You whispered as his kisses trailed down to your neck and to the valley of your breasts, his fingers slipping off the shift you wore, leaving you standing bare in the middle of the throne room. âWhat is not right is that our efforts and potential are wasted as those who are unfit for the title, rule. We were made for the throne, my heart⌠stop resisting it; you know it is the truth.âÂ
You breathed heavily as you watched your husband fall to his knees, and his lips kissed your cunny. âAdmit what you want, my heart.â His voice muffled against your skin, your hands moving to grip his hair and steady yourself as his tongue drew circles upon your cunt. You feel him grip your thighs, urging you to speak. âYou⌠I want you.â You cried, desperately writhing your cunt against his face. âAnd?â He questioned, and you tilted your head back, your climax quick to come as your body ached for your husbandâs touch. âTo be queen⌠I want you and be queen,â You admitted with a gasp as you felt his tongue enter your dripping core. Aemond smirked against your cunt; his body fueled with need as he tasted your essence. When you came undone, he greedily licked and lapped any remnants of your release, not at all conscious that you two may be caught in such compromising situations.Â
You watched through the haze of your release as your husband stood and undid his trousers. Your gaze followed him as he stood behind you and slipped in his length; your loud, surprised moan echoed through the empty hall and was accompanied by the clap of thunder. You cried as Aemond mercilessly pounded into your cunt, your dazed gazes planted on the throne. You gasped for air as Aemond wrapped his calloused hand around your throat and urged you to rest your weight on his leather-covered chest; all the while, his thrusts were relentless. âAre you to come? Are you to come before the throne, my wife?â He taunted in your ear, biting the lobe, and you could only cry in pleasure, your body arching and your hips meeting each of his thrusts. âYes⌠yes!â You cried as his other hand returned to its usual torment and drew circles upon your cunt.Â
You threw your head back upon Aemondâs shoulders as you were met with your second release. With a few more thrusts, you feel him come undone, his seed filling your cunt, and he could only hope that it would finally take, for he surely needed heirs. Aemond turned your head to face his and kissed your lips, finally feeling a speck of calm in his raging being, for he knew he had secured the station that you both deserved.Â
As you two tried to relish in the calm brought by your climaxes, outside the great hall, the castle was in an uproar as the king drew in his last breath. Men searching for the prince regent to inform him of the dire news. They scoured every corner of the castle and soon found their new king seated on the iron throne with his queen bouncing on his cock, Aemond fucking her in their rightful place.
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What would happen if gojo has 2 babies? And they both start crying at the same time and poor gojo has to find a solution in this situation 𼲠his younger baby that is only months old starts crying which makes the older sibling that's 2 years older wake up and starts crying đ
little voice â gojo satoru x f!reader
youâre on a girlsâ vacation. itâs okay. itâs cool.
but it isnât.
throughout his entire life of fighting curses, emotional trauma, technique training, and unending migraines, he has never felt so much stress like he does right now.
his two kids are truly angels: full of kindness, compassion andâas expected of a child of gojo satoruâfull of mischief.
they also share the same amount of love he has for you and, of course, even more. so separate two kids who adore their mother and you get chaos.
satoru just found out that the one who keeps the balance in the house is you, and thinking back about it, it shouldâve been obvious because everyone in this house listens to you.
for example, one time when you were out on a simple visit to nanami to take some of the sweet bread he has, you had strictly told satoru to put the two kids to sleep at 8:30 exactly.
he thought itâs too early, but then you explained to him that s/n sleeping gave him time and freedom to look after your baby daughter who was, admittedly, a handful that would not sleep unless she was carried.
so satoru obediently listened, or at least he tried to.
a shameful failed trial at that.
in his defense, what was he supposed to do when s/n gave him puppy eyes asked for a mere 10 minutes more, say no? of course not!
so, like the great father he is, he gave him a couple more minutes, and nothing will make satoru regret his decision since to him his sonâs smile is worth the world.
âŚexcept maybe the chandelier that is now on the floor and his precious baby daughter who just took one the biggest poops he has known of and his son who is panicking about how to clean this mess before you come home.
and come home you did and to all this mess.
swiftly, you picked up your daughter and changed her diaper, even making her giggle and squeal in between.
then you hugged your son and cleaned up the shattered glass together and disposed of the chandelier. lastly, you stood in front of your husband with a big frown after youâve put the kids to sleep.
satoru could swear that he couldnât fall more in love with you. hell, he could even twirl you around and kiss you breathless, but he feels like that would just lead him to the couch.
so he works to butter you up first before trying anything, âhey my sweet cute honeypieââ
you simply quirk an eyebrow.
and he falls to his knees, âI am sorry! I just couldnât resist his puppy eyes! you shouldâve seen them; he looked so cute!â
âI saw them a million times before he was even born, âtoru.â
your husband gasps, âhow!?â
âour son is an exact copy of you, sweetie.â
so yeah that was one of too many times, and if it isnât apparent that you are the mediator then satoru wants to let the world know that even his students listen to you.
like that one time at school when the first years were caught up fighting with each other, the second years were trying to pull them apart, and satoru was too busy cackling at them while holding d/n that no one noticed pandaâs little tail beingâgod knows whyâon fire, not even panda himself.
that was until your precious son tugged at your husbandâs shirt and pointed at panda, saying a simple sentence (phrase), âpapa, panda fire.â
satoruâs eyes zero on panda then they widen, before he gapes, âoh shit, youâre right!â
âbad word!â
âsorry!â
however, despite satoru almost bolting to put out the fire, panda was finally able to smell it and hummed, âsomethingâs being cooked.â then he looked at his tail, âoh itâs me.â
hit the panic button.
âI am being cooked!â he screams and starts running around, âpanda meat doesnât taste good; I promise!â
the rest start running after him with the intention to help, but panda could only translate it into one thing as he screamed, âdonât eat me!!â
âno one is gonna eat you, dumbass!!â maki yelled but to no avail as no one could get to the panicked panda.
your husband is running as well, half taking photos and videos and half ensuring that d/n does not fall from his handsâconsidering how she keeps giggling, squealing, and wriggling her entire body.
ijichi took matters into his own hands and called the only person he knows will be able to solve this.
âhello?â
âpanda is on fire, the kids are running after him, and gojo is just recording!â he wails, eyes frantically following said people then straying to a particularly small person, âalso s/n is trying to eat the grass.â
âwhat?!â
and like lightning, youâre on the field. you lightly scold s/n and tell him to cover his ears.
you turn to the walking fire hazard and scream, âeveryone stop! and panda get over here!â
âyes maâam!â
he stands still in front of you, almost ignoring his âfieryâ tail. you effectively put it out and ruffle his fur until he calms down. the others take turns in greeting you and getting their daily dose of motherly hugs.
your son sprints to you and holds onto your leg, refusing to let go.
and they all make way for the star of the show: the all-mighty gojo satoru.
he beams, âwifey, yet again you save the day!â
he easily picks up s/n and pulls the four of you into one big hug. he rubs his cheek against yours, âhave I told you how much I love you?â
âI was gone for 3 minutes.â
âI havenât?!â he gasps, completely ignoring you, âI am a terrible husband!â
he sobs and starts slowly melting to the ground where he believes a âdisrespectful, good-for-nothing husband who doesnât tell his wife just how much he loves herâ.
anyway, back to the present. the kids have been miraculously put to sleepâa process that satoru does not have the time nor the energy to describe.
when he stops âreminiscing â, he starts paling at the fact that all of these were mere examples of things going wrong without you, and you were in the freaking area.
now, youâre not 10 steps away, and satoru is feeling very threatened.
he is sprawled out on the couch, eye bags ever so prominent. he sighs and lets his head fall back, grateful for the silence that fills the house, but he hates it at the same time.
satoru was never fond of silenceâthe type that feels so heavy on the heartâeven when he was a teenager. it gives space and time to think about all the things he is desperate to avoid.
he did eventually come to love silence but only the silence that accompanies the times he spends with you, but thatâs a story for another time though.
opening his eyes, he looks around and his gaze lands on your recent family photo. his smile is almost instantaneous.
if thereâs anything he will rub in suguruâs face when they meet is that he managed to score himself such a lovely wife and an adoring family, a real family. he mentally writes a plus one on the score chart between him and suguru then relaxes.
he would like to scurry to the bed where your scent still lingers, but his fatigue has simply chained him to the couchâhe is overreacting youâre only gone for three days.
so, he decides, itâs time to rest and hope for a dream where he gets to hold you and live with his longing until he can feel your lips against his skin again.
the great gojo satoru closes his eyes and welcomes his slumber.
that is until, his little sweetheart decides to breakout into a wail, effectively causing her dadâs eyes to snap open.
he jumps to his feet and sprints to her room, âd/n, whatâs wrong, honey?â
he softly cradles her in hisâgiganticâarms and starts rocking her slowly. âitâs okay; papaâs here,â he murmurs in hopes of calming down, but his daughter doesnât register his voice yet.
she can, however, feel his all too familiar chest against her cheek, so she grips at it tightly and continues crying.
satoruâs expression is full of distress, and his heart contracts painfully at how his daughterâs cries. then itâs almost like the entire world is against him right now because he also starts to hear small little sniffles from the door of the room.
your husband looks back to find his son dragging his teddy bear with him in one hand and in another, trying to wipe his tears as much as possible.
your husband quickly shifts d/n into one arm and leads s/n into him with the other. your son nuzzles into his dadâs chest and murmurs, âI want mama.â
almost like she understands the mention of you, she calms down a tiny bit and her hands start reaching for the airâreaching for you.
satoru slides down to the ground and pulls them both into his chest, and he starts rubbing s/nâs shoulder and kisses the top of his head and sighs, âme too, s/n, but, hey, we are strong and capable, so we have to hold on until she comes home, right?â
a little sniffle escapes s/n as he nods before saying a soft, âyeah.â
satoru smiles and ruffles his hair, âthatâs my champ.â
s/n lets out a little smile and snuggles into his dadâs embrace.
so satoru shifts his attention to the sniffling baby in his arm, he frowns, ânow what are we going to do with you, little missy?â
your son purses his lips for a moment, before placing the teddy bear in his hands into his little sisterâs tiny arms. curiosity takes over for a moment, and she starts exploring the new item.
then s/n presses on the teddy bearâs chest and it plays a little voice message from you:
âhey sweetie! mama loves you, so donât worry about those nightmares! I am always here.â
your daughterâs eyes shine and she hugs the teddy as much as possible and utters a small, âma!â
satoru blinks owlishly then looks at s/n with smile, âso you had that all along?â
s/n nods slowly and holds into his father tighter, obviously getting tired and getting ready to sleep. satoru would love to say the same about his other angel butâoh she fell asleep.
looks like all it took was a little listen to your voice.
he will probably make you record a thousand voice messages when you come back and make you get him his own special build-a-bear as well cause what the hell? what about your husband?
he shakes the thought away, realizing that he can finally fall asleep, albeit on the floor.
with no blanket.
no pillow.
not even his favorite cushion.
but he wasnât raised to be ungrateful, so he will take what he can get. he will simply make up for lost sleep when youâre back. it will feel better that way in any case.
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Construction worker!Ghost x Teacher!Reader? They're married and every time Ghost comes home he's instantly pussy drunk at the sight of the reader and hurries up finish eating so he can get to 'dessert' and makes sure his lovely wife gets absolutely cock drunk to remember forever like he always does?
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley" x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Oral Sex
Unedited
His back aches.
A common occurrence after lugging around bags of concrete and bricks. There is an uncomfortable knot that always flares between his shoulder blades, and Simon sniffs in discomfort as he shifts his hard hat between his arm and side. He's long decided that if a warm shower doesn't help his muscles let up, he'll ask you for a massage. Maybe he'll even ask for you to use the really expensive, nice smelling lotion you bought as a treat to yourself.
His keys knock together as he opens the front door, the scent of you and homemade food instantly flooding his senses. The house is pleasantly cool, drying the sweat that still clings to his skin from the long day in the summer sun. He can hear whatever you're watching from the entrance as he hangs up his work vest and hat, turning to find you sitting in front of the coffee table. Colorful paper in different shapes is spread out in front of you, no doubt something for your students. You turn at the sound of him entering and you give him that breath-taking smile that still makes his stomach dip.
You get up from your spot, letting him get a clear view of the outfit you wore to work today. It's a pretty little summer dress with splashes of color and a skirt flowing just below your knees. Simon can feel saliva pooling on his tongue as you approach, his fingers twitching. You have to balance on the tips of your toes to reach his face, your hands grabbing his cheeks as your soft lips press against his chapped ones. You smell like glue and the summery perfume you wear to match the season. You pull away far too quickly for his liking, and his hands grab at your waist so you don't go too far.
"I've been waiting for you," You declare, hands planted flat on his paint-stained shirt. "Dinner is on the table."
Simon hums, his thumbs rubbing at your sides through the fabric. He lets you lead him to the table when your hands slide down to capture one of his, tugging him along behind you. He can't help the way his eyes follow the curve of your spine, dipping down to the soft swell of your ass. He licks his lips as he sits down at the table, hungry for something more than a home-cooked meal.
You just look so tempting as you sit across from him, giving him that cute smile before you begin eating. You don't even act surprised when Simon starts devouring his plate, already used to his unending appetite. You're barely halfway done with your food when Simon cleans his plate.
"Do you want seconds?" You ask him, looking up at him.
Your stomach drops when you meet his heated eyes. Something in you stirs, and you have to look away for a moment to avoid being sucked into his hypnotic stare.
"In the mood for dessert," Simon grumbles, leaning back in his chair. You gulp, the meaning of his words hitting you straight in your chest. Still, you decide to play coy.
"We have some cookie dough I can pop into the oven real quick?" You offer, pushing yourself away from the table. "Or I can get us some ice cream if you want something cold."
Simon says nothing as you begin to gather the plates, but he pushes away from the table and follows you inside the kitchen. You can feel the heat of his body searing your back as you place the dishes in the sink, hesitantly turning your head to face him. He towers over you effortlessly, and you gasp when his large hands grab at your hips and turn your body to face him.
He lifts you onto the counter top without a single sign of struggle, the back of your dress becoming wet from small spots of water. Even now you have to turn your head up to look him in the eye, and your mouth slightly gapes as he leans in.
"Craving something else." He finally responds, hands grabbing at your skirt and yanking it up to your waist. You gasp, watching as Simon bends down to inspect his next course.
Your panties already have a darkened patch of arousal, and you make a noise of embarrassment when he presses his nose to it and inhales the sweetly tangy scent of your slick. He pushes further, letting his tongue lap at the spot and groaning as if he could taste the full extent of your drooling cunt. Your hands fly to his hair, the short strands filling your palms as you moan out.
You can feel the bastard smiling against you, his warm breath driving you crazy. One of his hands slips away from your skirt, the fabric draping over your thigh and bunching on the counter as he uses it to move your panties aside. The cool air against your core makes you gasp, but it's quickly replaced with the hot suction of his mouth. His mouth is scolding as he suckles at the tiny bud between your folds, wasting no time in taking his desired fill of you.
He alternates between long sucks and rapid licks, toying with the bundle of nerves before moving to your dripping slit. The tip of his tongue prods at it, not quite penetrating the leaking hole. Simon groans softly against you when you throw your feet over his shoulders, your heel digging into a sore spot in his back. But the pain just heightens his senses, pushing him to finally tongue fuck you.
A string of moans and whines escape your lips, hands tugging at Simon's hair as waves of pleasure fill your stomach. You try to call out his name, attempting to tell him how amazing it feels- how quickly your high is approaching- but it gets lost in the mind numbing pleasure that fogs your brain. You're left shaking when the build up explodes, your body slumping and your hands trying to push Simon's face away. He grunts, fighting you as he laps up the last of your release, savoring the taste as it coats his mouth. He pulls away with one last, harsh suck to your clit, chuckling when you whimper from the sensitivity.
He lets you catch your breath as he stands up, fixing your panties and skirt. Your body is lax and sluggish, and you don't protest when Simon begins to carry you out of the kitchen and to the bathroom. He whispers soft praises into your ear, telling you how well you took his feasting and how pretty you looked while doing it. You smile happily to yourself, tightening your arms around him as best as you can in your sedated state. As Simon carries you, he realizes that the annoying knot in his back has disappeared.
Maybe all he needed was a good taste of his wife's pussy to heal him.
#cherry's requestsđ#simon riley cod#simon x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost mw2#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost x you#simon ghost smut#ghost riley#cod simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#lieutenant simon riley#simon riley smut#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod x you#cod x y/n#cod ghost#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x female oc#call of duty ghost#simon ghost riley fanfiction
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Nightmare Wedding
DESCRIPTION: They have a nightmare that you marry someone else
WARNINGS: slight angst and some insecurities but with comfort and happy endings in all
CHARACTERS: Ace, Shanks, Mihawk, Kid, Katakuri | Law, Zoro
WORDS: 3,014
A/N: I loved this idea and couldn't help but do another. Of course as soon as I posted the last one an idea for Ace finally came to me. Added Ace and Kid for @breadlover6969 and Mihawk, Shanks, and Katakuri (who also won the poll) for @kabloswrld
Hope you all enjoy!
