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lola-writes · 4 months ago

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Prince Regent

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Word Count: 8.6k

Synopsis: Aemond returns to the Red Keep after the battle of Rook’s Rest with a newfound vigor for his wife.

Themes & Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI!), POV first person (Aemond’s & reader’s), s2x04,05 inspired, enemies to lovers trope, smut, violence, blood, dark/possessive Aemond, breeding kink, swearing, mentions of rape, high valyrian, fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v, doggystyle, creampie, rough sex, hair pulling, choking

Song: Hide and Seek ~ Klergy, Mindy Jones

Latest oneshot: A Dragon's Lullaby

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Enjoy the read!

[gif @aemondstark ]

AEMOND

Smoke. Dragon fire. Blood.

It clung to me, acrid and sweet, like a perverse cloak of victory.

A primal urge, raw and unbidden, erupted within me, a hunger that transcended the battle’s end. It devoured my senses. It vibrated within my bones. It consumed my very being.

My adrenaline ebbed, leaving a hollowness in its wake. The battle was over. Victory was ours. Gleaming armor was storming the castle. But that victory hung hollow, a meaningless echo in the carnage. My flesh seared with defeat. A strange fire, unsatiated, stirred beneath my skin.

I needed something more. Something I could sink my teeth into, as Vhagar had. Something warm and living.

From the air, I watched the smoke curl skyward, soldiers scattering like startled ants, and Meleys red corpse lay vanquished beneath brick and dust.

The warmth of my kill was still writhing. It was a fresh, living ember, demanding to be tended.

The impact of my brother’s fall had torn the wood asunder, set the ground ablaze, smoke and cinders rising steadily towards the heavens. My gaze settled on the inferno, and I urged Vhagar, my reflection in scales and fire, towards it, my mighty beast beating the wind like thunder as we circled twice around the barrenness of the forest, before she heeded my command.

“Qubemagon, Vhagar.” (Descend)

I dismounted her and trod a path towards the inferno, my sword materializing in my grasp with a practiced turn of my wrist. Shades of red marred my vision. The air shimmered, thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood.

Adrenaline trickled into my bloodstream.

Never had I been so close to my birthright, so close to erasing the past. My grip tightened around the hilt. Images swam up before me. A lifetime of humiliations, each one a searing brand in my retina. My brother getting what he wasn’t fit for, presented to him on a silver platter. But no longer. No more would he be the architect of my suffering.

But as a tremor shook the ground, a low rumble heralding the broken form of the golden dragon, a monument of smoke, blood, dirt, and ashes, none of it seemed to matter.

As I crested a rise, the world snapped into sharp focus. My gaze landed on him - my brother; melted into a nightmarish tableau of steel, flesh, and bone, encircled by his dragon’s golden body.

Resolution, cold and heavy, settled in my chest. Killing him would be fruitless. The Stranger had already requested an audience.

I had achieved what needed to be done. As I lifted the edge of my sword to its sheath, a voice echoed through the forest.

“Aemond!” Cole cried my name like a desperate warning. I glanced back, my weapon disappearing into its sheath with a final rasp.

I looked down at my sacrifice. The damage was raw, excessive. The damage that was wanton. A pang of unease twisted in my gut.

A glint of metal caught my eye, and I dropped to my haunches to retrieve the Conqueror’s Valyrian steel dagger from the bloodied earth. The dagger that was once Aegon’s. It was mine now.

Ser Criston’s rustling armor announced his approach. “Where is His Grace?” he asked, voice quivering.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I tilted my chin, allowing the glistening steel guide his gaze toward the grotesque sculpture of my melted brother encircled by golden scales.

Ser Criston crumpled to his knees without a word, as I rose to my feet.

A cold knot of regret twisted in my chest as I regarded my tribute. But it was fleeting, replaced by the icy fire of my ambition.

There was much to be done, and I needed to proceed if I were to achieve it. I turned on my heel and left Cole and my broken brother behind.