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
âââââââ
ACE
Ever since you and Ace became a couple, Ace noticed that he slept amazing when you were beside him. The nights you had to sleep apart however, brought restlessness, sometimes strange dreams that left him feeling as though he hadnât slept at all, but it was worse when he had to suffer through nightmares. Tonight, he reluctantly went to bed while you had to stay in the infirmary while you recovered from a sickness. It was just a precaution to avoid you infecting the others but Ace needed more convincing than the others. He didnât care if he got sick and would have risked it but you managed to talk him around, promising it would be just one night and it would make you feel better to know he was safe and healthy. Reluctantly he climbed into the bed and pouted at your empty side until his eyes grew heavy and sleep claimed him.Â
âAce how do I look?â You asked him in his dream and he broke out into an overwhelmed smile, taking in your breathtaking appearance. You were all but glowing, dressed for a wedding; your wedding. Slowly he reached out to cup your face before taking your hand to playfully twirl you and take in your outfit with growing appreciation. Unable to hold back, he pulled you into a tight hug. âYou look amazing, you always do.â He whispered, pulling back to see your eyes light with joy as you you looked down at your outfit, smoothing the fabric into place.Â
âIâm glad. I hope Marco thinks so too.â You beamed up at him, unaware of Aceâs expression dropping into one of confused dread. Marco? What did Marco have to do with it all? He quickly snapped out of his thoughts when you quickly took his hands into yours and leaned in with an excited smile. âAce, will you walk me down the aisle? Itâd mean so much to me!â
âB-butâŚarenât you going to marry me?â Ace asked with a frown, his heart sinking when you tilted your head in confusion before laughing.Â
âAce, donât be silly!â You grinned, giving him a playful shove. âYou know Iâm marrying Marco, come on I canât be late!â Before he could react, you grabbed his wrist and hurried down a corridor that seemed unending. Finally the corridor shifted to reveal a filled room, your hand was no longer in his and you stood with Marco at the altar.Â
His stomach lurched and Ace let out a yelp as he landed on the floor of his room, tangled in the bedsheet and head swimming as he tried to let his brain catch up with the fact he was awake and what heâd just witnessed was a horrible dream. Scrambling to his feet, Ace bolted out of the room and hurried to the infirmary, hearing the sound of you coughing when he neared the door. Quietly he entered and walked quietly to your bedside. âAce? You should be in bed.â You told him weakly.Â
âNo, I should never have let you talk me into leaving you.â Ace said as he climbed into the bed with you, pulling you close to let you rest against him. His fingers lightly moved over your back, soothing your aching body while also finding your presence soothing him from the nightmare heâd had. âWeâre a team right? Through thick and thinâŚsickness and in health.â
âArenât those wedding vows?â
âAre they?â Ace asked innocently but you could hear his heart pick up speed slightly. âMust have been a coincidenceâŚâ
SHANKS
Before meeting you, Shanks never saw himself as the settling down type. He was more than content to live his days exploring and enjoying himself with a lover in every island should the mood take him. Then you came along and changed his life in every wonderful way imaginable. You were the adventure heâd been missing and hadnât even known he was searching for. He couldnât imagine ever being apart from you. You might have fallen for his charm and flirtatious smile first but he fell for your warmth and beautiful soul so much harder.Â
So when he dreamt of himself standing at the front of an altar, he knew you would be the only other possible person his subconscious would conjure to join him. Shanks felt excitement gather in his chest and then in a blink he saw Beckman appear beside him. âThis is a big thing, Captain. You sure you can go through with this?â His right-hand man asked with a grin before continuing. âI mean youâve never preformed a wedding ceremony before, will you be able to handle it?â
Shanks felt his excitement fizzle out and it was quickly replaced with confusion and apprehension. Yes, as Captain he would be the one to marry members of his crew but he couldnât possibly be the one to get married and preform the ceremony at the same time. It didnât make sense and as much as he wanted to know, he dreaded what the explanation would be because he already knew it wasnât going to be something heâd like. âBenn! Shanks!âÂ
Both heads turned and Shanksâ chest felt like it was going to explode with adoration and pride as he saw you hurry to them. He waited for your hands to reach for him but instead you merely smiled at him and hurried to Beckmanâs side, eagerly letting his arms wrap around you and hold you close. âSorry Iâm late but we can start now.â You beamed, your gaze settling on Shanksâ face expectantly. âWhenever youâre ready Captain, I canât wait to marry this man!â
With a jolt and gasp, Shanks woke to the calm, dark silence using the sound of the gentle waves hitting the side of the Red Force to help calm his breathing. He glanced to down to see you curled up on your side, your back against him and your arms loosely but just as possessively wrapped around his arm. Shanks let out a small huff as he silently laughed at his stupid mind for conjuring such a ridiculous scenario. Rolling onto his side, Shanks pressed a kiss against your temple, stilling when you began to shift. You turned as you began to wake, curling into his chest and let out a sleepy smile when his now freed arm tightened around you, keeping you close. âEverything okay?â You mumbled.Â
âNever better.â Shanks affirmed with a smile, pressing another kiss against your cheek. As much as he knew it was a ridiculous dream and that things between you both were beyond amazing, Shanks considered that maybe he was worried in some part that someone may take you from him someday. âPromise me you wonât marry Beck, okay?â
âWhy, you wanna marry him?â Even half-asleep you were still able to make a joke and help your lover relax.Â
âThe only one I want to be committed to is you.â
âGood, because Iâm not going anywhere.âÂ
âPromise?â
âI do.â
MIHAWK
âClown, what is the meaning for all of thisâŚfanfare?â Mihawk asked, looking around the extensibly decorated circus tent. Brightly coloured ribbons adorned the ceiling, flowers were displayed in grand, flashy, and quite simply ostentatious arrangements that just screamed âBuggy the Clown.â None of it was to Mihawkâs taste but it was clear the clown was up to something. The figurehead of Cross Guild spun around, dressing in a bright suit and his painted smile, spread wide in triumph.Â
âMihawk! So glad youâve arrived. We were worried you were going to miss the festivities. Theyâll be writing about this in the papers for weeks.â Buggy declared with a laugh, allowing his hands to detach from his arms to gesture widely as confetti seemed to rain down from nowhere. Mihawkâs eye twitched at the useless theatrics, heâd asked a question and wanted an actual answer. Thankfully he didnât need to repeat himself because Buggy cleared his throat and stepped to the side to show the altar Mihawk could have sworn wasnât there before. âItâs my wedding obviously.â
A wedding? This was the first Mihawk heard about it. As far as he knew, Buggy hadnât had a serious relationship in a long time, certainly not serious enough to warrant a wedding. So who was the clownâs secret betrothed? The answer came instantly when he heard footsteps behind him. Mihawk turned and did a double take when he saw it was you. The look in your eyes was filled with so much excitement and joy they practically sparkled. He began to reach out for you but you slipped past him and continued with conviction until you were proudly beside Buggy. Disbelief gripped Mihawk at the scene in front of him. No, this was impossible. Letting his instincts take hold, he reached for Yoru and charged for Buggy.Â
âMihawk, no!â You pleaded, stepping in front and stopping his attack mid-swing with just your voice. âPlease itâs my wedding day. Promise thereâll be no fighting. For me okay?â Mihawk snapped awake immediately and let out a sigh of relief to see he was in his own quarters and not a garish decoration in sight. Despite having slept, the nightmare he was forced to endure had left him exhausted. Part of him was reluctant to try and fall back to sleep out of worry of what other hellish thoughts his mind would conjure for him.Â
With a sigh he reached out your side of the bed and only now he noticed it was empty. Yet it was still warm, youâd only just risen but it was still late at night. Just as he was about to rise and search for you, the door opened and you silently crept in, pausing to see Mihawk was awake and watching you. Now seeing you had no need to be stealthy you smiled and walked back towards the bed. âI was getting a drink of water. Did I wake you?â
âNo, love.â Mihawk answered, holding out his arms to pull you close against him, his eyes closing when your fingers slipped into his hair. âHad an awful dream you married the clown and wouldnât let me cut him to pieces for it.âÂ
âHow strangeâŚâ You mused with a yawn. âAlthough Iâm not opposed to the idea, truth be told.â
âMarrying the clown?â Mihawk leaned back to look at you, unable to hide his disgust as the images from his dream came flooding back.Â
âNo!â You laughed pressing a kiss against his cheek. âMarrying you. Although people consider us married anyway.â Mihawk chuckled, it was true. Mihawk supposed now that it had been properly brought up, it was worth considering to finally propose. His golden eyes observed you carefully and saw your eyes were growing heavy. That was a conversation best saved for the morning.Â
KID
âYouâve got to be fucking kidding me!â Kid shouted as he looked at you standing hand in hand with none other than Strawhat Luffy, both of you dressed very clearly for a wedding. At his outburst you both turned to look at him in shared confusion. âHim? Youâre seriously going to marry him! Heâs a moron!â
âOnly sometimes.â You shrugged before smiling dreamily at the Strawhat pirate. âHeâs also super strong, and funny, and heâs King of the Pirates now so-â
âWhat? No heâs not!â Kid argued angrily trying to charge forward but every step he took kept him firmly on the same spot. This wasnât real, this couldnât be happening. You were with him! You had no interest in the pipsqueak Captain of the Strawhats like that. You werenât as shallow to only be with something because of their title, you werenât like that. You saw the good in people, youâd seen the good in him and you loved him. Of that much Kid was certain of. This just had to be some awful dream. He just needed to wake up and everything would be okay.Â
âKid!â Kid jolted upright with a yell meeting your bewildered gaze. âWhat is it? You were calling my name over and over. Are you okay?â You hesitated from touching him as out of fear he was still clinging to the nightmare he was waking from, not wanting to overwhelm him but you had to speak to him, to reassure him your were here. You watched as Kid steadied his breathing and reached out towards you with his good arm. Quickly you took his hand into both of yours and guided his fingers to rest against your collarbone so he could feel your steady heartbeat under your skin and feel the rise and fall of your chest, hoping he would copy the steadied breaths and calm. âIâm here, weâre safe in our room. What do you need?â
âKill Strawhat.â Kid ground out tightly as he calmed, his fingers flexing around yours just a little tighter to ground him in the reality. Finally he let out a long, heavy sigh and shook his head. âNah, heâs not worth my time. Just need you babe.â You let out a sigh of your own, soft and relieved to hear him speak and inched closer, smiling when his hand moved up to curl behind your neck and thread into your hair, pulling you in for a soft and gentle kiss. Parting he lay his forehead against yours, finding his ability to be vulnerable around you to be proof of the love you both shared.
âPromise me, even if that little runt becomes King of the Pirates and asks you to marry him, youâll say no.â
âKid, youâre the only one Iâve ever wanted.â You reassured him softly. âDonât care about titles or any of that stuff but if you want to give me a ring and let me call you husband if it makes you feel better we can do that?â
âDid you just half-ass a proposal to me?â Kid asked with a grin, all worries from his dream vanishing instantly.Â
âNot at all, Captain. Was just letting you know you can half-ass propose to me if you want.â With a laugh and a playful shove, Kid considered taking you up on the offer but now he had to wait for a while so that when he did propose, it would seem like it was all his idea.
KATAKURI
Another tea-party, another celebration filled with people and a feast of the finest food imaginable. Katakuri stood firmly in place, watching all of the guests and his family occupy the space, prepared for anything to happen. Like everything else, nothing would escape his sight and nothing would ruin his motherâs carefully planned party, he always made sure of that. Across the large garden he caught sight of the extravagant mountain-sized wedding cake and now he felt confused, he hadnât known this was a wedding. Curiously he looked around, searching for his siblings to spot who would be the bride or groom. But then that thought went out of his head when he saw you of all people standing at the altar at the top of the cake.Â
His heart all but skipped when he saw you but that led him to become even more confused. If you were up there and waiting to get married, why was he all the way down here and standing watch? He was madly in love with you and you loved him, so why were you both apart? Then you turned to face someone who was on top of the cake with you. Katakuri watched in dismay to see his brother Perospero take your hand in his and grin at you. Behind his thick layers of his scarf wound around the lower half of his face, Katakuriâs lips curled in a tight snarl and he gripped his arms tightly to control the mounting anger. Why was this happening?
From behind him he heard his motherâs loud laughter, delighted by the ceremony taking place on the cake she couldnât wait to devour. Katakuri lowered his gaze and took a deep breath, of course. Big Mom did enjoy arranging marriages for her children and this was clearly one of her arrangements but he couldnât help but feel the pain of how youâd been taken from him and he couldnât do anything to intervene. Worse still, you didnât even look like you wanted him to be in Prosperous place.Â
Katakuri woke instantly, his eyes snapping open and his mind clearing just as fast. As though sensing the change in his body, you stirred from your comfortable place on his chest. As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and yawned, Katakuriâs hand fell over your back, making sure to keep you comfortable knowing that your mind was still hazy and body was still heavy as it clung to the need for sleep. If he reassured you all was well quickly, youâd fall back into your own pleasant dreams in no time. âKataâŚwhatâs the matter?â You mumbled, managing to crack your eyes open slightly to look at him.Â
âJust a bad dream. Iâm fine now.â Katakuri informed you simply, never needing to lie to you.Â
âHm, what kind of dream?â You asked, absently running your fingers over his chest as you listened to his steady heartbeat that always lulled you to sleep.
âDreamt mother had arranged for you to marry Perospero.â He explained, rubbing your back in response to your soothing touches. âI could only stand by and watch.â
âSorry you had to dream such a thing but donât worry that wonât happen.â
âIf mother demanded it, I couldnât fight against her wishes.â Katakuri mumbled, feeling his own mind grow hazy once more as your radiating warmth was coaxing him to sleep. He blinked when you abruptly pushed yourself up to frown at him in the dark. âWhat?â
âKatakuriâŚweâre already married.â You reminded him, lifting your hand to show the band of metal on your finger glinting in the moonlight. With a tired, amused huff at your husbands momentary lapse in memory you flopped back down onto your husbandâs chest.Â
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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa
#one piece#one piece imagines#one piece x reader#one piece x you#one piece fanfiction#one piece scenario#one piece fic#ace x reader#ace x you#shanks x you#shanks x reader#mihawk x you#mihawk x reader#kid x you#kid x reader#katakuri x reader#katakuri x you#portgas d ace x reader#ace one piece#portgas ace x you#portgas d ace x you#portgas ace x reader#fire fist ace#portgas d ace#red haired shanks#shanks one piece#akagami no shanks#red hair shanks#red hair shanks x reader#dracule mihawk one piece
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Sensitive, leaky Bucky
Certified perv speaking. Bucky who is so sensitive, his cock is so leaky and he has 0 control over how much of a mess he makes each time he cums. The serum dials everything to 100. The first time he saw you, he could feel spurts of precum dampening his boxers and he knew he was done for.
The first time he makes out with you, he runs off without a word after, making you wonder if you crossed a boundary but no. He canât look you in a face and tell you he came in his pants like a teenager when you hadnât even touched him. It took everything in him not to whine and whimper while feeling your soft lips on his, squeezing your waist a little tighter than usual when his cock started to throb painfully agains this jeans. As soon as your tongue is laced with his, he has to resist the urge to moan, his balls tightening, with cum pumping through his cock and wetting the front of his pants. His chest was heaving, body feeling hot, he couldnât even dignify himself with a short orgasm. He presses his hand to his throbbing cock in the elevator, biting back a moan, hitting his head back against the wall when it throbs again. It takes everything for him to not unzip his pants right then and there so he can pull his cock out and stroke every drop out.
Bucky whose cock is sooo wet and leaky, heâs embarrassed the first time you have him naked, legs spread apart, a clear, sticky mess decorating the head of his cock, dripping down into his tummy. He wished he had some semblance of control instead of constantly nearly ejaculating but he has no idea how much you love on him like this.
You love the way his cock jumps and twitches each time take off a piece of clothing. The second you place your hands on his bare skin, he moans, his cock swelling more, balls growing heavier.
âWhat is it baby boyâ you coo, kissing his inner thigh, his delicious natural scent and musk soaking your cunt.
âSen-sensitiveâ he looks at you with pleading eyes, his cock throbbing, torn between needing you to touch him and staying far away because he has no control around you. Heâs not a virgin but heâs never gotten head before either and heâs sure heâll fill your mouth within seconds.
âDo you want me to suck your cock Jamie?â A pearly white drop drips from the tip and you smirk at how gone he is.
âI-Iâll cumâ he whispers with pink cheeks, gasping when you take his heavy balls in your mouth, suckling and nursing. âDoll-please-I canâtâ
He needs to be inside you, man handling you till you find yourself on top of him, your chest pressing against his. He doesnât give you a second to think, pushing his cock in and planting his feet, thrusting up into you.
âB-bucky!!â you squeal at the feeling of his balls hitting your ass, his fat cock stretching you open wide. He clings onto you tight, panting and moaning, the feeling of your tight cunt too much within a few strokes.
âFuck, Mâgonna cum!!â his back arches off the bed, head thrown back against the pillow, âOH FUCK YESâ He canât stop thrusting, holding into your overstimulated form while he empties himself, his orgasm unending.
âJamieeâ you whine, your greedy cunt pulling him back in, his cum spilling everywhere because heâs still throbbing. âYouâre making a mess babyâ
His eyes roll back at the thought of the warm white cream thatâs covering your folds, all of his cum decorating your pussy and it just makes his cock throb more.
âI know-I know doll-Hngg-mph-fuck I canât stopâ his he whines, hiding his face into your neck, his arms nearly limp but his hips donât stop moving, still rutting up, obscene squelching sounds growing louder. âItâs-its the serum-fucked my cock up, so sensitive, so much cumâ
âYouâre cumming so much babyâ
âYeah, sâtoo much, câ mom please doll, feels so good, you make me so hard it hurtsâ he babbles, rolling over so heâs on top, keeping his cock warm, his load soaking the sheets. He rolls his hips slowly, grinding his greedy length in as far as it would go, cuddling his face into your neck again, âmâsorryâ
âItâs okay baby, itâs your pussyâ you coo and realize what a grave mistake that was because he groans, his cock swelling again, slamming back into you fucjing you with a new purpose.
âSâmine? Fuck, all mine baby?â His eyes are feral now and you feel every ripple and divot is muscle tensed as he fucks harder, âgonna make a mess in my pussy doll, gonna keep busting in my pussy till you have to change the sheets. Gonna empty my cock in my pussy all fuckinâ nightâ
And he does just that. It takes him minutes for him to finish each time, panting and grunting, feral over how good his orgasms feel and how long they last when heâs thrusting into you till your crying. His mouth gets filthier each time and thereâs no stopping it.
âIs your belly all full of cum baby? Did you drink UO every drop your Sargent gave you?â
âSuch a pretty milky pussy baby, lookit you, covered in so much cream, get ready for more doll, mânot doneâ
âBetter keep your night free doll, mâfuckin hard and I wanna empty my cock so badâ
His favourite and most unhinged things to do when heâs jealous and possessive is to have you naked on your knees while he jerks himself off, leaning agains t the wall, painting your face and body with ropes of his spend. His eyes squeeze shut as he fucks his fist, thrusting his hips forward when another wave of pleasure consumes him, nearly trembling and buckling over. He cums and cums till your face drips with cum, dribbling down your neck and nipples, and of course heâs going to get you to lie down so he can jerk himself onto your pussy, marking his territory and all you can do is take it while he soaks your-
Idk whatâs wrong with me
#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes smut#marvel smut#avengers smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x freader#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky barnes x f reader#bucky x smut#bucky x you#bucky x female yn#bucky x f reader#avenger smut#needy bucky#needy bucky smut#needy Bucky barnes#soft bucky#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes imagine
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Out of Context Stuff for a Danyal Al Ghul au i haven't posted - Pit Beast Danyal
Damian, 13: Look, Danyal, -- I am so sorry for everything that happened between us in the League, I hope you can forgive me.
Danny, 10 (allegedly): (has been secretly plotting to murder Damian this whole time, is still gonna do it obvs, but is going to make it significantly less painful now)
Danny: I-- of course, older brother. :]
--------
Bruce: what do you have there, Damian?
Damian:
Danny: (a hulking 10ft pit beast standing beside him, growling idly with ram horns gouging out his eyes and a second set of horns jutting into the air, spines down his back, and a long, spiked tail with an animalistic, skull-like face)
Damian, who smuggled him in (they've made amends): a smoothie, father
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Damian: this is my little brother Danyal, i murdered him when he was five. He festered in rage for the last half-a decade, took over a League mountain base in Switzerland, murdered everyone inside and then tried to murder me when I went to investigate with Drake.
Danny: hello!
Damian: we're cool now
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Damian: thoughts on resurrection
Danny, (a full ghost): i will succeed in murdering you if you try it
Damian: we'll put a pin in it then
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Danny (still instilled with League values): why don't we just murder him??
Damian, on patrol (Danny followed him): we don't murder people, Danyal
Danyal:,,,,are you sick, Dami?? Have you been possessed? Why not!?
(There is raucous laughing through the comms)
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Danny, five, pre-death: Dami! :D
Danny, dead, vengeful: Older brother (:
Danny, post-forgiveness: Dami! :]
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For some actual context: Danny is fully dead in this au, its a result of the classic DPxDC Demon Twins "death duel" trope but instead of Danny getting revived, he stays fully dead. Danny was five, Damian was seven. His ghost lingered though, and due to the proximity of the pits his ghost steadily absorbed the ambient energy it was letting off. The pits are not corrupted ectoplasm in this au, it's just liquid ecto.
Which means Danny's corruption from an angry and hurt little ghost boy to an unrecognizable monster is from his own doing. It's a result of him stewing in his hurt and anger for years, it physically warped him. He's very powerful. Danny can travel between League Bases but chose a small, out-of-the-way base in the Swiss mountains to fester in and then just. Never Left.
His influence steeped into the very foundations of the building, allowing him to transform and warp the rooms and hallways for his own bidding, Meaning he could turn it into a seemingly unending labyrinth if he so wished to, and block the entrance.
Eventually, blinded (both metaphorically and physically) by his own rage, Danny grew powerful enough to appear physically in the living realm and attacked everyone in the base, slaughtering them all and leaving the base abandoned. He attacks anyone who dares enter -- whether that be other league members, or the unfortunate hiker who stumbled across the base. His conscious is steeped into every nook and cranny of the building, there is nowhere you can hide where he can't find. Nobody leaves without his explicit say so. Nobody ever does.
Him appearing as ten years old before Damian in the skits above is his own physical doing. First it was to prevent Damian from being suspicious of him. Damian initially thought Danny was revived with the pits, he was too busy with his own training afterwards to notice that Danny never showed up again, and when he did notice, he assumed it was because Danny was too ashamed of his loss to face him. He'd always forget to ask about him.
Then it becomes a personal choice to appear as ten. It's how old he would've been had he been alive.
danny forgiving Damian is kinda for an offshoot branch of the main au. Whereas the main au takes the form of a ps4 first person horror game where Damian and Tim are investigating the Base for Plot Reasons. There's no sign of the rumored "monster" living inside until the end, where Danny, who was found inside the Base and has been happily "helping" them look around, manages to persuade Damian into splitting off from Tim in order to "show him something."
This something turns out to be Danny revealing that he never really forgave Damian for that fight, and he reveals through a horrifying transformation, that he was the monster the whole time. Which the game subtly hints at throughout as Danny's strange behavior becomes harder to ignore.
First from his insistence to only refer to Damian as "older brother" (when before the duel he always called him Damian or Dami), to him right off the bat denying the existence of a monster when questioned. ("There's no monster here, older brother. It's just me.") To other various things, like his knowledge of the outside world not matching up to modern times or things going on with the league outside of the base, or what happened to the other league members.
This whole idea was inspired by the song "Scylla" from Epic the Musical, with Danyal being the voice of Scylla as well as Odysseus, while Damian stands as Eurylochus. The instrumentals after Scylla says "hello" is him turning into the pit beast, and Scylla's "drown in your sorrow and fears" part is danny, as the pit beast, snarling at Damian while he attacks him.
There's a Good Ending, a Bad Ending, and a True Ending. The Bad Ending results in Damian being killed by Danny, it happens when Damian decides not to question or suspect Danny and treats him kindly. The Bad Ending is a cutscene, where Danny kills Damian quick and painlessly.