The battlefield and the devastation shrank beneath me as Vhagar’s powerful wings propelled us skyward.

A sharp thrill prickled my skin that was naught from the velocity, but rather that of my impending regency.

Upon returning to King’s Landing, I made my way to the small council chamber, ascending the stairs with slow deliberate steps. The air was thick with tension. The council was in disarray, engrossed in a heated discussion, but fell silent as the doors swung open. Eyes turned to me.

“My Lords,” I announced, my voice cutting through the sudden hush. I rounded the council table. “Mother,” I said, offering a curt nod of acknowledgement as I passed Alicent’s chair.

“Aemond,” she demanded, steel in her voice. “Where is Aegon?”

A heavy pause hung in the air before I met her gaze.

“Aegon has fallen,” I said.

The council erupted in uproar.

Cries of outrage and accusations.

Obscenities.

Scandal.

“How could this be allowed to happen?”

“What is the meaning of this?”

“We are doomed!”

The disapproval of the Lords sullied the chambers. This council was surely in lack of discipline. I already had my eyes on who I were to replace.

“The King is dead!”

“The King is not dead,” I countered, my voice calm and mellifluous, soothing the council members like warm milk. Voices dipped and eyes turned to me, an invisible shudder surging through the air. “He has merely sustained grave injuries and is being brought back to the Red Keep for treatment as we speak.” I began to pace around the table, hands slotted behind my back. “The King fought bravely,” I continued. “Landing mortal injuries to the Pretender’s cause. But the Red Queen cast him out of the sky before I could get to him.”

My pacing had brought me to the head of the council table, where I ceased my step. My hand reached out to allow my fingers to trace the chair frame, its iron vibrating with the power I so craved.

It was palpable.

It was mine for the taking.

I looked up at the members of the small council, my eye piercing each and every one of them until they quivered in their chairs.

“And in the coils of torment,” I spoke. “My brother, King Aegon, named me Prince Regent.”

A tremor vibrated the room, weary eyes glanced at each other, bodies twisting uncomfortably in creaking chairs.

“If anyone should be named regent, surely it should be me, his mother,” voiced Alicent.

I cast my gaze on her.

“Aemond is next in line,” came voices from the small council.

“Yes, but the King still lives!” Alicent implored.

“Who am I to contest the wishes of the King?” I said softly, casting her a look of pure innocence.

Alicent’s eyes welled like a tide of despair, her head dipping to the table with defeat. If Alicent could conjure words that had not been uttered to serve her own ends, why could I not?

“Aemond…” she started, her voice a gentle tremble. “Could we at least discuss this?”

“As prince regent, I vow to serve this realm, my Lords, and guide our path to victory against the Whore of Dragonstone.”

My gaze drifted to the platform in the center of the table, settling on the cold polished marble that remained. The King’s marble. I reached for it, and as my fingers closed around its smooth surface, I met Alicent’s eyes. A flicker of desperate plea danced within them, and I held it with a cold response. She exhaled with defeat as I seated myself in the King’s chair, placing the marble in its rocky nest.

“All hail Aemond, Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm,” Lord Tyland Lannister’s voice came, and the words echoed across the table.

A smirk played on my lips. “My Lords,” I began, splaying my hands atop the table. “Let us commence.”

YOU

Mutters. Whispers. Gossip.

The news, carried on frantic breaths, was a tangled mess.

One moment, the King was dead, the next, grievously wounded. Some murmured of a crippled monarch, others of his mighty dragon slain.

It buzzed in my ears as I made my way towards the throne room.

Fear, a cold serpent, coiled in my gut.

The throne room pulsed with tense energy. Hundreds of courtiers jostled for position, their faces etched with a mixture of morbid curiosity and nervous anticipation. I descended the cold stone steps, the weight of each step echoing the growing dread in my heart.

The Iron Throne loomed before me, an empty monument of jagged steel. Its cruel beauty, forged from a thousand fallen enemies, held a chilling glint in the flickering torchlight. I observed it over the shoulder of the woman in front of me, the precariousness of my position suddenly amplified.

A shiver ran down my spine. Sometimes, I believed it was cursed. Promising to cast whoever graced it to a terrible fate.

My fingers, restless with apprehension, turned my rings about my fingers, pulling them off and on in a nervous dance. A prickling sensation spread through me as I felt countless eyes burning into my back. Disapproval mingled with a strange reverence. The room thrummed with unspoken questions, and I, too, yearned for answers, desperately seeking a foothold in the swirling vortex of uncertainty.

A ripple of anticipation surged through the crowd as a figure emerged. I turned to witness the gleaming silver armor of the King’s Guard announcing Ser Criston Cole, the newly appointed Hand of the King. Hundreds of eyes swiveled in his wake as he strode towards the Iron Throne, which seemed to gnash its serrated teeth at his approach.

My mind churned in chaotic disarray. Ser Criston had marched on Rook’s Rest, prompting Aemond’s hurried departure. Where my husband was now, remained a mystery. Perhaps still at Rook’s Rest, tending to the fallen King, or perhaps continuing on to Harrenhal, a destination he oft mentioned.

None of it mattered.

My marriage to Aemond had been a political maneuver, as cold and sterile as a septa’s cell. He held no affection for me, nor I for him. He was the absent, aloof prince I’d always imagined him to be. Carrying a frozen heart of a killer. Our union was no more than an alliance. Though I was hardly complaining. Married life granted me freedoms I scarcely thought possible for a highborn lady. But I would jest if I said I did not long for something more. Something warm. Something living. But in Aemond, either would be the last place I’d find.

Ser Criston swept a steely gaze across the court, his face unreadable. He chewed the inside of his cheeks curiously, the motion ceasing abruptly when his eyes met mine. Cold and dark. I met his stare head-on, until an odd feeling took root in my gut.

Unanswered questions swirled in my mind.

Ser Criston tore his gaze from me, his eyes flitting across the room. Then, with a voice laced with authority, he boomed, “I address this court as Hand to inform you that the King has been grievously wounded in battle!”

A collective gasp ripped through the court. Whispers, like startled birds, rose in a flurry.

Ser Criston continued, a steely edge creeping into his voice, “Rhaenyra the Cruel will believe she won a great victory this day. May believe we will cower and offer her the throne like whipped dogs. But the False Queen is sorely mistaken. For the throne will not remain empty.”

Whispers escalated into a commotion. An unsettling prickle danced across my skin. My mind darted to the dowager Queen Alicent. Surely, in Aegon’s absence, they would elevate her to the throne. But after usurping Rhaenyra, would they truly place another woman in her stead?

My thoughts, apparently, mirrored those of the court, for Alicent’s name drifted around me like a persistent echo.

Ser Criston’s voice rose to a commanding pitch, reverberating through the throne room, “I present to you…” The heavy oak doors of the throne room ground open, drawing every eye in unison.

My breath caught in my throat as a figure materialized at the stairs.

It wasn’t Alicent.

A frame, draped in dark green leather that shimmered with silver accents, emerged from the groaning doors. The Conqueror’s crown, a heavy circle of iron, sat upon their silver head, casting a long shadow across a face half-obscured by an eyepatch.

“Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen,” Ser Criston declared, his voice thick with forced authority. “Rider of Vhagar.”

Aemond descended the steps.

“Slayer of the queen who never was.”

Aemond’s footsteps, muffled by polished leather boots and the collective murmurs of the courtiers, made a predator’s approach as he stalked toward the Iron Throne. Two King’s Guard flanked him with stoic expressions.

“And Protector of the Realm.”