Meanwhile the Good Ending is Damian killing Danny. This is a boss fight, and it happens when Damian treats Danny coldly and suspiciously the whole time. Danny as a result, decides to make Damian's death painful as he had planned to, which is why it's a boss fight because it only causes him to double down on his anger.
The True Ending is Damian escapes with Tim. It happens when you treat Danny warmly up until the last minute, where when Danny proposes to Damian that he wants to show him something, Damian goes to talk to Tim and finally, reluctantly agrees that something is off with Danny, and that he'll be careful going in. It starts off with the boss fight until a third through, where it then changes to a cutscene where Tim manages to get the door open and Damian escapes out. It's then a chase scene down a never-ending hallway as the building actively works to keep you trapped inside. But you eventually make it to the exit so long as you avoid all the projectiles and doors.
Remember when I mentioned that Danny only lets people leave when he wants them to? That's where the treating Danny kindly throughout the game comes into play. It causes him to second guess himself and, eventually, reawaken and strengthen the love and admiration he had for Damian prior to his murder. It's why in the Bad Ending he kills Damian quickly -- because by then, he loves him enough that he doesn't want him to suffer, but is still so consumed by his rage and need for vengeance that he kills him anyways. That quiet part is what allows Damian (and Tim) to find the exit, because some part of Danny still loves Damian enough that he wants him to live.
The True Ending ends with a cutscene of Damian and Tim tumbling out into the snow/grass outside of the base. Damian looks up back to the entrance to see Danny standing there. But rather than a ten year old boy, there's a little five year old Danyal Al Ghul instead. He stares at Damian emotionlessly, blood seeping from his chest, staining his clothes, and little, bloody sword in his hands and tearstains on his cheeks, before he turns away and disappears back into the building.
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#danyal al ghul au#danny phantom#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dpdc#pit beast danny#danyal al ghul#dpxdc au#damian and danny forgiveness route is kinda like a post-true ending idea where damian decides to return to the base and find a way to help#danny.#and also because nobody in that fucking family processes grief in any kind of sane way he is also plotting a way to resurrect his dead#brother with the lazarus pits. he just needs to find where he was buried. and also hopefully get danny's permission. he's gonna do it anywa#but it'll be nicer if danny agrees to it beforehand. that way danny isn't angry with him when he eventually revives him#also if tim dies at any point during the game you have to restart to your last save point. there's not many opportunities for him to becaus#danny is honestly not that interested in him but its still there. some details for the game: danny's pit beast model has the highest#resolution out of everything there. meanwhile his human model has the lowest. he also lacks a shadow and his voice carries a strange echo#that's subtle enough to sound like an accidental audio mistake. his voice gets more warped as the good ending progresses and becomes more#human during both the true and bad ending. it indicates his forgiveness and growing care for damian. while in the good ending he gradually#grows more pissed.#danny has shit eyesight as a result of his eyes being gouged out for years. but since he's literally one with the building he doesn't#need any help walking through it. he can travel it with his eyes closed. if he's anywhere else though he needs to be holding onto something#he also has one eye covered in bandages in his ten year old form because he can't get that eye to heal and look human.
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salted caramel | lmh ( m )
you hadnât been aware that markâs jealousy followed the rules of baseball â three strikes, and he snaps?
read the first part here!
pairing: barista!bf!mark x reader verse: college!au rating: r warnings&tags: unprotected sex, mentions of creampies (although not an actual one), hickeys, possessiveness and jealousy, exhibitionism, sort of phone sex in conjunction with said exhibitionism, oral (m!receiving), mark has an understated but unending obsession with mcâs stomach, tummy bulges, we always love an implicit bigdick!mark, donghyuck is kind of a little shit and basically he has to cross a few lines for this âplotâ to get to where it gets word count: 20.3k
a/n: this is a bit rushed and panicked because I basically wrote it in a feverish 2.5ish days⌠iâm so sorry that the pacing might be a little off, especially since I can never tell if itâs actually too fast or not. this is also unedited and unbetaâd but oh well because i never edit my stuff before posting and just re-edit when I re-read! regardless, i hope itâs something that you can enjoy, and i couldnât pick between sweetest bf ever!mark and hottest mf ever!mark, so i guess you get a little bit of both!
if you liked it, please consider reblogging to support (especially because this may get flagged for mature content)!
You should have noticed it the first time, but in your overall defense, you find most things that you take note of about Mark Lee to be more on the highly positive and greatly endearing side â or, maybe, you just have a tendency to paint him in that kind of light.
You canât really help it; heâs still got that halfway shy, softly adoring look in his eyes whenever he sees you, which is more often now than ever before, and you just canât do anything but reciprocate, if only to see his eyes grow a little brighter. You wonder if Markâs aware that if this were a Shakespearean scenario, youâd easily fall on your sword for him without question, for as long as he asked, but you donât think thereâs any pressing need to remind him â not with the way you spend most of your free time figuring out ways to be with him. Youâre certain he should know, what with the fact that every time he looks at you, even just a glimpse, your gaze is always on him, ready to make eye contact whenever he turns his head â something he often acknowledges with one of those signature blushes that spread like wildfire across his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears.
It also should be unmistakably clear that youâre head over heels for him, given how at least once a week, heâs got his face buried between your legs in an attempt to hear the thing he wants you to say the most (see: his name, in varying pitches and decibels) â but if he doesnât notice then, you canât hold it against him; Markâs mouth is so attentive that you doubt his mind is anywhere else apart from what inch of you his tongue is going to meet next in that moment. At least, that much is true for you.
He should at least know, what with you waiting for his classes to end so you can walk to Starbucks for his afternoon shift; you even race the twenty-minute distance to the Department of Mathematics, still holding your European Renaissance History textbook from your last lecture, just to make sure youâre there right as he gets out â a fact he has to know is an act of devotion, considering how often he finds you heaving for air and leaning your back against the brick wall outside the Accounting 150 Lab. Even his professor knows you as Mark Leeâs admirer, which is all well and good, but if you had the breath to spare, youâd correct his terminology for accuracy. Girlfriend. Youâre Mark Leeâs girlfriend.
Itâs a fact you donât mind reminding him of but that you actually have to do quite often, because when you call Mark the appropriate counterpart â boyfriend â his eyes still widen, like heâs hearing it for the first time. Itâs cute, just like everything else about him. You just have to wonder, at times, if he doesnât believe you.
Whatever. It doesnât matter; youâll just keep telling him.
You donât have any classes with Mark this semester, which is a shame, considering your favorite pastime over the last few months had just been to stare at his side profile and wish heâd look over so you could kiss him, but the fact that you spend almost every day with him now, using that time to remind him of how much you want to kiss him and actually getting it to do it right then and there, pretty much more than makes up for your previous schedule of daydreaming.
However, hanging out with him doesnât always mean youâre just with him; you came to learn this after the first week of the new semester, and youâve now gotten used to the fact that with Mark Lee sometimes comes his band of tall, often loud friends.
The loudest by far is Lee Donghyuck, the mysterious figure last semester that youâd only known by one syllable, now easily recognizable (and no longer enigmatic by any means to you) by his booming voice and even more demanding personality. Heâs supremely outgoing, a trait you canât say you mind, but thereâs an interesting contrast between Mark, who tends to say things after carefully considering his ideas, and Donghyuck, who seems to just burst out in fits of impulsive rambling that often leads to some kind of semi-structured debate. It kind of gives you whiplash, in a funny, slightly perplexing way.
The whole friend group likes to meet up at Starbucks while Mark is on his shift, and now that theyâve come to know you as that girl Mark didnât teach a single thing in College Algebra to but still somehow got lucky with (something youâve wasted immense efforts into correcting but have ultimately failed to do so), you now find yourself sitting with them, all somehow waiting for who appears to be the nucleus of this group to stop taking coffee orders and hang up his (cute, but youâre the only one that thinks so, actually) green apron.
Again, you donât mind it; new people arenât an issue to you, and youâre also interested in finding out more about Mark through those closest to him. You get to see the few ways theyâre alike in contrast to the staggering number of things that make them amusingly different from one another. Despite the broad spectrum of their intersecting interests, youâve come to learn, through the conversations youâve had to sit through over the last month, that they have varying opinions on said interests. For instance, you know theyâre all into video games, Japanese manga, and long-winding fantasy movies, but every conversation takes flight the moment thereâs even a spark of dissent from one person â and the source, usually (and quite unfortunately), is Lee Donghyuck himself.
Today is no exception.
âDude, youâre crazy,â Zhong Chenle practically seethes. Whether by sheer coincidence or actual desire, heâs the one who most often finds himself staring Donghyuck down, trying to bend the latterâs will into admitting defeat. Donghyuck, on the other hand, has mastered the art of looking supremely unperturbed, especially when Chenle is in the heat of his rage. âThe ninth was the worst, hands down.â
âArt and rendering were so solid.â Donghyuck raises a finger, and youâre not sure if itâs to start off a list or to shut Chenle up. You donât want to ask, anyway, too busy finding amusement in the shifting expressions of despair, rage, anguish, and murderous intent on the latterâs face to speak up. You presume thatâs why everyone else isnât stopping them â or maybe theyâre just preparing their own defenses and points to raise. âIntuitive combat and flawless combo chains. The fucking open world? Which other installment in the franchise offers that much depth in the gameplay?â
âDepth? Do you even hear yourself right now?â Chenle grips his head so tightly that when he pulls his hands away, there are actual red marks across his forehead and temple, and his bangs are askew. âWhat kind of depth comes from cloned movesets? The character designs are so stupidly traditional too. Andââ
âThereâs a unique kind of beauty in familiarity.â
âThe open world was a disaster,â Chenle plows on. âIt was so empty, and the map was the farthest thing from intuitive. Itâs quite literally the worst thing KOEI has ever done. Thatâs exactly why they went back to the limited map strategy in later installments. Even the spin-offs.â
âI thought the grappling and ambush systems were pretty intuitive. Ingenious, even.â
Itâs a singularly amusing sight â Chenle is one insult to his pride away from imploding, and Donghyuck is just checking the dirt under his nails like heâs waiting in line to take his school ID photo. Park Jisung, one of the quieter ones in the bunch, tries to diffuse the tension by clearing his throat and going âI actually really liked the Age Of Calamity Zelda one they released with all the different campaigns,â but that just goes unnoticed by either party.
âYou once failed an ambush play just because you were stuck behind a wall you couldnât scale. Donât say shit about the ambush and grappling mechanics.â
âUnlike some people sitting around this table, I learn from my mistakes. Thatâs also probably why some people â not naming names â just canât appreciate the artistic beauty that is Dynasty Warriors 9.â
Donghyuck doesnât even look up from his cuticles when Chenle explodes.
âYouâre fucking impossible!â
âCan you guys relax?â Lee Jeno, who had somehow miraculously found the space and silence in the breaths between the entire argument to doze off, opens one eye, only slightly irate. âYouâre making a scene over a dead game franchise.â
âItâs not dead; theyâre on hiatus,â both Chenle and Donghyuck chime in together, apparently finding a moment of unique solidarity to shoot Jeno down before going back to glaring daggers at each other. Jeno shrugs, gives everyone else at the table an I tried kind of exasperated expression, and settles back into his seat, the one eye already closing before heâs fully folded his arms across his chest.
Your eyes wander away from the group over to the counter. Youâre thankful for the fact that most of the time, you just get invited to share a table with them without necessarily being trapped in the middle of a conversation â especially one as heated as the one Chenle is prolonging while jabbing his finger accusingly at Donghyuck, as if heâs trying to pin a crime on the latter instead of just explaining why Donghyuckâs opinion is âborne of ignorance.â When theyâre all caught up in their business like this, you end up being able to revel in your more or less unobstructed view of Mark behind the baristaâs station, where heâs busy piping an extra helping of whipped cream on top of a strawberry frappuccino for a kid thatâs already jumping up and down next to the pick-up station.
The biting winter had already given way to the first signs of spring, and the Starbucks Mark works at has a supremely effective central heating system that allows people to shed their coats. This works in your favor, considering Mark wears nothing but a button-up shirt over his apron while he works, and heâs got this habit of rolling up his sleeves so they donât catch any stains. Youâre pretty sure he has a second motive, though; surely, heâs aware of how the view of his arms, muscles tightening under his skin whenever he even lightly grips something, drives you crazy. Youâd bet a monthâs allowance heâs doing it on purpose so that you start entertaining the thought of yelling at everyone in the branch to fuck off so you can grab him by the front of his stupid shirt so you can kiss his stupid face. Or ride it.
And for some inexplicable reason, he still has the audacity to act like thereâs nothing amiss. When he looks up at you right after pushing the frappuccino towards the little girl, his eyes still brighten, almost innocent in their gaze, the corners of his lips turning up surreptitiously, hiding the smile he seems to save for only you from everyone else in the room.
You smile back, but when he turns away to take someoneâs order, you let out a heavy sigh and take a long sip of your vanilla sweet cream cold brew until you start reaching the last dregs of it under the ice. Your brain pretty much cries out in protest, but you know it deserves as much as a mental cold shower for entertaining the thought of asking him to bend you over the counter at five-thirty in the afternoon in a Starbucks.
Stupid Mark. Stupid brain. Stupid fucking people in the room.
The warm breath in your ear alerts you to a slowly approaching presence, but you donât have the reflexes to turn back to its source before it starts talking.
âGot anything to add to either of our cases, ___________?â
âWhat?â Your palm comes up to rub your ear as Donghyuck pulls away, laughing lightly. Youâre sucked back into the foreground of the conversation, but youâre just as lost now as you had been before you started tuning them out in favor of your lust. âUh â no. Sorry. To be honest, I know nothing about⌠sorry, what were you guys talking about again?â
âSee, thatâs how normal people act,â Jeno grumbles, both his eyes flying open this time. âInstead of hosting a presidential debate about Dynasty Warriors.â
âNot that thereâs anything wrong with that.â Youâre quick to add, and Jeno looks mildly amused at your attempt to still mollify the rest of the group. âIâm sure I would have liked it. If, you know, I actually had been introduced to it at any point in my life.â
âAnd if you had, Iâm sure youâd have the taste to assert alongside me that the seventh installment was revolutionary,â Chenle sniffs, but heâs looking more pointedly at Donghyuck, whoâs still ignoring him, save for the fact that heâs now looking at you instead of at his nails (which doesnât feel like such a great upgrade).
âNah, sheâd be on my side. ___________ looks like sheâd appreciate a good, scenic open world and grappling system. Right?â
âUhâŚâ you say smartly.
âMan, shut up.â Chenle throws his hands in the air before he stands up, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushes it back with astounding force. âGot me so pissed off I need to pee now.â
You have no idea what the correlation is between getting annoyed and needing to use the bathroom, but even if you wanted to bring up your doubts â which you donât â Chenle is long gone before you can get your thoughts together. Itâs only when heâs out of earshot that Donghyuck leans in, almost conspiratorially, to whisper to you again.
âActually, I think the ninth sucks too. But isnât it kind of funny how worked up that fucker gets?â
âTo be honest, Iâve never known anyone with quite your talent in riling people up,â you admit, and even though youâre not sure what kind of meaning you want attached to that, you notice that he decides to take it as a compliment all on his own, his chest puffing out in pride. âToo bad I have no idea which opinion is really right, or Iâd weigh in, too.â
âNot a Dynasty Warriors kind of girl, then?â
âNo one is, Hyuck,â Jeno snorts, shaking his head. âYou two are the only people I know who still played that past the fifth installment.â
âFair. I nurture a love for old franchises.â Donghyuck leans back, looking supremely satisfied at how heâs managed to tick off one of his most important âto-doâ points of the day. âSo whatâs your poison, ___________?â
âWhatâs that mean?â
âYou a Gardenscapes kind of girl? Tekken? Maybe you like some good olâ fashioned LoL?â
âI honestly donât have the hand-eye coordination to play,â you confess. âI know Mark likes to play PUBG from time to time. I mostly just sit and ask questions, though. The few times I tried playing with him, I swear any normal person wouldâve cried. He had to babysit me like crazy. It was a miracle he didnât throw me out.â
âShe even tries to play with him,â Donghyuck whistles lowly. âDude, howâd Mark get a chick like you?â
âMeaning?â
âYouâre way too good for that dope.â His laugh is light and good-natured. âNever thought a moony-eyed weirdo like him would actually wind up with his dream girl â which heâs called you, more than once, by the way. Fucking disgusting, but⌠I get it. Doesnât make it less crazy or weird to hear, though.â
âSorry to put you through that.â You smile, using your straw to stir the contents of your cup. A warmth spreads through your shoulders and down your arms to the tips of your fingers as you digest what Donghyuckâs just said to you, and you find your eyes trailing back to Mark, whoâs pulling off his apron. His eyes are already fixed on you, and when you lock gazes, he mouths a wait for me that makes you want to squeeze the life out of something in pure joy. You settle for a soft sigh. âI guess it wonât help if I say your friend over thereâs my dream guy.â
âIt absolutely will not,â Donghyuck groans, faking a gagging noise that has you laughing. âBut tell you what â if you ever get tired of Mark playing PUBG and ignoring you like the clown he is, Iâll find you someone else more your speed.â
âNo thanks,â you snort, taking the last sip of your drink. âMore than that, Iâd just want to be some kind of helpful to him if I ever play with him again.â
âWe can help you with that too,â Jisung volunteers. âJeno taught me the basics. Iâm sure he can teach you too.â
âYeah, and Iâm guessing youâd be a better student than mister âhow come you didnât tell me I had to focus the crosshairs myselfâ over here,â Jeno chuckles, surreptitiously pointing at Jisung when you cast him a questioning look.
âIâm pretty good at sneak attacks myself.â Donghyuck makes a show of pretending to slice your neck before grinning smugly. âWeâll take care of you. Mark wonât know what hit him next time.â
âWhatâs happening to me next time?â
You feel Mark before you see him, his hand landing on your head lightly and smoothing your hair back in an idle, gentle motion to announce his presence. You look up at him, already beaming, and he returns the favor as his hand settles on your shoulder.
âWe were just talking about replacing you. Both as a friend and as a boyfriend, for your poor little dream girl here whoâs just too nice to turn you down.â Donghyuck lies like itâs second nature; you wonder if thatâs a Finance major thing or just a him thing.
âAnd youâre offering that to someone who didnât ask for it?â Mark snorts, nudging Chenleâs bag over so he can sit in the empty spot.
âSheâs so caught up in your sticky little web that she canât struggle against you.â Donghyuck feigns a heavy sigh that suggests he feels sorry for you before he puts a hand on your free shoulder, shaking his head in a convincing kind of pity. âIâll save you, so donât worry. Mark canât keep his grubby hands on you forever. Whenever you need to be saved, Iâll come a-running to free you.â
Thereâs a tightness on one shoulder that disrupts the balance of your torso, and you find yourself leaning closer to Mark. Your hand finds its way to his knee, giving it a light squeeze under the table, and his grip loosens by a fraction. Donghyuckâs as quick to let go as he is to hang on.
âWe were just talking about PUBG,â you correct, and Markâs eyes snap to you. âI was asking for help â you know, so I wonât drag you down the next time I join in?â
âI donât mind whatever you do in-game.â Heâs quick to comfort you, even if you donât actually need it, but it feels warm and cold âIâm just glad you wanna try it with me.â
âNo, but I kind of want to learn too. So it can be fun for both of us. Also so you donât have to keep avenging me after five minutes,â you laugh. Mark cracks a smile then, and you donât realize his expression had been slightly harder until it softens under your gaze.
âThen Iâll teach you next time.â
âNo, I want to surprise you with how cool I get. And then next time, Iâll even beat you.â You turn to Donghyuck, slightly unsure. âUh⌠I can beat him, canât I?â
âIf you play different teams, yeah,â he confirms. âTrust me. Iâll help you kick his ass.â
âOr weâll both kick yours,â Mark chuckles, his grasp now tightening and loosening intermittently. Heâs massaging your shoulder lightly, and you end up sinking deeper into his side. You donât miss the slightly nauseated amusement that passes across Donghyuckâs face nor the way he mouths âsapâ to Mark, who ignores this comment in its entirety.
âYo, hotpot at seven? Renjunâs asking,â Chenle announces as he returns to your table, his phone in one hand and a crumpled paper towel in the other. âJaemin canât make it, though. Study group or whatever shit he always says.â
âIâm down,â Donghyuck immediately replies, and Chenleâs eyes shoot heavenward, like heâs already asking for the divine strength to not sock Donghyuck in the face later.
âCanât,â Jeno yawns, both his arms outstretched as he tries to move the sleep out of his spine. âPre-test tomorrow.â
âDude, itâs a pre-test,â Donghyuck rolls his eyes. âYou donât have to study if theyâre just testing how much you know before studying.â
âGotta study all the same.â
âI gotta pass too,â Jisung looks actually apologetic. âI promised my mom Iâd help her move some stuff to my auntâs place tonight.â
âBoring,â Chenle grumbles before turning to the both of you. âLovebirds?â
âRain check,â Mark shakes his head. âFamily dinner. My brotherâs home for the weekend. How about Monday instead? Most of us canât make it anyway. At least Jaemin doesnât have study group either.â
âIf thatâs even what that weirdoâs doing,â Chenle sighs, already punching in a message to send to Renjun. âFine; Iâll ask about Monday. You guys better actually reply to the goddamn group chat. I canât coordinate in six different private chats ever again.â
âYou can put my name down already,â Mark casts you a sideway glance, and you nod immediately. âTwo names, actually.â
âIâm good on Monday too. When we see each other again, Iâll bring some prospects for you to sift through,â Donghyuck adds to you, and you laugh. âCool guys. Jocks. I know this upperclassman all the girls say is really hot. I think I still have his Messenger from when we did a group discussion last semester.â
âIâll have Mark look at them so he can reject them all for me,â you promise. Donghyuck feigns affront before looking at Mark in utter disbelief.
âHow the fuck did you snag a girl like this, man?â
âIâm pretty sure she once told me I⌠what did you say?â Mark glances at you amusedly. âI had some moves, I guess.â
âYou mean stutter and blush in her presence?â Donghyuck canât decide how to look at you without being even the slightest bit offensive; he just settles on incredulity. âAnd that won you over?â
âMost powerful move in the Mark Lee playbook,â you shrug, grinning. âHad me from the first âum,â and heâs had me ever since.â
âYou lucky son of a bitch,â Donghyuck snorts, and neither of you misses the slightly abashed but unmistakable smugness in Markâs face when you lean in to rest your head on his shoulder.
The second time it happens is on that Monday, in a far more noticeable capacity. You just arenât quick enough to read the signs, as usual.
But in your defense (again), it hadnât felt all that significant.
âFuck, this is spicy,â Na Jaemin sucks air in through his teeth and lets it out in a sharp whistle thatâs broken by a laugh thatâs not necessarily at anything funny. Maybe heâs just laughing at the sheen of sweat across his forehead that he has to wipe off with the other side of his napkin.
Miraculously, the hotpot plan pushes through, with no small amount of effort in coordination on Chenleâs part; heâd even texted you just to make sure heâd gotten the head count right, despite the fact that Mark had already confirmed your attendance twice over. Even the often elusive Na Jaemin, who always seems to have one or another study group to attend on most nights, manages to come and is currently busy mixing his peanut sauce in his little bowl with such vigor that you canât help but wonder if heâs not trying to drown the mala-flavored strips of meat in it completely.
âThatâs why I said you need a bowl of water for dipping, you dimwit,â Donghyuck points his chopsticks at Jaeminâs messy plate in a way you can only describe as nagging, even if thatâs actually impossible. âYouâve got super mala breath now.â
âDonât know about me, but I can smell yours all the way from over here,â Jaemin quips back with an easy kind of nonchalance, hastily ducking the balled-up napkin that goes flying across the table. It lands on the floor behind his chair harmlessly.
Itâs nice, you think, that Markâs friends like to invite you to their outings now; despite all the jokes theyâve made at his expense, theyâve been consistently open to having you around. Youâre not necessarily the type of couple that acts in a way that disgusts people into moving to a completely different table anyway, and you allow their conversations to unfold easily without ever interrupting, so you think that this arrangement works for all parties involved.
Theyâre even louder outside Starbucks, youâve come to note; the restaurant is significantly busier than the cafe anyway, filled with people on their company dinners, so Markâs friends all seem to want to rival that boisterous energy. Weirdly, you like it, even when theyâre already half off their seats and one (Chenle) is just about to strangle the other (Donghyuck). The laughter flows freely, and thereâs a messiness to the whole affair that makes it impossible to feel uncomfortable.
Even Mark pipes in occasionally, offering his opinion on topics he knows much more about than you, and you canât help but admire how everyone listens to him when he starts to speak, even if he has nothing realistically important to say. His friends might find it odd that youâd been so drawn to him, but they just donât know that even theyâre victims of Markâs natural magnetism, also falling quiet and eager to hear his voice, his light-hearted laugh, in response to the things they say.
But even when heâs mostly distracted by conversation, thereâs a part of him that continuously pays attention to you in his own way. He nudges his ginger and soy sauce bowl towards you with the side of his wrist so you can dip your beef in, even if youâd adamantly declined him giving you your own bowl of it in the first place (youâd always thought you were peanut sauce or nothing kind of girl, but one sneaky venture into Markâs sauce proved you wrong). His hand hovers over your head when you drop your chopsticks and bend over to pick them up from where theyâve rolled under the table, making sure youâre bump-free when you resurface.
And his palms always, always settle somewhere on you, no matter what heâs doing. If one hand is busy feeding himself, the other is intent on warming your thigh, passing over the denim in slow, steady strokes. His fingers tickle your knee when you laugh, just to make you laugh a little harder â youâd even almost kneed the table at one point, much to Huang Renjunâs alarm. But the most common place for his arm is around you, fingers lightly bunched into the side of your shirt, like heâs worried loosening his grip on you further will cause you to vanish. It keeps him close to you, keeps his scent and warmth washing over you in gentle waves, so much so that you often have to remind yourself that heâll be the target of much light-hearted mockery if you so much as lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder.
But itâs hard to resist it, especially when his hand seems to be intent on outlining every curve on that side, passing over your hip and dipping into your waist. The motion allows him to slowly but surely lift the fabric of your shirt, up until thereâs just enough of an opening for his palm to slip under, and suddenly itâs much warmer on that side, with the light roughness of his hand grazing at your skin. His fingers always stretch apart, like heâs trying to feel as much of you as he can, and the pads of his digits have a tendency to graze the plane of your stomach â his nails sometimes even travel featherlight just next to your navel, etching out words you canât really decipher. Like heâs writing a message just for you.
It makes you feel like no matter what heâs doing, a part of his mind is always on you.
âYou guys want to see that new horror movie? The Ghost Within, I think itâs called,â Jisung asks the group from over at the other end of the table, having to raise his voice significantly to make sure it isnât swept away by the raucous laughter from across the restaurant. âI think itâs coming out in a week or two.â
âIâd be okay with it,â Renjun shrugs, although he doesnât look enthused. âKind of looks like a cliche horror with all those cheap jump scares and shit, but Iâm down if you all are.â
A wave of assent passes over the group in general, but you notice Mark doesnât immediately respond. You take this opportunity to lean in and confess your stance.
âIf I have to sit around and watch a ghost pop out at me from a big-ass movie screen, you may never again see me in the same wonderful light you do today,â you warn. âRemember me as I am, not as I will be, Mark Lee.â
He snorts, coughing lightly as a mixture of ginger and fishcake sticks in his throat. âYeah â weâll pass, I think.â
âScaredy-cat,â Donghyuck teases, and youâre surprised that Mark doesnât come to his own defense. Thereâs something romantic in him not wanting to be the one to sell you out, but you suppose thereâs also a kind of chivalry in being the one to take the bullet.
âActually, Iâm the one who canât handle it well,â you smile in apology. âSorry. I donât have much of a reputation, so to speak, but what elegance may be attached to my name, however misplaced, is something I really want to maintain. At least until I graduate.â
âIn short, you donât want Mark to see you scream and cry,â Chenle deduces. You canât even find fault in him figuring it out so quickly.
âBingo.â
âWell, we can solve the problem,â Donghyuck claps his hands, getting everyoneâs attention for no good reason. â__________, you sit beside me, and Mark can sit on the far end of the row. With how dark it is, he wonât see anything, and I get to sit next to a cute girl in a movie theater. Win-win.â
âThanks for the offer,â you laugh, shaking your head. âBut itâs not a win-win if I accidentally grab your hand out of instinct.â
âIt is to me,â Donghyuck winks, and you feel Markâs hand stop brushing over your stomach. His fingers curl in lightly, almost like heâs trying to make a fist but canât quite get to that point out of personal restraint. âOr better yet, you could do what we all think you should do and dump Mark for someone you wonât be ashamed to cry in front of. I, for one, would not even bother to comment on whatever emotions youâre going through in the middle of a movie, so what do you say? Itâs a pretty sweet deal, in my humble opinion. Me versus Mark Lee. The showdown of the century, right here in Hai Di Lao.â
Youâve noticed that the more Donghyuck piles onto his little teasing rampage, the more forcefully Mark tugs you over; his fingers arenât just skimming over your skin but have now grown into the habit of gently pinching it, as if begging for your attention. It feels nice but also a little urgent, although itâs hard for you to understand why; the whole foundation of this group is built on teasing each other until someone (Chenle) snaps and lobs a bottle cap at someone else (Donghyuck), so it should be normal for Mark to be at the receiving end of some light banter.
âShould we ask the hostess to referee the match, then?â You ride along with the joke.
âNo way. Youâre the one calling the shots.â Donghyuck sits up a little straighter, putting on a smug face. âOkay, pick, __________. Me or Mark; whoâs got the better punches?â
You make a show of acting thoughtful, even tapping your chin to pretend considering it deeply, but there was never any doubt on your choice. Still, you canât really decipher the sudden slowness, the light tremble in Markâs palm as it travels to your hip, where it settles, heavy, over the curve.
âItâs a complete knock-out,â you finally announce, grinning. âChampionship belt goes to Mark.â
âMan, if I had a girlfriend as straight-shooting about her feelings for me as you are about your feelings for Mark, Iâd propose in a day, max,â Jeno groans, half-exasperated and half-amused all at once.
âMan mustâve saved a nation or something in his past life,â Donghyuck grimaces. âNo way he deserves a girl this hot and crazy about him. Hey â got any tips on stopping natural disasters or something? I could use a sexy, loyal girlfriend in my next life. Or maybe Iâll just poach yours in this one and see what it feels like.â
âI would actually deck you, so donât even try it,â Mark snorts, his arm now winding full around your waist. Youâre flush against his side, and he uses this opportunity to do something he doesnât often do in front of his friends: show explicit affection by pressing a light kiss just behind your ear. It tickles, his breath grazing your earlobe, and you giggle, squirming in his hold. All he does is smile and pull you in tighter.
The billâs split eight ways, but Markâs fishing out cash to pay for your share even before you can get your wallet out from the bottom of your bag; itâs one of those quick, instinctive moves he likes to use on you, where he pushes the money and sends the bill back to the staff before you can even protest in full, so you have to settle on thanking him by returning the earlier favor â landing a peck on his cheek, which flushes a warm and contented pink the moment your lips make contact.
You just pointedly ignore the snickers that run around the table, particularly from Donghyuck and Jaemin.
The group splits ways at the front of the school dorms; most of them head in after their goodbyes, while Chenle backtracks towards his apartment building off-campus, mumbling something about how he hopes his roommateâs in because he accidentally left his key in the bowl next to their doorway. Mark should be piling in with the rest into the dorms, but he has a habit of insisting that he take you to the subway station; youâve long since given up on convincing him against tagging along, mostly because he looks slightly hurt whenever you try to get him to stay put. Youâre not going to complain anyway; for as much as you like being around Markâs friends, itâs even better when you have this little slice of alone time despite the hassle it brings him.
Your fingers are linked when you walk under the street lights, the campus road leading to the station entrance significantly less busy at this time of evening; itâs cool enough for you to have an excuse to press yourself into Markâs form, and he accepts this additional burden with an immense amount of grace, his arm finding its way around you again. Two minutes later, his palm is pressed against your bare skin once more, rubbing small, gentle circles just above your pelvis.
A part of you wonders if youâll be able to do this â lean in, flush against him â when the summer heat starts to stick, but rather than really worrying about the logistics, you realize youâre more hung up on the idea of spending this summer with him.
âSorry,â Mark murmurs out of the blue. Your eyebrows shoot up, and he looks down at you sheepishly. âIsnât hanging out with my friends kind of driving you crazy?â
You hum in thought before shaking your head in resolution. âNot really. Not in a bad way, at least. I like how close you guys all are â and how big the group is. Itâs usually just Yeji and Jisu with me, and theyâre definitely not as rowdy. The change of pace is pretty fun.â
âYeji and Jisu,â he echoes. âYour best friends. I havenât met them yet, have I?â
âNot yet. Jisu started a part-time job across town, so we canât get our schedules to align right just yet.â Your hip collides gently with his. âShould I let you, though?â
âOne day⌠I think it would be nice to hang out with a less migraine-inducing crowd for a change.â
âIâll tell them, then. They want to meet you.â You crane your neck up slightly, lowering your voice into a hushed whisper thatâs completely unnecessary. âThey want to know if youâre as cute as you look in your pictures.â
Mark draws back, laughing incredulously. âHow do they know what my pictures look like?â
âI stalked your Instagram and showed them,â you answer simply. He throws you a funny look thatâs equal parts disbelief and amusement. âThey liked that one with the Spider-man costume.â
âPlease donât,â he groans, passing a hand over his face. âI should have taken that down, but I didnât think anyone would care.â
âWhy? I like it.â Your handâs the one that manages to slip under his sweater this time, fingers trailing down his stomach; you feel him suck it in for a second in surprise before he lets out an exhale.
âI canât ever understand whatâs going through your head,â he chuckles, and you think itâs unfair that he manages to extract your hand from under the fabric while his is still firmly pressed against the side of your stomach. âYou saw that and still wanted to date me?â
âMark Lee, you simply underestimate how much I adore you. Itâs kind of hurting my feelings at this rate.â
Youâre just a few inches shy of the circle of light cast by the subway station sign. Your feet try to bring you forward, but Mark lingers behind, just outside the curve of soft white on the pavement, and his hand slips from under your shirt. You turn, and his hand skims down your arm instead, fingers locking around your wrist. With the slight distance between you, it looks like youâre caught in motion.
âI still canât wrap my head around it sometimes.â
âWhat?â
âI just look over at you and feel like itâs not real. Like youâre going to disappear, and Iâm just going to wake up from a dream and see you the next day, just some other stranger who doesnât even know my name.â He licks his lips, and you want to reach out and kiss him already, but you know he isnât done talking. âAnd Iâm going to remember how much I liked you in that dream, but you wonât ever feel that same way.â
âYou know Iâm right here, though, donât you?â Your fingers mimic his, squeezing around his wrist. âYou can feel me. Iâm here with you.â
Hesitation flashes across his face even when he nods, and you notice his eyes flit down to his shoes before looking back up at you â a habit of avoidance you know heâs trying to correct. âSometimes I have to wonder if theyâre right.â
âIf⌠whoâs right?â
âThem.â He jerks his thumb back in the general direction of the school dorms. âThe guys. You know â when they ask me how I got a girl like you⌠the truth is, I donât even really know. They canât believe it, and itâs so crazy to me that I still sometimes canât myself. So I start wondering ifââ
You donât let him finish this time; itâs rude to interrupt, you know, but you also know that what heâs about to say is probably something neither of you wants to hear anyway. Your lips connect with his, firm and demanding, and his words die in his throat, melting into a soft groan that vibrates against your skin. When you pull away, you donât create the same distance, and Markâs hands find their way to your waist, slightly trembling.
âTheyâre wrong,â you murmur, a quiet strength in your voice. âSo stop wondering and just be with me.â
A smile starts tugging on the corners of his mouth, and the next moment, heâs nodding in assent, in wholehearted agreement, and the next kiss you share is one he starts, far more gentle than earlier.
âNext time I catch you entertaining nonsensical thoughts, thereâll be consequences.â
âAre you threatening me?â His laugh is colored with incredulity.
âYes.â Your tone is firm, but your grin gives away too much of the jest. âMaybe Iâll ground you for a week, or something really childish.â
âIâd take it if you were with me.â
âThatâs not how it works,â you snort, gently flicking the tip of his nose. He scrunches it on impact. âYouâd be in solitary. You must reflect on your actions and all that nonsense. Meanwhile, Iâll be out having some good hotpot with everyone else.â
âIf that happens, promise me one thing, then.â He maneuvers your stance until youâre both back in the blanket of darkness, just out of reach of the subway entrance. âDonât sit next to Donghyuck.â
âAnd let him and Chenle give me an earful about how bad-slash-good the first Human Centipede movie was all over again? I think not.â
âNo, really.â Mark buries his face into your neck, and you hear the quiet inhale as he breathes in your scent. On instinct, your hand comes up to thread through his hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp. âI donât want you sitting there and hearing him talk your ear off about how much I donât deserve you or that heâll help you find someone better.â
âYou know heâs just joking â and Iâm just joking, right?â
âJust promise me.â
You pause, wondering if itâs in your best interest to tease him for whatever act heâs pulling, but thereâs a shortness to his breathing that makes the whole situation feel weirdly tense. Heâs really waiting for something â an answer. The right answer, maybe.
âI promise,â you finally say, and you know youâve said the correct thing when Markâs lips press a soft kiss to your collarbone, like heâs sealing in your vow.
On the third time, Mark pretty much gives up.
The strangest thing is that it starts at a time when youâre not even actually together; if you had to pinpoint the exact moment, it probably had to be when Donghyuck had walked you to the dorm from library. No â maybe even before that. Somewhere in the time youâd spent in there, heâd thought up yet another way to push Markâs buttons. You just didnât really know the exact minute heâd first seen you with Jung Jaehyun.
You donât know how Jaehyun does it; he skips half his classes and somehow doesnât even get in trouble, let alone fail. Youâd only met him last semester, but he was just about the only person who was halfway familiar in your Anthropology 120 class, so you thought you could at least feel comfortable enough to chat with him about the weather or what had happened in the last meeting. You donât expect him to strong-arm you into being something of a literal proxy for him; the first week of the semester, youâd spend almost each lecture period gnawing on your nails and fretting over the fact that your signature for attendance looked nothing like his. By the second week, youâd already come to realize that it doesnât matter because he had only attended one lecture â the first one â thus far and your professor was as clueless about Jaehyunâs handwriting as you. By the fourth week, you had resigned yourself to being his slightly unwilling associate for his random escapades, allowing him to copy off your notes and turning in his homework for him.
Now that you think about it, thatâs probably how he does it.
You sacrifice your free time for him today, caged up in a library for pretty much the afternoon. You canât help but resent him, not just because the whole room is stuffy and the librarian keeps passing by, clucking to remind people not to litter between shelves, but also because youâd much rather do things that are important to you â like pretending to flirt with Mark for the first time when you place your order and watching him act like itâs the first time youâre saying something so sweet to him, except heâs definitely not pretending. Instead of watching Markâs face color that cute shade of pink and that sweet little smile pull at his mouth until heâs basically biting his lips back to stop himself from grinning, you have to bore yourself with the sight of Jaehyun trying to decipher your handwriting.
âYou should really be more legible with your strokes.â He has the audacity to chastise you as if heâs the one doing you a favor by giving you constructive criticism.
âYou should really come to class more often,â you bite back, although thereâs no real heat to your words. You just look out the window and watch the sun sink down behind the university hospital building, wondering if thereâs a chance youâll still be able to catch Mark before his shift ends.
âWould if I could.â
âYou actually fucking can,â you say tiredly, and even the way he turns the page is so impossibly slow. âCanât you just take a picture?â
âNah; writing it down carefully really helps my retention of this kind of stuff.â
âSo take a picture and then write it down carefully.â
âWith your ridiculous handwriting? Iâd probably fail.â
âSo come to class and write it yourself!â
Your hiss increases in pitch, and it calls the attention of the librarian over to you. She swoops in, clicking her tongue, but sheâs not even looking at you. Her eyes are zoned in on Jaehyun, who meets her gaze with so much innocence itâs hard to imagine youâd wanted to smack him two minutes ago.
âJung Jaehyun,â the librarian snaps in an undertone. The slow, punctuated way she says his name suggests she knows him fairly well â and not in a great way. âI see youâre back in here after your probationary period.â
âSorry for the trouble, Mrs. Park.â He grins up at her, looking anything but apologetic. âI promise I wonât get in your way again today.â
âAnd this oneââ She points to you, and you point to yourself in shock at being pointed to, and Jaehyunâs pointing at you and mouthing âthis oneâ with excessive mirth in his eyes. âIsnât another one of those girls you plan on defiling my sacred space with?â
Jaehyun says âwe didnât defile anythingâ at the same time you say Iâm going to throw up, and the librarian just adds to the noise by shushing you on top of that jumble of words.
âIâll be keeping a close eye on you two,â Mrs. Park warns before stalking away, tutting at a library assistant for wrongly shelving a volume of Encyclopedia Brittanica.