He ascended the iron steps with a chilling grace, finally settling upon the throne. A hush fell over the court, thick and heavy. Silence stretched as he molded himself into the seat, his lethal hands caressing the equally lethal rests, a small smirk playing on his lips. His voice, a honeyed drawl laced with a hint of steel, echoed in the sudden silence.

“My Lords and Ladies,” he began, the menacing glint in his blue eye accentuated by the play of shadows on his face. “His Grace, the King, has been wounded at the battle of Rook’s Rest, and will be incapable to rule.”

There was a power in his presence, an unspoken threat that left the court speechless. Not a cough, not a rustle of fabric dared to break the silence.

“Therefore,” he continued, his gaze sweeping over the frozen faces, “I, will act as your sovereign.”

Unease prickled at my skin. Something about Aemond’s demeanor, the unnatural sheen on his face, sent a tremor of suspicion through me.

Had this all been a carefully orchestrated play? What truly transpired at Rook’s Rest?

My eyes darted to the ornate dagger resting at his hip, the ancestral blade of Aegon the Conqueror. It was the same dagger I’d last seen clutched in the hand of his brother.

As Aemond spoke on, a knot of apprehension tightened in my gut.

“The tide has turned,” he declared, his voice ringing through the stunned silence. “Rhaenys Targaryen is slain, along with her dragon.” A small smile tugged at his lips, a low hum escaping them. “The largest serving the Pretender’s cause.” He said it like it was a jest. “Rook’s Rest has been claimed, leaving Dragonstone vulnerable.” His fingers tapped across the blades. “This is a victory for us.”

Scattered heads nodded in agreement.

Then, his gaze snapped to me, a rapacious glint in his single blue eye. It seemed to bore into my very soul, stripping away any pretense.

“It’s all going according to plan,” he murmured, his voice a silken threat, and for a moment, an eerie feeling within told me he was addressing me alone. The fire that danced within his eye flickered a touch too bright, and it felt like he could see every thought swirling in my mind, every flicker of doubt, every spark of fear.

It felt like he was about to eat me alive.

A violent terror surged through me, icy fingers gripping my heart. Adrenaline tapped into my veins, a primal urge to flee.

Frantic energy fueled my movements. I shoved dresses, jewelry, all of my belongings, into overflowing wooden trunks. Their straining hinges mocked my desperation. My handmaid, silent but swift, followed my frenzied instructions. I knew then, with a chilling certainty, that I owed her my life after this escape.

Aemond’s chambers, once a familiar haven, felt cold and sterile now, stripped bare of my belongings. Rain lashed against the open windows, mirroring the frantic rhythm of my heart. The journey ahead would be long and treacherous. Circumstances weren’t optimal, but there was no other choice at my disposal.

My husband was a murderer and a kinslayer twice over. And my intuition told me it would soon be thrice. He wasn’t just ruthless; there was an unsettling hollowness behind his actions, a chilling absence of remorse. He was a walking blight, a storm that devoured everything in its path. And I refused to be struck down by its lightning.

The apartment doors shuddered open, shattering me into distraught. My flight instincts flared, but I refused to cower. My hand instinctively shot out, grasping my maid’s hand tightly. We held our breath as a large, porcelain hand reached out and pushed the door wider.

Aemond entered, leaving the door ajar. His gaze, unwavering and cold, locked with mine. “Leave us,” he commanded, his voice a smooth, cold current.

My handmaid curtsied, her grip faltering as she pried my fingers loose. With a hurried glance back, she scurried out, the heavy door slamming shut behind her.

An oppressive silence descended, broken only by the frantic pounding of my heart against my ribs.

Escape seemed impossible; the air thick with a chilling dread.

“You sent for me, wife?” Aemond’s voice, a silken caress laced with steel, echoed in the cavernous chamber. He approached with a predative grace, each deliberate step shrinking the distance between us.

Confusion slammed into me. I hadn’t summoned him. This was, by far, the most he’d spoken to me since our loveless union.

“You are mistaken,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. My feet, traitors that they were, retreated with each of his advances. Then, it dawned on me, that it might have been his intention to put me in a state of dubiety, making me more malleable. A cutthroat, not only lethal, but cunning.

He stopped beside my overflowing trunk, a flicker of amusement playing on his lips.

“Travelling somewhere?” His single blue eye, unnervingly perceptive, held me captive.

Panic clawed at my throat. I clenched my trembling hands into fists, slotting them behind my back, forcing my lips into a gentle smile.

“I wish to visit my family,” I said. “With war looming, I wish for us to be together.”

Aemond took another measured step closer. “Ao issi aerēbas mirriot daor,” (You’re not going anywhere), he murmured, the High Valyrian rolling off his tongue like a sinister threat.

A furrow etched between my brows as I attempted to comprehend his words. My grasp of the ancient tongue was limited, and whether he intended me to understand was a cruel game. Perhaps, it was yet another tool to exert his dominance. But based on his relentless pursuit, I gathered me leaving wasn’t an option he entertained.

“I am of no use to you, Aemond,” I pleaded, maintaining a safe distance. “Me staying serves no purpose.”

“On the contrary,” he purred, his voice dripping with a dark promise. His head tilted covetously, venom flashing in his eye.

“We barely exist to each other,” I continued. “What difference would it make if I was half a world away?”

“It would make all the difference.” The warmth in his voice vanished, replaced by a glacial edge. “There’s the matter of heirs.”

Seven Hells.

Anguish twisted my gut. Intuition, a primal scream, roared to life. Images flashed behind my eyelids – Aemond sitting the throne, and Aegon reduced to ash.

Had this been his plan all along? Was he the reason for the King’s lethal end?

The pieces slammed together in my mind, a horrifying mosaic.

I gasped, my back hitting the cold stone wall. Aemond’s ambition stretched far beyond my naïve expectations. Loyalty to his house, to his brother, had been a carefully constructed facade. Beneath it, he schemed, a shrewd predator stalking his ultimate prize. The crown.

And the crown needed heirs.

He towered over me, his presence overwhelming. He was much taller than I recalled, every inch radiating a rapacious tension. A hand braced itself against the wall, inches from my head.

“What have you done?” My thoughts materialized into shaky words, laced with an enmity that surprised even me. My gaze raked over him, revulsion twisting my features. The green leather seemed to pulse, an illusion fueled by my churning stomach.

A flicker, a hint of something akin to uncertainty, crossed his single eye. It darted across my face, as if truly seeing me for the first time. Perhaps he was. In this desperate flight, we’d never been closer. Close enough to be enveloped by his scent, a foreign musk that did little to quell my churning nausea.

“Skoros iksin bēvilagon.” (What was necessary)

I frowned again, aggravated that he took to High Valyrian as an attempt to shut me out of his thoughts. My jaw clenched, frustration a bitter taste on my tongue.

Malevolence rose like a flood as I leaned forward, so close that our noses nearly touched, “I would not have your child in a million years, kinslayer,” I spat, my voice trembling with contained fury. I lunged forward, aiming to push past him, to escape his suffocating presence. But his other hand shot out, slamming against the wall beside me, effectively caging me in.

A venomous glint flickered in his eye as he narrowed it at me through his lashes. A twitch played on his lips, a cat batting at a cornered mouse. “Be that as it may,” he said mellowly. “But even a bad wife must obey her king.”

A scoff escaped my lips, my eyes sizing him up and down. “You are no king,” I hissed, defiance lacing my voice. “You are not even a man.”

His reaction was swift and brutal.

One hand shot out and grabbed my face, forcing my head against the cold stone. Pain erupted at the impact, but quickly subsided as he leaned in, his hot breath fanning against my lips.

“Speak such treason again, and I’ll show you what I really am.”

“What will you do?” I spat back, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and insurgence. “Cripple me, like you did your brother? Force yourself on me?”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growled, his voice simmering with barely contained violence.