âPlease, Jaehyun,â you groan, crossing your arms over the table and flattening your forehead against them. âJust hurry up. Release me.â
He ignores you, still leaning closer to your notebook to decipher your handwriting. âI would like to set the record straight and make it known I didnât fuck anyone in the library.â
âWhatâd you get probation for, then?â
âJust making out.â You notice he has the energy to grin wickedly even without meeting your eye, even while heâs still scrawling on his own notebook, and you groan something incoherent and irate once again. âWhat are you in such a big hurry for, anyway?â
âHas it ever occurred to you,â you grumble, raising your head. âThat some people might want to do better things than sit here and watch you write stuff for ages?â
âNo,â comes his simple reply. You bop your head onto your arms a few times in the hope that the impact will shake you out of this nightmare and youâd find yourself waking up in Markâs arms instead, but you have no such luck. âBy better things, do you mean fucking Mark Lee in someone elseâs bedroom? Thatâs real defilement, by the way.â
âHowâd you hear about that?â You squeeze your eyes shut and growl under your breath. âFucking Youngho.â
âYou doing that too?â
âShut â please, would you hurry?â
He pointedly purses his lips in an effort to keep himself from letting out what you can only assume is, by the glint in his eyes, a witchâs cackle. âAlmost done, man. Relax a bit. So did you guys get together â like, together together?â
You initially contemplate not telling him, but Jaehyunâs nosiness is probably going to reveal the truth to him sooner or later anyway. âYeah. Whatâs it to you, though?â
âNothing. Youâre lucky.â
For the first time today, you feel like Jaehyun has finally said something right. âYeah â yeah, I am.â
âI bet his friends donât seem to think so.â
âIs this something you know because itâs a guy thing or because youâre so nosy that you just canât help but listen in on every other juicy conversation around you?â
âA bit of both,â he chuckles. âMostly just because I know Lee Donghyuck was giving him a hard time about it last semester.â
âI noticed that too â a bit, anyway. But itâs just banter, I think.â
âProbably. Imagine being his friend and getting a girlfriend; itâs like⌠the perfect ammunition for teasing. But Iâm pretty sure half of the things that come out of his mouth are jokes meant to annoy.â
âWhat about yours?â
âI get it,â he sighs, shutting your notebook resolutely. It makes a thud that alerts the librarian two tables away, and she glares at you like youâre climbing onto Jaehyunâs lap in the middle of the References on the Korean War aisle. âIâll set you free. Thanks, by the way, for letting me copy from you. Same time next week?â
âOr how about you look up the schedules for our classes and actually come instead of piggybacking off of my efforts and making snarky remarks about my handwriting while youâre taking advantage of my goodwill?â
âSounds like too much effort on my end,â he yawns, waving you off as you stuff your notebook into your bag. âLater, ___________. Say hi to Mark for me. The normal way â not the girlfriend way, please.â
You stick your tongue out at him before you make a mad dash for the door, ignoring Mrs. Park as she shushes your footsteps on the marble. Youâre so intent on fishing your phone out of your bag that you almost ram the door into the person standing behind it.
âOh, fuckâ Jesus, Iâm sorry, I waâ wait, Donghyuck?â
âGreat to see you too, ___________.â He rubs his jaw where the edge of the door grazed it. âYou in a rush?â
âI was just about to go see if Mark was still at Starbucks.â
âHis shiftâs probably almost over. Iâm headed back to the dorm if you wanna tag along.â When you nod, he starts leading the way, breaking the silence again soon after. âWere you in a study group, or something?â
âNo,â you jerk your thumb backwards towards the minuscule form of Jaehyun, whoâs now busy wasting time and space playing something on his phone where youâd left him. Donghyuckâs eyebrows shoot up. âHeâs my classmate who never comes to class. I was just lending him my notes.â
âOh, Jaehyun, yeah.â Donghyuck snaps his fingers. âWe were classmates last semester. He never went to class either, but I donât know who he mooched off of to pass. You guys close?â
âNot really. I just fell into the trap of being too nice to him.â
âItâs funny,â he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets. âJaehyun seems more your speed. On paper, at least.â
You canât help but look taken aback, and Donghyuck laughs at your expression. âWhat do you mean, my speed?â
âNot sure.â He pauses, trying to find the right words to explain himself. âSomeone whoâd fit more into your social circles. Someone who probably likes Formula One and considers menâs health magazines to be classic literature.â
âThatâs your impression of my social circle?â
âYou know what I mean. People like Jung Jaehyun or Seo Youngho. I literally thought you were dating him last semester, so it was totally crazy to hear you asked Mark out.â He scratches the back of his neck. âLike⌠you asked him out. Not even the other way around. Thatâs ridiculous.â
âWhy?â You know he doesnât mean anything bad by it; Donghyuck has next to no filter, and something about him being unable to process your relationship is honestly a little funny. âA girl canât ask a guy out?â
(You try not to think too hard about the fact that up until youâd cornered him in Younghoâs room, you had been praying to whatever god could hear you to convince Mark Lee to do the romanticist thing and ask you out.)
âNah, dude. Like⌠a girl like you asked a guy like him out.â
âI didnât ask him out because he was a guy like that,â you say pointedly. âI asked him out because he was a guy I liked. I wouldnât have asked anyone else out if it werenât him.â
Donghyuck falls quiet for a while, and only the crunching of the leaves underfoot accompanies your walk. âYou really like him that much, huh?â
âIâm crazy about him.â His nose scrunches up like heâs been hit with a horrible smell, and you laugh. âCan you stop giving him a hard time? Or tone it down? I know you probably donât like itââ
Donghyuckâs chuckle is light and easy. âIâm not teasing him because I hate it; letâs be clear on that. I actually really like that you guys are together. Iâve never seen him this happy with anything or anyone.â
âThen why are youââ
âBecause heâs Mark.â A devilish grin creeps up his features as he holds the door to the dorm lobby open for you. âAnd teasing him is my favorite thing to do.â
You shake your head; you canât help your amusement, but youâre not sure you fully understand this kind of friendship. You suppose if Mark is okay with it in its totality, then there isnât much you can say to change it either.
The next twenty minutes pass in comfortable back-and-forths; Donghyuck is, as you already have learned, an expert conversationalist, and while he doesnât aggravate you the way he does Chenle, he does manage to navigate a quick-fire kind of exchange of thoughts and information that allows you to see the speed at which he thinks. Thereâs barely any lag between when he digests what you say and when he responds. You suppose thereâs a measure of wit in that, but itâs also a little bemusing to see someone speak without at least running it through the conscience checker every once in a while. You decide youâve never met anyone quite like Lee Donghyuck before.
Heâs in the middle of asking you what the Anthropology professor is like because heâs planning on taking it as an elective if he can when you notice a familiar figure pushing into the lobby, backpack swinging on a folded elbow.
âMark!â The brief confusion on his face morphs into a surprised joy when he spots you on the couch, even though a bit of it lingers upon recognizing that Donghyuck is seated next to you. He walks over in long strides, and your posture straightens to meet his palm as it comes down gently against the crown of your head again; it bumps lightly, causing the both of you to laugh.
âHey, you.â His voice is warm and fond in its greeting, and you beam up at him. âDid you have a busy afternoon?â
âUnfortunately. Did you just get back from your shift?â
âI passed by the co-op to check out the new university letter jackets. Designâs pretty dope.â He nods towards the elevator. âYou wanna head up for a little bit?â You almost get to respond before your companion cuts in instead.
âHey. Canât you see weâre having a riveting conversation over here?â Donghyuck sniffs, making a show of hitting Markâs shin lightly with the heel of his shoe. âHave some respect.â
âIs the conversation so riveting that I canât take my girl for the evening at all?â
You mouth out a no, but Donghyuckâs flair for dramatics has him humphing and shoving Markâs hand away from your hair. âYeah, man. At least let us finish up.â
âWhatâs this even about?â
âHow Jung Jaehyun asked her out in the library today,â Donghyuck replies easily. You start, shaking your head immediately, but Markâs jaw slackens a little upon hearing this. Donghyuck continues loudly over your protests, and you canât keep your voice straight because youâre adamant and yet, somehow, still laughing incredulously in your shock. âOh, dude, let me tell you. He had his arm around her like this â and he was giving her the bedroom eyes⌠I wouldnât have blamed her if she folded, honestly.â
âMark, no,â your stupid gasp comes out as half a giggle as a result of Donghyuck trying to reenact his imaginary scenario. Heâs slung his arm across your shoulders and pulled himself in, doing his best expression of a pleading dogâs gaze, which is both perplexing and hilarious. âHeâs just kiddingââ
âThen he got all close like thisââ Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, and the view he allows himself blocks him from having to look at Mark. You, on the other hand, are still trying to resist a misunderstanding, your palms up and every part of your body that can move shaking vehemently, but you can see Markâs face turn a violent shade of red you canât remember having seen from him before. âSpoke all low â you remember he had that sexy, husky voice, right? â
âHeâs just messing with you,â you wheeze out, trying to extract yourself from Donghyuckâs hold, but he only tightens his arm around your neck, almost to the point where you canât inhale properly.
âAnd he said âyouâre the hottest chick Iâve ever seenââ then you know what he did, Markie?â
Mark doesnât respond; youâre not even sure if he can, considering his Adamâs apple is bobbing dangerously like heâs one misstep away from exploding. You laugh again, stupidly, because you donât know what else to do; you know Donghyuckâs teasing him, and you know Mark usually takes it in stride, but youâve also never seen the latter look so focused on anything that didnât involve a math problem or eating you out. âNo, really, nothing hapââ
You donât even have the space to finish your sentence. Donghyuckâs too quick when he grabs your face and plants a comedically sloppy kiss on your cheek, bursting out in laughter when he pulls away. You can only sit there, probably as stunned as Mark looks, raising your hand slowly to wipe the spittle Donghyuck left behind in his wake.
âOh, Jesus,â Donghyuck rasps out between snorts. âYour face is priceless, man.â
âNot funny,â Mark grumbles, and thereâs a hoarseness to his voice that makes you feel like itâs barely controlled.
âAlso not true. I just bumped into her on the way from the library. We were talking about one of her classes or whatever.â Donghyuck dramatically wipes the tears from his eyes, and you sigh, nudging him. âSorry, sorry. I couldnât resist. Man, donât even worry. Sheâs downright crazy about you. Even if Jung Jaehyun had asked her outââ
âAnyway.â Mark reaches down, lacing your fingers together, pulling you up and closer to his side like heâs worried youâll catch Donghyuckâs crazy. âIf thatâs all of itâŚâ
âYeah, yeah. You two lovebirds go moon over each other already. I just love seeing your face like that.â
Mark snorts, yanking on Donghyuckâs earlobe punitively, and the latter cries out sharply (and a little exaggeratedly) at the pain. Mark doesnât even seem to care; he leads you to the elevator and punches in his floor. You barely have time to call out a belated âbyeâ to Donghyuck, who acknowledges it with a raise of his palm, before the doors slide shut.
Itâs a slow elevator, given that itâs an old building, and the first couple of floors pass without much noise between the two of you. Youâre not unaware of how tight Markâs grip is on your hand, but you donât comment nor take it against him. By the fourth floor, youâre raising his hand up to your lips and pressing a kiss against his knuckles.
âNothing happened.â You confirm his unasked question, and you see a modicum of tension leave his shoulders. âHe was just messing with you because he thinks itâs funny.â
âYeah, I know.â Even if he says it like that, thereâs still lingering doubt in his voice. âWere you with Jung Jaehyun today, though? Is that why you didnât show up?â
You nod. âHe was copying my notes for Anthropology. Guy barely shows up to lectures, so he borrows my stuff. I canât believe he hasnât been suspended yet. Or punched in the face by the people he leeches off of.â
âNo kidding.â
You step out on the sixth floor with him. Even if you already know where Markâs dorm is, you let him lead the way, and he ushers you into an empty and dimly lit living space while taking his shoes off. His roommate barely seems to be around; youâve seen him all of two times, and it doesnât look like heâs here either right now. You pause anyway, listening to any signs of life just to be sure, but when you both confirm that thereâs no one but the two of you, you busy yourselves with turning on the lights and plugging in the water dispenser.
You work in relative silence; it isnât anything unusual since youâve done this a million times, and youâve come to learn that small talk isnât necessary when youâre just washing your hands or opening the refrigerator aimlessly even if you know you both plan on ordering in. But thereâs a weird aura around Mark that youâre not sure how to place; he doesnât seem like heâs mad, but there definitely seems to be something off â a problem, at least, that youâre not sure you know how to ask about.
So you just try to diffuse whatever it is by completely ignoring it.
âPizza or Chinese?â You ask, flopping onto the couch as he plugs the television into the outlet. He looks up at you, and you notice his eyes are slightly dazed, like youâve just woken him up from a dream. âYou okay?â
âYeah.â His voice is hoarse the first time he says it, so he clears his throat and tries again. âYeah, sorry.â
âWhatâs on your mind?â
âWe just had pizza, so Iâm thinking Chinese is the better option. Cream shrimp? Fried rice? Not the salted fish one, though, maybe.â
You hum in assent, but when he straightens up from behind the television, you extend your arm to him, attempting to clarify yourself. âI mean, what are you thinking so hard about?â
âNothing.â His answerâs a little too quick. A moment of awkward silence passes where you telepathically tell him you know heâs lying and he has to come to terms with his horrible lying skills, and he sighs, crossing over to the couch and settling beside you. Immediately, he tangles your fingers together, belatedly returning the favor from the elevator and brushing his lips across your knuckles. âHe didnât ask you out, right?â
You know he knows the truth, so you decide to bat your own question back at him in an attempt at rhetoric. âWhat would it matter if he did? The answer would have been the same, real or imagined.â
Mark pinches the bridge of his nose, inhaling slowly. Thereâs a red flush on his neck thatâs only started fading, it seems. You reach out and skim your finger along the vein that runs down the side of his throat. âI know. I donât like it all the same. I hate⌠even thinking about it, actually.â
âReally â nothing happened. If you donât count the fact that I almost strangled him for keeping me there â which Iâm sure youâd agree doesnât count as anything in favor of him.â
âI heard Jung Jaehyunâs kind of a playboy.â
âWhat does that have to do with me?â
âNothing. I donât know.â His head lolls to the side, and his eyes hold a sadness that pulls at your heart. âIt means he really could have made a pass at you. Or you could have â I donât know. In the end⌠I just worry.â
âDonât you trust me?â Your lower lip juts out, and his eyes widen slightly, his head shaking before his mouth can even work out a proper response.
âNo â I mean, yes, absolutely. Itâs â I mean, itâs justââ He inhales again to gather his wits, two fingers still rubbing his forehead. âI trust you, without a doubt. I donât trust other people â not around you. Not Jaehyun, or Youngho, orââ
âOr Donghyuck?â You smile a little apologetically at his embarrassment, clear on his face when his eyes stray from yours. âMark, you know heâs only messing with you, right? I thought it was a funny thing for you guys.â
âItâs not funny if itâs about you,â he mumbles, more to himself than to you. He looks up at you again, chewing on his bottom lip. âI know. Iâm trying to control it. Sometimes⌠I donât know why it gets under my skin. I guess itâs because it could happen â you⌠finding someone else. I kind of hate the thought of that.â
âAnd if I said I hate it even more than you?â
His gaze softens, something like relief passing over his features, but the rest of his body still holds a significant amount of tension; you know by the way heâs running agitated circles on the back of your hand. You gently tug on his arm, allowing yourself to use it as an anchor to shift your weight. Mark makes a soft noise of inquiry but says nothing more, waiting until youâve maneuvered your body to settle on his lap.
The view is reminiscent, and you can see that the core memory you share flashes through his mind too. A small smile, still somewhat reluctant, plays on Markâs lips, and you hate that itâs all you get right now, so you rectify this by leaning down and leaving a small, chaste kiss on them. You pull away much too soon, and his head follows in response to the distance, chasing your lips until youâre realistically too far to reach. His arm extends instead, swiftly tucking your hair behind your ear.
Your fingers close around his wrist, and your head turns, continuing the kiss against his palm â short and firm.
âStop doing that.â
His eyebrows fly upward in questioning, his other hand freezing in its trail up your thighs. Even his breath seems to catch, and whatâs left of it comes out as a raspy whisper. âStop being jealous? Iâm⌠Iâm trying.â
You shake your head. âStop being sexy when youâre jealous.â
The âwhatâ he seems to want to ask dies in his throat, his mouth only able to form half of the word before you interrupt, your lips taking in the rest of the syllable. When you kiss him this time, thereâs a slow hunger to it; your teeth find his lower lip even before heâs able to get into the rhythm of kissing you back. You just want him to know â everything about him drives you wild, even when he doesnât know it.
Youâll never grow sick of the taste of him, youâre sure; today, he tastes even more enticing, the hint of something rich mixing in with the stronger flavor of coffee on his tongue. Itâs familiar and comforting, and itâs only when you break away, both your faces flushed from a prolonged lack of air, that you puzzle out what the taste is â the lingering aftermath of a vanilla sweet cream cold brew, one he must have prepared in anticipation of you this afternoon.
You briefly squeeze your eyes shut and thank whoeverâs listening for the gift of Mark Lee.
âMark,â your murmur, your voice much softer, intent on coaxing him into releasing his worries. âYou know, right?â
His âhmâ is only half-there in focus, the rest of his attention on his hands, which have found their way to your ass and have started digging his fingers into the flesh beyond your jeans. You have to tilt his head up with one finger under his chin, and thereâs a whirlpool of emotion in them: curiosity, desire, and, interestingly, a quiet, almost suppressed kind of anger.
âIf it isnât you,â you whisper. âThen thereâs nobody else.â
You see his jaw tighten, feel his grip against you do the same, and his brow furrows, like heâs trying â much too hard, and for no good reason â to stop himself from tipping over. You donât like that either; if heâs there, you think, you should take him over the edge.
âBut if you want them to know so badly, thenâŚâ You tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, bringing the expanse just a little closer to his mouth. âWhy donât you go ahead and put your claim on me?â
You swear you see his pupils dilate right before he presses his mouth to your skin. With a low, almost pained groan against your neck, he latches his teeth in lightly, and you feel the soft sting, the increase in pressure the moment he starts sucking a mark just above your collarbone. Thereâs a wet, messy pattern to his movements, always punctuated by the sweep of his tongue to soothe your flesh. Even with that, his movements are slow and careful, still gentle in the way heâs handling you, but you feel it anyway â all of his tensionâs concentrated in his grip, the way he keeps you close, hips pinned against him as if heâs worried anything less will cause you to disappear.
âEvery time you worry, remember you can do this.â You pause, your breath catching in a lilt as his teeth dig in a little more fiercely. âYouâre the only one that can.â
His lips detach with a soft groan, fingers squeezing your ass tight for a moment. Warm breath cools against the damp patch on your neck, and a second later, you feel his mouth graze against the few inches of skin, sensitive and slightly raw. âI know. Itâs just not fair.â
You hum in questioning, but he doesnât answer immediately; his mouth busies itself just under the mark heâd surely left, already starting up the same routine. Youâd let him, and you want him to, but you want to hear his voice more. Your fingers tangle into his hair, and you use that hold to ease his head back, urging him to look up at you. Itâs almost a mistake, seeing him like that â lips slightly swollen and definitely slick with his own saliva, parted just a little to reveal teeth heâd been desperate to nip your flesh with again. It crosses your mind that Mark has a mouth made for kissing â no, that isnât accurate.
A mouth made for you to kiss.
âWhatâs not fair?â You ask softly. Even now, he takes his time in answering, his eyes falling close for a second; you watch him swallow, lick his lips, breathe in before he speaks, and all of those mundane things he does somehow make you lose your mind all the more.
âHow badly I keep wanting you,â he breathes out, his eyes slowly opening. âAnd how it makes me think everyone wants you just as much.â
His hands leave the curve of your ass, traveling up your shirt, resting against your sides. He holds you like heâs careful in trying not to break you, his fingers spread wide to make sure his thumbs almost meet against your stomach, but thereâs a smoldering headiness in his gaze that tells you heâs thinking a little too hard about wanting to break you.
âI touch you like this, and I think that everyone would kill to do the same.â His fingers squeeze against your flesh, inching upwards until they rest just under your breasts; his thumbs stroke the curved underline of your bra. âI think about kissing you and it feels like everyoneâs thinking it at the exact same time. I look at someone next to you, even if you donât know them, and I wonder if they want to pull you close, if they want to feel you against them just as much as I do. When Iââ
He inhales sharply between his words, and the exhale comes out somewhat shaky. For a moment, he grits his teeth, jaw flexing in an attempt to keep himself in check. You worry he doesnât want to continue â doesnât want to let you hear it, but it feels so important that you canât let it go. âTell me.â
âWhen I think about fucking you,â he breathes out, voice barely audible. âWhenever I look at you and think about how much I want to feel you around me, feel you cum around me⌠I just know everyone else wants the same thing, and itâs driving me crazy because⌠because they canât.â
Itâs there again, flashing in his eyes â a determination that reads almost like fury.