A tense silence ensued, the air crackling with his restrained fury.

My suspicions, already simmering, solidified into a horrifying certainty. He’d orchestrated his brother’s downfall on purpose.

“Have you no honor?” I whispered, the words a ragged plea.

The silence stretched, broken only by our ragged breaths. His hold on my face loosened gradually, his hand falling away. But his gaze remained fixed on me, a storm brewing within its depths.

“You cannot stop me, Aemond,” I said, my voice shrinking. “I will leave this place, one way or another. You can play king in my absence, but it will be a hollow crown.”

“Kesan arghugon ao naejot se mōris hen tegon.” (I will hunt you to the end of the earth)

“Speak plainly,” I snapped, my patience with his cryptic pronouncements wearing thin.

A chilling smile, devoid of warmth, stretched across his lips. He pushed himself away from the wall, backing away, creating my long-desired distance between us.

“You may go,” he drawled, the amusement in his voice laced with a dangerous edge, that sardonic smile still plastered on his lips.

Acrimony filled my gut. What little I knew of this man, I feared greatly, but also told me this was a trick. He wouldn’t relinquish control so easily. He’d allow me to make my “escape”, only to have me snatched back by the King’s Guard, now under his control, a public display of his authority. There was no true freedom with him.

Maegor’s tunnels, a potential escape route, loomed tantalizingly behind me. If only I were alone, a simple push against the wall would send me tumbling into its dark embrace. But escape without a plan or supplies was a fool’s errand.

My mind spun, each possibility twisting the knife of despair deeper. Even if I reached my family, what awaited me there? Shame would be their welcome. Aemond, no doubt, would make sure of it.

The rain continued its relentless assault on the outside world, punctuated by the booming symphony of thunder. A flash of lightning illuminated the apartments, casting Aemond in a grotesque, menacing silhouette.

Exhaustion overwhelmed me. I slumped to the floor, seeking solace in the meager comfort of my arms wrapped around my knees. Here I was, a prisoner in this gilded cage, condemned to bear the children of a traitor until flames consumed us all.

Aemond crouched before me, his wrists resting on his knees. He regarded me with an intensity that bordered on scientific curiosity. A flicker of something, perhaps disappointment, played at his edges.

“I’d take you for many things, wife,” he cooed, the endearment dripping with veiled malice. “But weak was not one of them.” His words landed like a body blow. “If I’d known you’d crumble so easily, I would never have wed you in the first place.”

I sniffed and looked up at him, exhaustion a heavy cloak on my lids. “You did not have much of a say in the matter,” I countered.

A wicked smile twisted his lips and his head tilted to the side. “No,” he said softly. A sudden chill iced his demeanor. “And neither do you.”

He rose to his feet with predacious grace, leaving me pleated on the floor. He sauntered to his chair and seated himself, one leg propped up on his knee, his leather splaying atop the arm rests.

I watched him. His face was turned to the violent storm outside, immersed in contemplation, lightning whipping across his features. A vision of menace. A weapon poised to strike.

“So, what is your scheme, Aemond?” I started; my voice hoarse. His head turned slowly, his gaze locking onto mine with the piercing intensity of Valyrian steel. “Do you envision a period of mourning for the King, followed by a convenient acclamation in your favor? Or will you hurry along the succession and carry out the deed yourself before anyone suspects?”

A single corner of his mouth quirked into a cruel smile. “Suppose I have not yet decided.” His voice was like liquid.

Defiance flickered within me. “The court will never agree to this once they find out what you’ve done.”

Aemond hummed, a deep sound in the bottom of his chest. “Dragons don’t concern themselves with the opinions of sheep.” He leaned forward, resting his arms across his knees. “I am next in line to the throne,” he drawled. “None is better suited than I.”

I staggered to my feet and went to sit beside him. “With a legitimate heir,” I said carefully. “Your claim would be uncontested.”