âThey canât,â he repeats, his voice firmer. âI wonât ever let them. Never.â
You donât stop him this time when his mouth reclaims your skin. You let his thoughts fuel the need in his movements, allow yourself to move only in reaction to what he does â the tilting of your head to give him more room, the tightening of your fists against his shirt to keep yourself steady. A surprised mewl leaves you when you feel his teeth pinch against your flesh again, and itâs harder, sharper this time, his quiet anger finally dictating his strength. You grapple for words, but they come out in weak gasps.
âIt doesnât â doesnât matter,â you manage to whimper out. âHow many people think that way, how much they want me that way. I only ever want you.â
His breathing is caught, warm, in the pocket of space just between you and his mouth; it tingles against your skin, tickles your senses into heightening. Your fingers unfurl, pressing against his chest, and you can feel his quickened heartbeat thrumming under your palm.
âGod, please,â he murmurs, the soft peck of a kiss landing against your collarbone. âPlease, tell me.â
âMark, Iâm yours.â Thereâs no teasing in how you say it; it was never meant to rile him up. It even escapes sweetness, the romanticism it usually comes with when you remind him on any other occasion. This is a promise to him, something youâre reinforcing as fact, something that canât ever change. âIâm always going to be yours â no one elseâs. Iâll never let anyone have anything thatâs yours. Ask anything, take everything you want. Iâll never say no to you. Only you â always you.â
You know somethingâs different in a number of ways; his arms circle around you, but instead of keeping you firm and stable in his lap, theyâre tight, squeezing a whine out of you, holding your torso flush against his. His face never leaves the crook of your neck, but you hear â feel â something there â a soft growl of need, of frustration that begs release. Suddenly, you find yourself off the couch; you barely have the presence of mind to wrap your arms around his neck and tighten your thighs against his sides before heâs carrying you to his room, kicking the door open and letting the rebound of the impact against his wall slam it shut behind him.
Youâve been in Markâs room before, so thereâs absolutely no need for you to take in the scenery when he sets you down on his bed. It doesnât matter anyway, even if this were your first time; Markâs crawling over you, his face flush and eyes sharp with hunger, and he looks so enticing that you wouldnât want to pay attention to anything else around you anyway. His limbs cage you in, arms on either side of your shoulders and his knees just by your thighs, and you donât really know why heâs already panting, but it just makes you want him all the more.
âNever,â he groans out, leaning down to nose against the patch of skin his mouth had worked on. âIâm never going to let anyone take you, ever. Youâre all mine.â
His name fades on your lips, carried away by a moan when his mouth reattaches itself to your neck; it moves, almost frenzied, to renew the mark heâd left, make it a deeper red, a slightly bruised purple. Youâre usually careful not to do anything that will require any attention or cover-up after, but Mark seems a little too far gone to care, and you realize you like him best this way.
Even with all the attention he gives your neck, his fingers are busy; they work on the button of your jeans, sliding them down with the help you offer by raising your hips. They only reach halfway down your thighs, his reluctance to come back up for air stopping him from peeling them off completely, but itâs all he seems to need for now.
Eager fingers ease between your thighs, two at once, pressing against your folds. Youâre unable to spread your legs like you usually do, but this tightness makes you all the more sensitive, and you keen as his digits fit themselves into your slit. Frustratingly, they donât move right away, and you have to raise your hips again just to get some sort of friction. Even then, Mark doesnât take the hint â or, perhaps, the bait â keeping a light pressure against your clit without doing anything else. His focus is still on your neck, now slightly aching under his lips, and when he finally pulls away, you see a look of triumph on his face. He tilts his head back slightly to admire his work â the blooming dark patch youâre sure heâs left where your skin tingles the most.
âIf I said I wanted to mark you all over, would you let me?â
âWhat makes you think I wouldnât ask for it?â
He chuckles, tightening the pressure of his fingers against your clit; you say something that sounds halfway between âMarkâ and a sob.
âI want to, so badly.â He admits, gaze still fixed on your neck. âIâd want to see you walk out of here, walk into class covered in them. Iâd want people to ask you how you got them, and who gave them to you. And Iâd want you to say it proudly â that it was me who did it. That I fucked you all night and made you mine over and over again.â
âWhy donât you?â His eyes snap up to you, a small smile forming on his lips. âI want to say that too. Let me brag about having you. Let me tell everyone how good you always make me feel. Then you can tell everyone who doesnât believe you, too â how I let you take me every single time. Show me off and tell them to look at how you made me yours.â
Another laugh escapes him, but thereâs more disbelief than humor in it; he seems to find it amazing, that you can just agree with what he says, no matter how strange he thinks it is.
âShow you off? If I mark you in other places, do I have to show them every part?â
âDo you not want to?â
âI want to, and I donât.â He pauses, slightly amused, and you know heâs remembering the first time you fucked. âI donât them to see your body, but I want them to see what I did to it. I donât want them to look at whatâs mine, but I just want them to know it is.â
âThen you can fuck me in front of everyone and make them watch you ruin me completely.â
He shakes his head, even if desire flashes clear across his features. He busies himself with actions while he mulls it over, tugging your jeans down alongside your panties and casting them aside before he straightens up. His eyes rake over your form; youâre bare from the waist down, your shirt halfway ridden up, the underside of your bra peeking out from under the hem. Again, his eyes land on your neck, and his smile widens slightly.
âCanât.â He decides finally. âYouâre too pretty for that.â
You hum thoughtfully, and he raises his eyebrows. He doesnât move, even when you sit up, shifting yourself so you can tuck your calves under your thighs â not even when you reach out to undo his belt or tug down his zipper. He only reacts a little when your hand presses against his hardness through his boxers, the girth now easily familiar to your palm.
âWhat about something like this?â You ask, inching closer to the edge of the bed. Youâve started slow strokes against him, the fabric creating extra friction, more heat under your palm, and you watch his jaw clench as he swallows back a soft grunt. âWould you let them watch me do this for you?â
âLet me think about it,â he chuckles softly, and you nod, letting your fingers work to make your point. You donât have to undress him completely to get what you want; all you need is to tug down the front of his boxers to free him, and you already have him wrapped in your palms, stroking his shaft to full hardness.
âThink faster,â you urge, and he shakes his head, slightly bemused. âAre you telling me you wouldnât even want them to watch me jerk you off?â
âAt least give me a full minute.â
You laugh lightly, whispering a âfineâ before you press a soft kiss against tip. He inhales sharp through his teeth, already sensitive, and you waste no time in letting your tongue flick out against the smooth head. He doesnât need the lubrication, realistically; his precumâs already leaking from the tip, mixing in with your saliva as you run your tongue around it. All you do is make him a little messier, a little slicker, your spittle running down his length.
Taking Mark in your mouth is a demanding task, but one youâre always up for; thereâs something uniquely satisfying about letting him fill your mouth, inch by inch, and watching his breathing hitch and stutter until your lips are closer to the base than to the head. What you canât reach, your hand always squeezes around, eager to make sure he feels good completely. His expression is sublime when you draw your head back the first time, sucking as you do so â his eyes are half-lidded, and he doesnât stop the moan that falls from his lips. His gaze is fixed on you, hazy but still able to drink the sight of you in, and youâre not sure how, but you almost feel like you could get off to watching him watch you taste him.
You try, somehow, vaguely conscious of the movement of your hips; youâre grinding at nothing at first, so your knees give way just enough for you to press yourself against his sheets. Itâs slightly uncomfortable, a strain in your thighs that youâre not really used to, but you donât care; Markâs sharp inhale at seeing you attempt to grind your pussy against his mattress is pretty much as arousing as anything else. His cock twitches hard in your mouth, and you suck just a little harder, a little messier, your head bobbing down to meet your hand, still firmly wrapped around his girth.
The roomâs filled with nothing but slick sounds and soft groans; Markâs hand has found its way into your hair, tangled into a makeshift ponytail, and while he isnât guiding your mouth to do anything, you can feel his hips stutter then start to move, pulling back when your head does. He tries to hide it, tries to keep himself steady, but pride blooms in your chest when you note that he canât; he wants to feel like heâs fucking into your mouth, into your hand, the way he does when he takes your pussy.
Itâs relatively quiet for that time, nothing but muffled moans from you that mix in with his noises, but you only realize youâd been waiting for an answer to something when he speaks up again.
âItâs⌠still a no for me.â
Your movements slow, your gaze lifting to communicate your mild confusion to him. You donât want to ask; you just donât want to lose the taste of him on your tongue just yet. He looks down at you, smiling with overflowing tenderness, almost like heâs apologetic.
âEven just this â youâre too pretty when you do it.â His hand reaches down, thumb stroking over your cheek. âI canât let anyone see what you look like when youâre like this. Theyâll keep thinking about you doing it for them. And youâd only do it for me â right?â
You nod immediately, your response causing your mouth to slip down his shaft just a little more. It elicits a guttural noise from him, one that fuels you into sucking him just a little harder, your enthusiasm overtaking your restraint. His fingers have let go of your hair, stroking it back into smoothness, almost comforting in their movements.
âGod, I wish you could see yourself; youâd know what I mean,â he continues to murmur, his voice just a little louder over the eager, wet noises youâre making. âHow pretty you look with your mouth wrapped around me. How perfect you are when youâre kneeling like this for me â how happy you look when youâre sucking me off. I canât share that with anyone. Fuck â not ever.â
Your mouth draws back, completely this time, and your tongue presses against the underside of his cock. You lick a long stripe up his shaft, moaning softly at the light throb you feel, and you watch him tip his head back. The groan that follows soon after is almost close to a frustrated growl, ending in a whispered âshitâ before his eyes land back on you. He watches you press kiss after kiss against his tip, coaxing the precum out even more, and you take special care to leave more down each inch of his cock until youâre finally able to release your hold on his base so you can leave the last one there.
His hand combs your hair back before it falls to cup your chin, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to gently clean up the froth of spittle there. You smile up at him in thanks, and his thumb sweeps over the seam of your lips to follow the slight curve.
âSo pretty,â he repeats, and your cheeks glow pink under the palms that caress them. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. âPretty as hell, fucking perfect â and youâre all mine.â
You kneel up again, chasing his lips with your own, and he locks you in his arms as his tongue slips its way past your teeth, the aroma of coffee still on it. He leaves todayâs taste of him against your tongue, on the ridges of your teeth, until you feel like youâve all but consumed him, and you whimper softly when he pulls away, urging you to turn around and lean back into his chest.
His mouth reattaches itself to the same spot; itâs like a home base for him, and he breathes in your scent from there before giving the same patch of skin a light suck, almost as if heâs worried itâll fade in a few minutesâ time if he doesnât give it attention.
âShow me.â Hands slide down to your hips, squeezing them lightly, like a prompt for your response. âShow me how pretty you are for me.â
His palms never leave you, not even when you detach yourself from his chest and bend down; your elbows meet the mattress, but your hips stay raised, giving him a view of your pussy. Your gasp easily turns into a moan when his digit dips into your wetness again, his other hand pushing gently at your asscheek to keep you open.
You think heâs about to slip his finger in, the tip brushing against your entrance, and you tense in anticipation, but it doesnât happen; he continues to run his finger down your slit, careful not to linger against your clit for too long. The result is that you tighten around nothing, and you hear him suck in a breath as he watches your hole grow smaller for a second. You laugh breathily, resting your chin against the backs of your hands, one folded atop the other. âPretty enough for you to fuck?â
âDo you have to ask if you already know?â
âI want to hear it anyway.â
His finger slips into your hole, finally, and you keen softly as he breaches the first ring of tightness. He doesnât really move it, just tests your tightness, feels you contract around him as if to know what his cock will feel in a few moments.
âYour pussyâs too pretty not to fuck,â he manages out, and his throat sounds as tight as you feel. âSeeing it like this⌠makes me think thereâs no way anyone can resist. Itâs exactly why I canât let anyone see you like this.â
You hum as his finger presses in deeper, and you know itâs nothing in comparison to the real thing, but you like feeling that mild stretch, the depth it reaches all the same. âHow should we let them know, then? That Iâm all yours.â
His finger stills, and you hum softly, swaying your hips to shake him out of whatever trance heâs in. Heâs grown quiet, but thereâs a thoughtfulness in this pause, like heâs seriously considering your question. You laugh lightly, ready to tell him youâre just egging him on until he fucks you, but he slips his finger out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing again. You canât help the confused noise that comes out of you, but you at least know he isnât completely backing away, his other hand still firmly on your ass.
âMark, whatââ
You get your answer in the thud that interrupts your question â heâs tossed his phone onto the bed, having it land next to you. Something in your blood runs hot, and your fingers tremble when you pick it up. You see yourself reflected in the blackened screen â excitement in your eyes, your lips glossy from your blowjob.
Markâs silent as you let the meaning of his actions settle; wordlessly, he slips his finger into you again, followed by another one this time, and you shudder in pleasure at the difference in the stretch. He doesnât ask, but you can tell heâs wondering if heâs gone too farâ if you think heâs crazy. He lets his fingers stay anchored in you, unmoving, waiting for you to say something, but from where he is, he just canât know the smile that passes your face.
Finally, he tries to speak up. âWe donât have toâ I just meantââ
âWhatâs your passcode?â
He breathes out, the exhale quivering as much as you probably are. âYour birthday.â
Your smile only widens when you tap the screen to life and see a picture of you â you donât even remember when heâd taken it, but itâs a shot of you sprawled on his bed, bundled in his blanket and reading something that looks oddly like your textbook for your European Renaissance History class. Itâs grainy and dimly lit, a stolen photograph of you, but it makes your heart swell, and you laugh lightly as you key in your birthday; the screen unlocks, allowing you access to all his applications.
âWhatâs funny?â
âJust thinking about how you should replace this wallpaper.â
âTo what?â He sounds bemused.
âThe view of me you have now.â
His fingers curl in you, pressing down against your walls, and you push your hips back in a bid for more friction; you hear him hiss out a âfuckâ under his breath, and his hand digs harder into the flesh of your ass.
You open Markâs contacts, scrolling down aimlessly. Most of the names, you donât recognize, but you see a few familiar ones crop up here and there. He doesnât ask, only starts pumping his fingers into you in quiet anticipation, wondering how far youâre willing to take it, how much youâve bought into this crazy idea.
âMark,â you call out, and he hums in response. âYou trust me, donât you?â
âWith my life.â
âSo if I called Donghyuck right nowââ His fingers hook into you, the delicious pressure on your walls making you squeak instead of finish your sentence immediately. You twist your torso to meet his eyes, and youâre slightly surprised but not at all displeased to see something crazed lingering in his gaze. âHow much of a show would you want to put on for him?â
He shifts his weight, his knee sinking into the mattress as he slots it between your legs. This change in position allows him to angle his fingers a little differently, driving down into you with a force that makes you squirm. You almost forget youâve asked him something again until he leans in closer, his murmur almost drowned out by the slick sounds of his finger pressing into your hole.
âJust⌠enough for him to know youâve always been mine.â
Your thumbs are shaking when you scroll through his contacts again, up and down until you find the right name â Lee Donghyuck â and Mark watches you intently, wordlessly, as you press his number, start the call, and put it on speaker.
The wait feels like an eternity, with Markâs finger slipping in and out of you in a steady, languid pace as you watch the line connect, but in reality, Donghyuck really only answers after the fourth ring. âYo, Mark.â
His voice is casual, lacking in any sort of expectation; you can hear explosions and gunshots in the background, and youâre willing to bet heâs in the middle of an action movie. Youâre proven right when you hear random English babbling soon after.
âHi, Hyuck.â
â___________?â He sounds genuinely confused that itâs you that greets him. âWhereâs Mark? You okay?â
âHeâs right here with me; donât worry.â Your voice is a soft croon, and he has to lower the volume of the television to be able to hear you better. âWeâre totally fine. What are you up to?â
âWatching Resident Evil. Uh, is there a reason you called?â
You want to draw out the lie of something casual for as long as you can, but Mark doesnât let you. His fingers push, suddenly forceful, into you, and you let out a soft cry into the receiver. You look back at him, eyes wide with amusement, and he shrugs, having at least enough sense to look slightly abashed at his experiment.
One moment, youâre listening to a female voice shout something, and the next, Donghyuckâs side of the call is silent except for his breathing. When you donât bother explaining what had just happened, he takes matters into his own hands.
âHello?â
He sounds equal parts affronted and amused, like the shock of it has tickled him. You canât help it; you laugh too, but itâs quickly cut off by another whine when Mark pulls his fingers out. Donghyuck makes an incredulous noise.
âNow, what the fuck is all this about, you freaks?â
âYou kept wondering why I ended up asking Mark out,â you evade his question with another one. âShould I tell you why, if youâre that curious?â
âNo way. Have fun, weirdos,â he laughs, and the line goes dead a second after.
You snort out a laugh, and Mark mumbles something that sounds vaguely like that was crazy before he leans down and presses a kiss to the small of your back. You make to turn so you can finally face him, but youâre distracted when his phone screen lights up again, and Donghyuckâs name flashes across it.
You exchange amused glances before you pick up the call, and you donât even get a âhelloâ out when his voice rings out, sharp and clear.
âBut pretending I am,â he says, as though he hadnât hung up the call a few seconds ago. âExactly what kind of answer would I get?â
âThe kind thatâll hopefully shut you up for good,â Mark pipes in instead of you.
âWhatâs that even going to sound like?â Already, Donghyuckâs activated whatever toggle in him that gets him to push Markâs buttons. This time, though, you canât say it works against you; you feel Mark inch closer to you, and a moment later, the fat tip of his cock nudges against your entrance. âI bet you canât even get her to yawn, man.â
Mark doesnât have to respond; you do it for him when he pushes in, torturously slow, as if to draw out your moan. It works a little too well, with you keening into the phone, and yet no part of you is acting for his sake. As familiar as the stretch is, itâs not something youâve ever been able to commit to memory fully, and it feels like a new breaching of your tightness each time. Your legs fold in slightly, a useless movement that attempts to get you adjusted to his size faster, but Mark interprets it as discomfort, his hands tightening on your hips.
âYou okay?â He sounds genuinely worried for a second, forgetting that Donghyuckâs still on the line. Your cheek brushes against his sheets as you nod, trying to meet his eye even in this position to let him know youâre being honest.
âFucking big, Mark.â You hear Donghyuck tsk from his end, and you laugh breathlessly. âYou donât like knowing heâs big?â
âI just hate that fucker,â Donghyuck quips back easily, but thereâs no seriousness in his voice. If anything, it sounds a little raspy, with him clearing his throat soon afterward.
âWell, Iâm crazy about him,â you whisper into the call, and your breathing hitches as Mark finally bottoms out, groaning at your tightness. âIâm crazy about the way he touches me, the way he tastes. Iâm crazy about how big his cock is, how deep it gets when heâs inside me, how he stretches me out â fuckââ
Your verbal rampage is cut short by a loud moan as Mark draws his hips back and pushes forcefully into you; you havenât fully adjusted, and youâre even tighter now from what youâre saying, so the friction inside you is nothing short of delicious. He starts a pattern of thrusts, not bothering to build up from his usual slow and steady pace â hearing you talk that way and knowing that Donghyuck is listening is enough to get him to abandon self-imposed restrictions.
âMark,â you whine out, accidentally pushing the phone a little further away as you reach out blindly for him behind you, and he catches your wrist to let you know heâs there. âMark, fuck, it feels so goodââ
You tighten around him as if to prove your words, and he growls in response. You find yourself having to press your cheek in a little harder into the mattress as he gathers your wrists together into one hand, pinning them to your lower back, and itâs with that hold on you that he leverages his thrusts, pumping into you a little harder each time.
Youâre not completely unaware of your surroundings, but it takes a while for you to process the sounds coming from the phoneâs speaker â labored breathing, the sound of a zipper being pulled down. You want to wonder if this is working a little too well, but nothing comes from your mouth apart from soft whimpers, and itâs all the cue Mark needs to be the one to fill in the relative silence himself.
âYouâre so fucking pretty,â he whispers, and you feel his lips press between your shoulder blades. It feels like a chaste kiss at first, but he leaves his breath there, still flitting over your skin as he continues to speak. âIâll never get tired of how pretty you are â how pretty you always sound for me. Doesnât she sound pretty, Hyuck?â
âFucking pretty,â Donghyuck agrees, though his voice sounds somewhat distant. You can only sob back a quiet âfuck me, harder, harder,â in response.