He smirked, as though I’d read his mind. He leaned back, his eyes gleaming with dangerous delight.

“A woman’s pleasure is,” he began, a slow, suggestive smile playing on his lips. His blue eye drifted down my form in a way that made my skin crawl. “Of as much importance as the seed itself.”

A hot flush crept up my cheeks at his implication.

“Which is why submission must be a willing act,” he finished, his voice dropping to a husky murmur.

I swallowed, provocation crackling through me. Did he truly believe I would succumb to his advances? He seemed to think he could manipulate anyone to his will, whether through seduction or brutality, though I had yet to see the former.

“And if I refuse?” I challenged, my voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in my hands.

A low growl vibrated in his chest, his face soft. “Then you’ll find yourself counted amongst the sheep,” he drawled.

Deflating, I sighed and dipped my head. The only path forward seemed excruciatingly clear. Raising my eyes to meet his, I lifted an eyebrow in rebellion.

“Consider me sheep then.” With that, I rose from the settee and strode towards the apartment doors, the cold of the metal handle stealing the warmth from my fingers as I heaved it open.

It shut then, with a loud thud, and I jumped, a sudden heat radiating behind me. Aemond’s fingers splayed on the oak door above my head. My pulse drummed in my ears, Aemond’s lips grazing my lobe, urging it to pick up the pace.

“Jaelā naejot mazverdagon nyke jorarghutan ao, ābrazȳrys?” (You want to make me chase you, wife?) His voice rumbled into me, a low growl as potent as the thunderstorm.

The rolling, guttural words sent a strange warmth through my core. His air consumed me. A rich mixture of smoke, leather, and dragon, infiltrated my senses, intoxicating and unsettling in equal measure.

“I can’t understand you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I felt him smiling against my ear, a low chuckle reverberating into it, sending goosebumps erupting across my skin.

“You won't need to,” he said softly. His hand drifted away from the door and closed around my throat, surprisingly gentle, yet the warmth of his fingers felt like embers branding my skin. They snaked around the back of my neck, the pressure tightening as he turned me to face him. His single eye, a bottomless well of intricacy, held mine captive.

My gaze flickered down to his lips. They were curved into a wicked grin.

His scent became a suffocating presence. The heat radiating from his body, fervid as a dragon, made sweat bead on my forehead. My entire being screamed I was at his mercy. He could crush my life out with a mere squeeze, or worse, with his single eye, he could strip me bare without ever laying a hand on me.

But a strange fire flickered within me, a rebellion against his dominion. My hands, fueled by a desperate need for control, reached out and began loosening his doublet, my fingers slow and deliberate.

Aemond stilled, his eye falling to my movements. He watched, transfixed, as I unfastened the green leather halfway down his chest, then trailed my fingers lower. His gaze darkened and his breath grew uneven, as the bulge beneath his belt pressed against my touch.

A visceral desire flared within me, a response I couldn’t fully comprehend. My pulse hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, slowly drifting between my thighs at the sight of his desire.

His grip softened at my nape, and with a surge of defiance, I ripped myself free from his hold, and landed a heavy blow to his stomach. But a wave of terror washed over me when Aemond barely flinched.

Panic clawed at my throat.

Taking advantage of his momentary surprise, I flung open the chamber doors and fled, the sound of my pounding heart echoing in my ears.

AEMOND

The aftershock of her blow lingered, a dull ache radiating from my gut, while I allowed her to make her escape. Fury, a familiar companion, usually surged through me, promising retribution, suggesting to make her death appear an accident. This time, however, a different heat consumed me, a mix of surprise and… arousal.

Rarely did I misjudge a person. Yet, the meek mouse I’d wed had transformed into a daring she-wolf before my very eyes. This escape attempt, fueled by defiance, was a revelation. It made my dick hard.

A rapacious glint flickered in my eye. A grudging respect, laced with something far more primal, coiled in my gut. I had underestimated her, and the unexpected turn of events had ignited a spark within me.