âCan you imagine how much prettier she looks under me?â Itâs almost a full-blown conversation now, but even if Markâs addressing Donghyuck, the rest of his attentionâs fully on you. He adjusts his stance, still keeping his hold around your wrists as he angles himself deeper into you, causing you to cry out and squirm in pleasure. With your face pressed against the bed and his weight driving down into you, you feel utterly trapped, in the best kind of way. Mark, in the way he is now, is inescapable, almost incorrigible, and he pistons deeper into your pussy, his free hand brushing your hair away from your shoulder so he can leave a kiss against it. âBent over, legs spread just a little, all for me to take. Pretty little hole wet for me, and so fucking tight. Can you imagine that?â
âIâm doing it right now.â
âItâs a thousand times better in person. Trust me.â
The same hand slips between your thighs, two fingers spreading your folds apart; the middle one circles your clit in a pace that matches his thrusts, sudden and shocking, and you arch your back upwards slightly with a choked noise. He finally releases your wrists, and you claw at the sheets helplessly to keep yourself somehow upright as the force of Markâs hips, their impact against the backs of your thighs, pushes you forward, closer to the phone again. The stimulation is merciless, endless, and in the haze of your pleasure, you wonder if you should make Mark a little more jealous everyday if it gets him to act this way.
âMark, IâŚ. Iâve beenâ s-sinceââ
âNot yet,â he whispers, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as if to bring you back to reality. You shudder at the pain, the pleasure that accompanies it, and when you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, you notice that a few tears escape your eyes. âHold out for me a bit, okay? Please. Itâs not enough. Not yet enough.â
You wonder if âenoughâ is a concept the both of you even understand when it comes to wanting each other; already, you feel desire pooling in your stomach, threatening to spill from you, and clenching around him isnât helping you stop it the way your body seems to think itâs supposed to. It also doesnât help that Markâs fingers are relentless, one still drawing tight, heavy circles around your clit, and the other creeping up under your shirt to tug down the cup of your bra, letting a breast spill into his warm palm. He kneads with an unusual â but not unpleasant â roughness, and you squeak out incoherently as he tweaks at the hardened bud of your nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.
âHold on for me a little,â he continues murmuring, even after you shake your head and whisper âcanâtâ to him over and over. âDo it for me. Tell Donghyuck â tell him how good it feels. How much you want to keep feeling me inside you.â
You donât even know what to say; the pleasure that washes over you, the new kind of roughness that Mark exhibits has you drawing a blank, and you can only whine in a last attempt at protest, only for your tongue to start moving on autopilot, fueled by your want.
��Itâs not enough,â you echo â and even if it feels like it is, even if it feels even more than you can possibly handle, something tells you that itâs true. âNot enough â need to feel you more, Mark. God, I want to feel you stretch me out, fuck my little hole into the shape of your cockâ until no one else can fuck me but youââ
âWhat,â Donghyuck breathes out, his exhale coming across as static. âThe fuck.â
You donât have to explain; your babblingâs doing most of the work in that regard anyway, and you can tell by the wet, staccato noises on the other end that Donghyuck can easily piece together the scenario anyway. Heâs jacking off to the both of you, something in your mind whispers, and the notion of that alone has you tightening around Markâs cock. The change doesnât go unnoticed, and his fingers sink deeper into your flesh; you cry out softly when you feel a jolt of pleasure as he gives your clit a sudden pinch.
âHow much tighter can you get?â He sounds incredulous but also, interestingly, proud â thereâs a smug tinge to his voice that arouses you even more. âDoes it feel that good?â
âFuck, yes,â you breathe out, the syllables quivering in your throat. âSo good Iâm going to lose my mind. Let me â God, please, let meââ
âNot yet,â Mark mumbles, and you whimper as he slows and slips out of you, his hand gently rubbing your folds in what feels like comfort â a small apology for his overt enthusiasm that you donât even really need. âJust a little more. I need to see it.â
âSee what?â Donghyuckâs voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse and pretty much muffled by the sound of his hand pumping his own shaft. Your headâs light, so your body moves on its own when Mark inches away slightly, giving you room to turn yourself around and lay on your back. Youâve barely even settled when he lifts your hips, dragging you closer to him and easing your thighs apart to slot himself between your legs.
His cock weighs heavy, pressed up against your folds, and he pushes his hips in a superficial thrust to get them to spread. His eyes fall briefly on your swollen clit, the wetness that you left on his shaft, even more of it still leaking from your hole. When he looks back up at you, thereâs something triumphant in his gaze.
âFucking gorgeous,â he coos, so lovingly itâd be hard to imagine his cock still sliding against your folds if you couldnât feel it yourself. âIâll never get enough of your perfect pussy â so perfect that it was made to take me.â
âSee what?â Donghyuck presses, an impatience now coloring his voice. Mark chuckles, nodding at you and mouthing silently. Tell him.
Your inhaleâs shaky, quivering like the rest of your body, and you donât ever break away from Markâs gaze, even as you speak.
âHis cock fucking me in my stomach.â
Donghyuckâs âJesus fucking Christâ is drowned out by your cry of need as Mark pushes back into you. Thereâs no lag time now, no wait for any kind of adjustment; he takes you in one motion, until you feel his hips hit the backs of your thighs again. Your walls flutter around him, unable to process his size fully, and all that comes out of you is a string of messy mewls thatâs constantly interrupted by the wet sounds of his thrusts.
Your body feels almost weightless, the only thing you can understand being the feeling of his cock pumping into you, stretching you out further. Youâre only able to shake yourself out of the reverie when you feel his hands push back against your thighs, folding you in half, before they crowd atop your stomach.
âGod, I need to feel it,â he groans out, his palms skimming under your navel, searching. âPlease â do it for me.â
Even with your brain muddled, you donât even have to try to figure it out; you let him feel it every time he asks. You inhale, deep and slow, until your stomach sinks, and the walls of your stomach flatten against his cock, which pauses briefly in its movements as he revels in the newfound feeling.
âThatâs my girl,â he murmurs, and you flush in pleasure, in satisfaction at his praise. âLove seeing my cock inside you.â
He adjusts himself before he starts pumping into you again, burying his shaft all the way to the hilt each time; each thrust is followed by a soft sob from you, and you reach out, planting your hands on top of his. You obviously canât feel his cock under your palms, but you donât have to anyway; the fitâs tight enough that it feels, ridiculously, like heâs fucking your whole body, like heâs pressing into the deepest part of your core. You just want him to feel it more â the movement of the bulge under his hands, the resistance it has to push through to get to your stomach.
âLove feeling me inside you,â he continues, and his breathing stutters then, signaling that heâs also barely hanging on. âLove seeing how pretty you look when I rearrange your insides.â
You mouth out a disbelieving âwhat the fuckâ that earns you a simple smile, but Markâs unrelenting in his movements anyway, his palms completely covering your stomach.
âDude, I wanna see it too,â Donghyuck reminds you both of his presence when his voice comes through the speaker. âPut her on video.â
âNo way,â comes Markâs swift, firm reply. Donghyuck makes a noise of protest. âThis is just for me.â
âSelfish as hell, calling me without really sharing.â
âThe point wasnât really ever to share.â
Markâs hands suddenly press down on your stomach, and you stifle a soft scream; the pressure increases tenfold, as does the tightness of the fit, his cock brushing against your walls in a way that makes you feel breathless â it makes you feel used. Your hands fly up, fingers locking behind his neck, and you squirm under him, knowing fully well that you canât escape anyway â not that you really want to, anyway.
âMark,â you warn him again, your voice thin and airy. âI canât anymore â I reallyââ
âI got you,â he murmurs â something youâve come to learn he always says, always wants to let you know. Heâll be here until you break, until you canât take anymore. âOne second, okay?â
âBro, what? Are you seriousââ Even Donghyuck sounds confused, although his voice is tight too; he must be close, your mind weakly registers, but it doesnât matter. Mark, albeit reluctantly, slips one hand away from your stomach â for a good cause, he must think, and you learn what it is when he ends the call, effectively cutting off Donghyuckâs complaints. Your eyes widen in confusion, but all Markâs gaze is to you is reassuring, gentle, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he answers your unspoken question.
âCanât let him hear you cum,â he murmurs against your mouth. âThatâs only for me, isnât it?â
You nod, letting the movement of it brush your lips against his. âYouâre the only one Iâll cum for â the only one that can make me.â
Above your head, his phone is trilling noisily; the vibrations course through your back, weak but persistent, and for some reason, it heightens your arousal all the more. Mark ignores it completely, single-mindedly focused on pistoning into you with the bulk of his strength. His hands push down just under your navel, increasing your awareness of the feeling of his cock, him fucking you, coaxing out your climax.
âDo it. Show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.â
You donât think itâs possible for him to inject any more strength into his movements, but he proves you wrong time and time again; the windâs knocked out of you as he braces himself and fucks you harder, sharper into the bed, and the only noises you can make are weak whimpers and choked sobs. Your mindâs so overrun with pleasure that your climax hits your body first before your mind fully parses it; your back arches again, and you mewl out something broken, something that sounds like his name as you come undone.
Mark still doesnât relent, the tremble in your legs somehow only inspiring him to put more power in his thrusts. Even through the dazedness that comes with all the stimulation, you can see the fine details youâve come to know so well â the tightness in his jaw, the growing flush across his collar, the quick heaving of his chest. Heâs close too, so close heâs just holding himself back out of sheer force of will to make sure he can watch you come down from your climax completely. You donât know why he has to, but you want to see him let go too, and you scramble for words, for more touch â pressing your thighs firm against his sides to keep him close, locked â just to get him there.
âWill you mark me up one last time?â You breathe out. He reacts almost instantaneously, moving to lean down and press his mouth against the still-untouched side of your neck, but your palm on his chest stops him from doing so. Surprise crosses his face, followed by slight confusion. You squeeze your thighs against him, trying to make your point, but even then, his brow furrows. âMark me â inside.â
His eyes widen, and his hips stutter before they resume pace, his fingers digging into your stomach almost painfully as he tries to keep himself in control. âIâ no, you know I canâtâŚâ
âDo you want to?â You egg him on, your hand dropping from his chest to land on top of his again, adding to the pressure until youâre sure he can feel every small movement, every throb of his own cock inside you. âYou can, you know â make me yours, from the inside out.â
âGod â we canât; you know weâd be in so much trouble.â
âBut Iâd let you anyway, if you wanted to. Do you ever think about it, Mark?â Your fingers toy with his, almost like youâre having a casual conversation instead of a situation in which heâs deep inside you, already aching for release. âFucking your cum deep into me, letting it seep into my stomach â making sure no one else can fill me up?â
âJesus,â he growls, and he reluctantly slips his hands out from under yours to grip your thighs. Realistically, he has enough strength to peel them away, have you release him, but his hold just tightens, not really making any motion to do so. You see the thought flash in his eyes, serious even just for a moment. He thinks about it all the time.
âThink about it,â you urge, your voice soft but close to a demand. âAnd every time you do, remember one day, you will â because youâre the only one that can.â
He tilts his head back, letting a growl rip from his throat, and he finally manages to push your thighs apart. You let him, let them fall apart so he can slip out of you. You watch him shift upwards, his knees on either side of your torso, and youâre met with the erotic sight of him fisting his cock in front of you, urging himself into completion. You do the only thing you can think of to help; you open your mouth wide, pushing your tongue out, silently asking for his load.
âEven when you do that, youâre fucking pretty,â he groans out, and his thumb presses his cock down, resting the underside flush against your tongue as he rocks his hips. âHow much prettier are you going to look with my cum all over your face?â
He doesnât have to wait long to find out, and you donât have to respond; he gets the answer he wants with one last thrust against your tongue, and you close your eyes briefly, allowing yourself to drink in the taste, the smell of his cum as it streaks across your cheeks, all over your lips. You hear his release as it comes too â the soft rumble from his chest, the release of air that gently whistles through his teeth.
When you open your eyes again, Mark is looking down at you, a warm flush creeping up his cheeks and ears again; heâs breathless, panting as he comes down from his high. From the daze of his climax, a slightly sheepish look of apology crosses his face, and he reaches down, seemingly without any real plan, to clean you up, only to withdraw, slightly bemused, when you shake your head.
A laugh escapes him when you shimmy out from under him, straighten up, and extend your arms upward, puckering your lips in slight demand. You think he might reject you, but Mark doesnât even hesitate longer than a second. He swoops down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, and your thighs press together tight as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue swiping away his cum from your bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, sucking softly as if to clean you completely.
When he pulls away, his head dips into your shoulder; again, his face turns to press against the mark heâd left, and his teeth nip at the soft bruise thatâs already begun to blossom. Satisfied by the soft noise you make at the sensitivity you feel from the contact, he breathes out, long and steady, against your skin.
âJust⌠canât get enough of you,â he finally exhales, pressing another kiss to your neck; itâs gentler, situated just under your jaw.
âYou donât ever have to think about having enough,â you whisper, leaving a light nuzzle against his shoulder. âJust always think about having more.â
He lets out a breathy laugh, but he nods, accepting your offer anyway. A moment of silence passes, where youâre wrapped up in each other, his weight against you in a blanket of heat, and it stretches to what almost feels like an eternity â if not for the phone suddenly ringing again, Donghyuckâs name coming up on the ID. You both start, and Mark reaches over, fumbling with the sides of his device before he finds and toggles the silent switch.
âSeriously,â he grumbles, watching the call drop just for it to start up again, the screen flashing.
âWe kind of left him hanging, to be fair.â
âNo fairness.â Mark tosses the phone to the foot of the bed, where it lies, facedown and buzzing. âHe got more than he deserved today.â
You watch him as he slips off the bed, rearranging himself before clipping his jeans button back into place. He whispers a gentle âbe right backâ and exits the room, leaving the door only slightly ajar. You hear the water run in the bathroom, and a few moments later, Mark returns to your side, holding a damp towel.
He leaves a kiss after each light swipe across your face, as if to apologize for the pain he thinks he might be causing; you laugh, partly because itâs ridiculous, but mostly because you like it. He cleans your mouth last, even though thereâs already nothing left, just so he has an excuse to leave a long, lasting kiss there.
You think itâs the last youâll get for now, but he surprises you by bending down even further, hiking your shirt up your torso again. His hand rests on your thigh, keeping himself balanced as he presses a flutter of kisses around your navel, lingering at the exact spot that sits above where he knows his cock hits every time he bottoms out in you.
âOne day,â he whispers into your skin before he looks up at you, his eyes shining. âIâll really make you all mine.â
âDummy.â Your voice is just as low, and you pull his head up again, enjoying the brush of his hair against your hand, the swoop of his jaw under your palm. âHow many times do I have to tell you?â
âEvery single day, considering Iâll never get tired of it.â
You hum, not one to deny him of what he asks anyway; you push him back onto his calves, climbing back onto his lap; itâs your favorite way to be near him, you decide, with almost nothing between you, almost everything of yours touching everything of his â like you fit in him perfectly. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling their soft rise and fall as his breathing steadies, and you squirm a bit, if only to make sure his arms are locked securely around you â to make sure he wonât let go. Just like that, in his arms, you say it again â a truth, a fact, and a promise.
âI already am.â
#mark x reader#mark x you#mark smut#mark scenario#mark scenarios#mark imagine#mark imagines#mark drabble#mark drabbles#nct dream x you#nct dream x reader#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 x you#nct x you#nct x reader#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct imagine#nct scenario#nct drabble#nct drabbles#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream drabbles#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 drabbles#nct 127 imagines
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Kinich x top male reader? Imagine that Kinich limps a little after their night with reader, and while reader is trying to make amends, Ajaw makes fun of them in every possible way. That would be fun lmaođ
Anon ilysm i've been craving a reason to write ajaw for days now and I finally get my excuse!
This isn't really smut tho... sorry if I've disappointed anyone!
Payment Due | Kinich X Male Reader
Itâs beyond hot inside your shared bedroom. How long had the two of you been at it? Neither you nor Kinich could recall. Kinich has buried his face into the crook of his arm again, trying to keep himself quiet. It doesnât bring the Turnfire hunter any sort of mercy from the ruthless unending pleasure plaguing his mind, seeing as you just start fucking him harder fueled by the desire to listen to the whorish sounds that slipped from his mouth.
When Kinich wakens the next morning heâs met with a terrible sticky sensation and⌠as per usual, the most aggravating sound Kinich had heard in his whole life.
âEw! You humans really are disgusting! Iâd have never expect my own servant to engage in such⌠foul, vile, unholy, unsanitary acts of sacrilege in the close presence of the mighty dragon lord, Kuâhul Ajaw! â
Attempting to ignore Ajawâs incessant yapping, Kinich takes a deep breath and gets up out of bed⌠Only to realize the pain and agony that came with such a task. Actually, phrasing it that way is abit too⌠dramatic. What he was actually facing was the aches and pains of post sex. Kinich is limping, and (to make the situation worse) Ajaw notices.Â
âOh? Did that puny human you drool over fuck you that hard to the point you canât walk straight?! Wait- Meheheheh! maybe todayâs my lucky day! You should go outside and try fight a pack of those idiotic tribal warriors and die!â
âIâm not that stupid, now leave me aloneâ
Kinich replied, taking yet another deep breath before going to the bathroom and taking a shower. The dendro user finishes his shower, feeling much more refreshed and awake despite the fact heâs still limping. Changing into some fresh clothes he feels your arms around his waist and your head nuzzle into his shoulder.Â
âWell good morning to you tooâ
âMhhh~ Kinichhh why are you up so earlyâŚ.?â
To Kinich, the sound of your voice was always the best part of his day.
âItâs far from early my love, Infact, itâs 11 amâ
âStill too earlyâŚâ
âEW, DISGUSTING LOVE BIRDS, YOU MAKE ME SICK!â
Theres a pause in the room before you and Kinich both decide to once more completely ignore the yelling pixelized projection.Â
âMoving on, you, should be paying me compensation.â
Even though your voice was the best medicine for the aloof warrior, you were still not exempt from his habit of counting costs. To Kinich, it seems his aching grievance was enough to warrant payment.
âWh- payment?!â
âBecause of your prior actions i now find it hard to walk normally, so personally, i think you should pay the prince, no?â
âPersonally i think you should charge them has much as you can, Kinich!â (Ajaw says, bardging into the conversation only to get ignored)
âWh- Alright then~ For payment how about⌠we go another round?â
You respond, your voice now holding that seductive tone you seemed to enjoy using with him.Â
His neck is sensitive after last nightâs activities. You bite down, hard enough for him to feel it. Such an actionâs associations mixed with such sensitivity forced a needy whine from Kinichâs throat, aswell as changes the Turnfire warriorâs mind.Â
â... fine, i have time to spare⌠just⌠be abit more gentle this time, will you?â
#genshin impact#genshin male reader#genshin x male reader#genshin x reader#sub genshin#bottom kinich#kinich x you#kinich genshin#kinich x reader#kinich#ajaw#k'uhul ajaw#genshin ajaw#genshin impact kinich#genshin kinich#malipo kinich#kinich and ajaw
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We NEEED Batfam with a s/o who is the kindest person to ever walk in Gotham City. Iâm talking they have no bad bone in their bodies and ALWAYS seeâs the good in other people.
Dick found you to be refreshing.
He found your pension for helping others, even the scummiest of individuals, into a better future. However he has seen how people could take advantage of a person unlike themselves out of greed, envy for their willpower to keep believing when theyâve all but given up, and anger that they still smile even when the situation is against them.
He couldnât help but found your want to see Gotham be better admirable and how youâd wish to see the city better itself for the people that live inside it but Gotham was a city with no cure, nor wanted to be healed no matter how hard others have tried. This doesnât mean Dick was apprehensive towards your dream, if anything he shared that vision with you as it was a dream heâd love to see com true one day.
âYouâre far too kind for a city like this sweetheart.â Dick said once after he saw you give some kids from Crime Alley a generous amount of food and the money from your wallet/purse, smiling softly as you watched them run away with full stomachs and money in their tightly protected pockets.
You shrugged, looking at him with a soft glint in your eyes. âThat might be true but that doesnât mean Iâm going to run away when the going gets tough or loose my way.â You replied as you returned to his side, intertwining your fingers with his and squeezing. Dick smiles as he lifts your hand to his lips, kissing it before letting it drop between the two of you, feeling a lot lighter under your gaze as he found himself wanting to stay in this moment forever before Gotham soured even the most innocent of interactions you two shared.
âThen Iâll gladly stand by your side and help you see this dream through, if youâre not giving up then Iâm not giving up either, I promise you that.â Dick vowed as he pulled you closer to him, kissing your temple, letting himself linger there as he embraced your warmth against Gothamâs bitter cold air that tried to separate you, for it knew that you two were a formidable force to be reckoned with. You sighed, leaning towards his touch and relishing how comforting it was.
âIâd rather have no one else by my side than my dickie bird.â You said softly as Dick pulled away to smile at you. âI just donât want to see more kids suffer more than theyâve already have, whether itâd be by the hands of their parents or corrupt authority figures.â You tell him as you looked back down the alleyway the kids ran down, smile wavering a little as you could only imagine the cruelty they suffered and at such a young age too. âTheyâve already endured enough and theyâre all the more braver for not letting it destroy their spirit.â You add as you could only hope that those kids remember this small act of kindness and hold it to their chest well into their adulthood.
Dick looked at your fondly and found himself all the more amazed by you and your unending desire to see the better in people, fully believing that they can change whenever they felt ready to, even the most lost individuals can find their way back with the help of a guiding hand. People like you are what Gotham desperately needed to lead the city into a better and brighter future, you were able to find it within yourself to be kind and loving towards those that would spit at your shoes, letting them see that you werenât so easily swayed to step away from someone in pain.
âIâm sure they will,â Dick reassured you by squeezing your hand, âitâs hard to forget an act as selfless and sincere as yours honey.â
âThank you Dick.â You uttered softly as you cuddled yourself into his side, resting your head against his chest to listen to his calming heartbeat.
âJust speaking the truth and from the heart.â Dick responded as he kisses the top of your head, wanting nothing more than to make you happy just like you have been making him happy throughout your relationship. âThis town will heal, itâll be long, but itâll heal in its own time.â He adds as you both walked home to be greeted by your sweet baby Hayley.
Gotham will healâŚjust give it time and patience.
Damian found your kindness to be glaring.
It was a beacon for the weak to prey upon and your hope for Gotham was one that came from that, hope. Gotham was the city where hope and ideals for a better future came to rot and die and Damian couldnât help but scoff a little because a person like you would never survive in this town, for the people of Gotham could smell your naivety from a mile away and hunt you down until you became like them.
Which was why Damian often found himself by your side and pointing his sword at the throats of those stupid enough to be enamoured by your bright, hopeful presence, even going so far as to cut them just to prove a point. âBack off cretin.â Heâd all but growl at them and watch as they scurry off like rats.
Youâd look at him with the expression of an upset puppy as he sheathed his sword. âDamian.â You groaned.
âTheyâd only come back for more if you conceded to their whims my love.â Damian replied calmly as he cupped your face between his hands, resting his head against yours to look deeply into your eyes. âAnd I do not intended for my beloved to be used by the miscreants that littler the street like discarded toys, bent out of use and lost all purpose but to kill the will of those that still believe.â He could see the hurt and the disbelief in your eyes before the look of resilience took over your face as you smiled sweetly at him, taking his breath away.
âThen Iâll keep believing for the people who canât, wonât or have long since given up all hope that Gotham can be better than what theyâre forced to believe as truth.â You said and Damian couldnât help but find your tenacity and determination to keep strong when all seems bleak and depressing admirable. However he couldnât help but want to usher you away from the utter madness that he had seen with his bare eyes, keep you from ever seeing this town for what it truly was; chaos incarnate.
The town was constantly tearing itself apart and putting itself together again but by only using the worst parts of itself over and over again until it could do nothing but collapse in on itself, dragging everyone else down with it in the process, implicating a sense of darkness and despair that could leave even the most strong willed of people to wonder whether it was worth it and Damian didnât wish for you to loose that light, nor hope for a better Gotham.
âYou are truly an enigma my treasure.â Damian sighed as you kissed his cheeks, nose then lips quickly, making him smile softly as he closed his eyes to embrace your affection. âStubborn yet sweet, kind yet headstrong, hopeful yet knowledgeable. That is the kind of person you are and I do not wish to see you falter to this cityâs darkness, for a cage is not a place for a bird that is meant to be free from all restraints to itâs ability to fly.â Damian murmurs as he kisses your forehead.
âAnd Iâm glad to have someone like you dami.â You said happily as you admired his emerald eyes. âBut I just wish for the betterment of the people here, doesnât everyone deserve a second chance?â You then asked as your hopeful eyes twinkled like the stars above, bright and vibrant, so unlike the eyes of everyone that resided in Gotham which were dull, lost and angry.
âNot everyone my love.â Damian counters, ârehabilitation can only take them so far before they realise that they can abuse the help given to them with the hope theyâd do better once out, while that might be the case for some but there are those who see an opportunity to take from the giving.â You sighed, still smiling at him as you recognised that he was equally as stubborn in his own views, just as much as you were stubborn in yours.
âThat is true but I just canât afford to give up, not when this city is crying out for help but only receiving bloodshed and corruption.â You reached out and rubbed his arms soothingly. You were too kind to a town that reeked of blood and violence Damian deducted from your first meeting, having found it rather childish and naive, but now he saw this as something that should be valued and appreciated while it could and Damian internally vowed to keep this light within you alive and burning for as long as he could.
For you were his hope just as much as Gothamâs.
Jason finds you to be the purest and sweetest soul amongst the piss and shit that made up the rest of Gotham.
The light in the dark for many, but unfortunately that means that youâd also attract the attention of people whom Jason saw as people whoâd take advantage of a soul like you.
So much so that he would rest his hand on your wait and pull you away when some suspicious looking man walked up to you, hands cupped together with a pathetic look upon his face as he pleaded with you, never once looking at him because the punk knew he couldnât fool him with his character so he went for you instead like a coward.
âIâm pretty sure Iâve got some money I can spare-â you said sweetly as you tried to reach for your wallet/purse.
âNo.â Jason said as he stops you and glares at the man who looked back at him with a face that only confirmed what he had already assumed upon seeing him; he was taking advantage of you for his own benefit and was pissed that Jason was guarding you from his schemes. âHe can scrap the shit off of the pavement and feed himself with it.â Jason adds as he proceeded to pull you away from the man who only spat near his shoe and slunk away into the alleyway, waiting for someone else he could take advantage of.
âJason!â You exclaimed, wanting to truly help the man in hopes heâd change his ways for a more productive one.
âYou canât think you can heal everyone chipmunk, then theyâll think they are entitled to everything you have and will want to take every piece of you until thereâs nothing left for them to benefit from, where theyâll leave your body to rot until they can find a new soul to dig their claws into.â Jason replied firmly but the moment he saw your saddened look he sighed and tipped your chin up with his finger. âHey,â he began softy, âa soul like you is unique, precious as a jewel, and you shine too brightly that youâve become a beacon for the worst this shit town has to offer but Iâm not going to let them.â He finished as he kissed your forehead.
âI just canât expect you to protect me all the time.â You retorted as you held his face between your hands, caressing his cheeks in a soothing manner and smiling as he melted into your touch. âI canât help who I am, I just want the best for everyone and I canât help but hope that Gotham heals itself for the betterment of its people.â Jason couldnât help but look at you lovingly as he brought you in closer to him so that you were pressed against each other, the closeness was enough to calm his thoughts.
You were too good to be true in Jasonâs eyes and would far better in a city far, far away from Gotham in hopes that the poisonous town doesnât seep into you, but you were not only kind but far too stubborn to do such a thing; especially when there was people to help and Jason couldnât help but find beauty in your will to do right by the people, even the ones that he didnât think were worth the tireless effort of saving but that was the kind of person you were and he loved you all the more for being true to yourself.
âIâm not asking you to change. I could never ask you to stop being who you are because itâs people like you that Gotham needs most, not violence or hateful comments, just someone who genuinely wants to help for the sake of bettering a community who donât have the resources to help themselves and be a guiding hand for the hopeless.â Jason kisses you on the lips. âThatâs the person I fell for, an absolute angel.â He finishes as he cradled you even further against his chest as he felt you cling onto him.
You were far too sweet for a sour town like Gotham but Jason was going to be with you no matter what, an angel like you needs someone like him who can protect you from the corrupt and the evil that lurks beneath the surface, or shows their face proudly in a town where hope comes to die. Jason will protect his light, his angel, his cheeky little chipmunk who often steals his hoodies when they missed him for you were worth more than heâd ever let this putrid city know. Heâll protect what is his and wage war on those who seek to hurt his hope for Gotham.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc comics x reader#dc fic#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd imagines#jason todd x you#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader
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where we left off. (hinata shoyo x reader)
summary: âyou confess because you think you will never see him again, so it doesnât matter â - for my valentineâs day event - theme: confessions
word count: 1981
tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass s @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties
event masterlist
There is a light in Shoyo that just wonât dim. Not that you want it to. Itâs your favorite thing about him.
There are ten million reasons to like Shoyo (though Tsukishima would disagree and say he can barely find one. Heâs lying. No one can dislike Shoyo. Itâs not possible). But you like him for the simple reason that he is the best person you have ever met. He is dedicated and kind, loyal and friendly. You have known him since your first year in high school, and you have seen him face every adversity that comes his way with full confidence and optimism.
Itâs no wonder youâre hopelessly in love with him. How could you not be? Shoyo entered your life and made everything ten times brighter and easier to deal with. From day one, he was your confidant and your cheerleader. In all those three years, Shoyo stood by you like you stood by him. You had grown by leaps and bounds with him as your friend.
Friend.
The sun was low in the sky, spreading a warm orange light over the clouds as it set. The color reminds you of Shoyoâs hair, and you have to curse yourself. It seems you can never stop thinking about him, and the world is adamant on making sure you didnât even try to. You sigh and lean back on the bench you were seated on, closing your eyes and mentally preparing yourself for what was coming.
High school graduation had come and gone. Tomorrow, Shoyo will leave for Brazil. For two years minimum. And who knows? He says he will return, but there is a very real chance he wonât. An up-and-coming volleyball player like him, he could be snatched up by a local club. Or he could fall in love with beach volleyball and continue living there so he could keep playing it.
Two years is a long time for a person to change. You can change. He can change. You canât trust yourself to leave this until then. Now, before Shoyo leaves, you will confess to him all of your closely guarded feelings. Before he potentially leaves your life for good, he has to know that he is the reason you are where you have gotten.
Heavy footsteps slowly fade in, making you turn your head to follow the sound. You spot Shoyo barreling down the sidewalk towards you, skidding to an abrupt halt when he reaches your bench. He takes a few deep breaths before grinning wide, and just the sight of his million watt smile has your own lips tugging up to return the gesture.
âReady for dinner?â
Homey, comforting ramen is Shoyoâs choice of last meal in Japan. You both trudge into his usual ramen place, one that he loved to frequent often after practice. He talks your ear off all the way there, telling you about his day. He had been getting his affairs in order, saying goodbye to all the important people and packing up some last minute stuff. You let him catch you up to every tiny detail, (He is like that. He doesnât like leaving anything out) and you hum along to his stories.
When steaming bowls of ramen are set down before you is when Shoyo finally shuts up, instead choosing to immediately wolf it down. You watch him with blatant adoration in your eyes. You know you do, and you donât bother to hide it. Sharing this one last moment with him, you donât want to hold back. This might be the last time you can look at him in leisure. So you drink him in the best you can, trying to seal this moment in your memory forever.
âAre you excited for beach volleyball?â
He nods around a mouthful of noodles. âI have just two years to learn it, so Iâm a bit nervous. But I canât wait to start!â
You smile at his usual unending enthusiasm. âYouâll be great, Shoyo. I have never met someone as hardworking as you.â
And there is that smile again, so bright you almost have to squint to withstand it. He was so different from how he was in first year. He had come such a long way in just three years. Imagine how much he would change after two years in a completely foreign country, on the other side of the world.
You can feel your shoulders drop.
After dinner, Shoyo insists on dessert and you both end up getting ice pops. He finishes his before you can even take one bite of your own, and then ends up finishing half of yours as well when you tell him you are full and he can have it. No wonder he has unending stamina. He eats the food of three people. You smile at the thought.
As per routine, Shoyo walks you home afterward. The sun has fully set by this time, and the streetlights periodically illuminate the two of you as you walk along the sidewalk. Your figures cast long, moving shadows on the concrete, and you keep your eyes on them as you walk. Shoyo is humming something under his breath, occasionally breaking the silence to comment on something. You bask in the moment.
When you slow to a stop at your front door, you realise it is finally time to do what you had been psyching yourself up for all this time.
âI have something to say.â You comment. Shoyo blinks and nods, encouraging you to continue. You take a deep breath.
âFor the last three years, youâve been the best person in my life. By a long shot. I canât believe I met someone like you. Youâre always so supportive, Shoyo, and youâve really helped me be the best version of myself.â
You cringe at your corny statements, but Shoyoâs face has softened. He stays silent. You muscle on.
âI like you. A lot. A lot. And before you leave, I just wanted you to know this.â
Because I may never see you again. You let the last sentence die in your throat.
Shoyo looks down at the ground, fiddling with his hands a bit. You realize you have made him nervous. And no wonder. You just dumped a huge revelation on him the day before he leaves the country.
âYou donât have to say anything!â You add on, as soon as Shoyo opens his mouth to speak, trying to soothe his nerves. âI donât want you to reciprocate. I just wanted to tell you all this before you left.â
You step forward to wrap him into a hug, feeling him freeze at the gesture. You donât let yourself linger, pulling away mere seconds later. Shoyo opens and closes his mouth like a fish. You giggle.
âDo your best in Brazil, Shoyo. Iâm counting on you.â
And then you pull open the door, shutting it behind yourself with one last smile at his surprised face.
âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ
Tokyo is a big city, and you lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of it.
Miyagi was quiet, peaceful, and you knew more or less everyone there. In contrast, Tokyo is continuously moving, and you have to run to keep up with it. Itâs a big change, going from Tokyo to Miyagi, but it is a welcome one. You can feel how you change and blossom along with the city.
Your apartment is small. One bedroom, open kitchen, tiny bathroom. Itâs a starter apartment and you are still a student, so it doesnât matter. Every night, you cook yourself a modest meal and plop yourself down in front of the television, continuing some show you have been watching for the last few days. Afterwards, you have a warm cup of tea and then begin your nightly routine, ready for classes the next day.
Today that routine is disrupted by loud knocking on the door.
You pause your chewing, reaching for the remote to mute the TV. You donât hear any sound, not even shuffling, but ten seconds later you hear another, longer knock. Sighing, you set your bowl down on the coffee table and throw your blanket off, trudging to the door. When you look through the peephole, all you see is one shoulder. You roll your eyes at the person who chose to not stand in your view.
You undo the lock and pull the door open, immediately freezing on the spot.
He has grown so much taller, and broader. His skin holds a wonderful bronze tan, and his hair is shorter than the last time you saw him. But his smile is the same. Bright and blinding, endlessly welcoming. Your heart skips.
âHi.â He breathes. His voice is deeper too. A little scratchier. You continue to stare, mouth agape. You cannot believe it, and your brain cannot process it.
âShoyoâŚâ Your grip on the doorframe tightens. A small silence extends between you two. Shoto shifts a bit.
âCan I come in?â He asks sheepishly.
You abruptly jerk back, nodding vigorously. âOf course! Sorry, sorry. Come in.â
You allow Shoyo to pass through the threshold, toeing his shoes off and stacking them next to your own before looking back at you expectantly. You lead him into the living room, mind racing with a thousand thoughts.
He was back. From Brazil. Taller and tanned and just as bright. And heâs back. You reel with the revelation.
âHow have you been?â He asks, seating himself on the couch and looking up at you with a small smile. He seemsâŚ. calmer somehow. More present instead of how flighty he used to be. More grounded. You nod a bit.
âIâm- Iâve been good. You?â
âMe too.â
âOkay good.â
Awkward silence stretches between you two. You feel your face heat up.
âIâm going to make tea!â You announce, bustling towards the kitchen before Shoyo can protest, trying not to think about the last conversation you had with him right before he left, over two years ago.
Once you settle before him with two steaming hot cups, the awkward air disperses a bit. You arenât surprised. It always did with Shoyo. He had a talent like this. You ask him about Brazil and he goes on a whole storytime for it, telling you about the vast beaches and the burning sun. How much he learned and how much he changed.
That part is true, you can tell. Shoyo has changed. But despite all that, you can feel the way your heart skips, the way your palms get clammy. All those old feelings are coming back, and you cannot stop them. As you watch the way Shoyo laughs and reminisces with you, youâre not sure you want to.
A lull hits after Shoyo stops talking, and you watch as he fiddles with his hands a bit before speaking again, his voice lower this time, more serious.
âCan weâŚ.. pick up where we left off?â He doesnât glance up at you, playing with his hands.
You blink at his words, trying to process them. He gives you a crooked smile that lights your nerves on fire.
âYou never let me reply that day. AndâŚ. I didnât think I should either, because I was leaving. But nowâŚâ
He trails off, you feel your breath catch. Is he implying what you think he is? You try not to get your hopes up, but Shoyoâs next words seal the deal.
âI like you tons.â
You canât help your breathless laugh at his choice of words. Your skin buzzes. Shoyo scoots closer to you. You let him. His leg brushes against yours and you can feel the way electricity zips through you at the feeling.
âI like you tons too.â
Ten minutes later, when Shoyo drags huge suitcases into your lobby from outside your front door, you realize he came here straight from the airport. And it only makes you love him more.
#hinata shouyou#hinata shoyo x reader#hinata shoyo haikyuu#hinata shoyo x you#hinata shoyo fluff#hinata shoyo fanfiction#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq fluff#hinata shĹyĹ
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So many âtaking care of Logan after a long dayâ fics exist. Why not Wade?
Wade, who is canonically in constant chronic pain due to cancer ripping apart his cells and then being knitted back together by his healing factor. Who, in the comics, isnât just scarred, but constantly has open wounds on every plane of his body. Whose brain is constantly being literally eaten by cancer and replaced and is tumultuous in his emotions at best (bipolar girly here, relatable). Who so desperately tries to be a good guy when he knows it matters the most. Who throws his all into protecting the people he holds dearest to him. Who is, in reality, doing one of the only jobs that accommodates his conditions, and is still doing it to take out people he believes are causing others harm.
Doesnât he deserve to be greeted with a warm, reassuring hug and a soft kisses to his features? To be helped out of his suit as his body succumbs to the mounting exhaustion and relief at being at home, taken to a warm (but not hot) bath with a soothing soak blend youâd carefully researched to ease the discomfort of the ever-changing landscape of hills and valleys in his flesh? He knows you know that they donât help him heal and certainly doesnât prevent them from reappearing, but he likes to believe (or pretend) that it eases the itch and ache, if only for just a little while.
He likes it when you sit with him, asking gently probing questions about your day to get you talking and less concerned about him. And he likes hearing about your day, the mundane and even routine things that he lacks. He likes it when you offer to help wash the blood off of him, knowing that your careful hands will be gently massaging away at his aching muscles. Itâs one of the few times heâs really quiet; letting your hands work off the red to leave behind Wade, just Wade.
When you help him out of the bath, leaving him to the bedroom with his favorite pajama pants and one of seemingly unending shirts with phrases like I GOT MY CLIT PIERCED AT CLAIREâS or I MAY BE STUPID, you return to the kitchen to take dinner out of the oven. Some kind of one-sheet-pan recipe youâd looked up earlier in the day while you were at work. Whatever it is, it smells amazing from in the bedroom, and he quickly comes out to wrap his arms around your waist and lean over your shoulder to take a deeper whiff, calling you Martha Stewart and Guy Fieriâs bastard scandal child or asking if you were extracted straight out of Gordon Ramseyâs left nut.
You have a lovely dinner with Wade singing your praises the entire time, and god, it knocks him right out. Do not let that man go sit on the couch after a good, filling meal like that, because that is where he will pass out and you couldnât move him with a forklift. Take him by both hands, lead him into the bedroom, get him on the bed (let him make his comments, they are unavoidable whether heâs horny or not), turn the lights off, and crawl under the covers with him. Press your body as close to his as possible; heâll probably want to be skin to skin if he can stay awake long enough to get you both out of your clothes. And to perhaps everyoneâs surprise except yours, itâs really not all that sexual in nature. He finds the smoothness of your skin soothing against his own, and he runs a little cold, so he finds refuge in the warmth you provide. He likes to pull the covers up to your noses and kiss you under the blankets like youâre hiding some big secret, making you giggle as he shushes you to keep quiet.
His favorite place to sleep on nights like this is with his ear against your chest; the sound of your heart still beating and your lungs still pulling in air is a great comfort to him. If itâs comfortable, heâll want to fall asleep with your fingers lazily entwined, and pro tipâ he finds it incredibly relaxing to have you run your fingertips along his palm, down his wrist and up in the inside of his forearm then all the way back down until he falls asleep. Congratulations, youâve got yourself a content and quiet Wade all to yourself until morning. Enjoy it. Make sure you kiss his cheeks and nose and forehead while youâre at it; it makes him smile in his sleep.
#wade wilson#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson x you#deadpool#deadpool x reader#deadpool x you#sfw#fluff#deadpool and wolverine
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