A smirk twisted my lips, and I hummed with satisfaction, the thrill of the hunt coursing through me.

“Jaelā naejot tymagon?” (You want to play?) I murmured, the challenge laced with amusement. “Kesi tymagon.” (Let’s play.)

I started into the storm-ridden castle.

YOU

Immediate regret shot through me with a pang, a cold fist squeezing my breath.

To toy with a dragon was like asking to get burned.

My lungs screamed in protest, my legs burning with each step down the Red Keep’s slick stone steps. Blood, metallic and sharp, left traces in my mouth as I hoisted my cumbersome gown to avoid tripping. The castle shuddered from the storm, which groaned and wailed its onslaught. Guards stood stoic at their posts, their expressions unreadable underneath silver helms. Appealing to them was a fool’s errand.

None dared defy the one-eyed prince.

Driven by blind instinct, I found myself pushing through the massive doors of the throne room.

The Iron Throne, a monstrous silhouette of twisted blades, dominated the chamber, its edges flashing white-hot under the lightning’s fury. I stumbled towards it, chest heaving, gasping for air.

If it truly was cursed, could touching it offer some strange absolution, a release from the gilded cage that was my life? Surely, it couldn’t be worse than the fate that awaited me back in his clutches.

Ascension. My trembling legs carried me up the steps, each one a monumental effort. Reaching the top, I lingered to sit, an action so simple, yet it loomed so immensely in my mind.

“Waiting to make your peace with the gods?” came a voice, and I turned with a gasp.

Aemond stood in the middle of the room, arms slotted behind his back, approaching with slow, menacing steps, like a predator savoring the hunt. Thunder boomed overhead.

“No,” I countered, spite flaring hot in my chest. “Waiting for you to catch up so I can meet them myself,” I said, descending the steps.

“Once more, so quick to admit defeat,” he taunted, venom dripping from his words like the rain outside.

I studied his sharp features, while the burden of my reality settled like a weight in my chest. “There is no escaping you,” I gritted out, holding his heavy gaze.

His violence loomed heavy, and depravity flickered in his gaze. “Your perception waxes,” he conceded, and suddenly, the world tilted on its axis as he scooped me up and tossed me effortlessly over his broad shoulder.

The journey back to his chambers was a furious ballet of resistance. My limbs flailed wildly, desperate for purchase, and obscenities, laced with an untenable fear, ripped from my throat.

A sharp slap landed on my behind, eliciting a yelp of surprised pain.

“The more you struggle,” he growled, the sound a low rumble in his chest, “the worse it will be.”

A part of me recognized the truth in his words, yet a bestial defiance warred within, refusing to yield. Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, I lunged for his silver hair, grabbing a fistful and yanking with all my might.

He hissed through his teeth, followed by a guttural sound echoing deep within him. “Ilībōños,” (Bitch/Bastard) he cursed.

The apartment door slammed shut behind us as he entered, his movements purposeful. With a rough toss, I landed unceremoniously on the bed, the air whooshing out of my lungs on impact. Fury, a searing inferno, consumed me, each cell screaming in protest, my claws unsheathing. I wanted to hurt him.

Anything within reach became a potential weapon. Pillows, a discarded jeweled comb – I hurled them all at him, each item a silent scream of rebellion. But his movements were swift, each projectile dodged with practiced ease.

Frustration mounted, morphing into a desperate rage. I lunged at him, a clumsy attempt to push him back. But he remained immovable, an unyielding mountain. Undeterred, I pushed again, and again, fueled by a futile contempt.

Finally, as I drew back for another pointless shove, his hands shot out, lightning fast, pinning my arms to my sides. He moved swiftly, his body caging mine in a steely embrace.

“Lykirī,” he hummed, the word a low thrum against my ear.

“Fuck you,” I spat, my chest heaving from my ambush.

Did he mistake me for his winged beast that he could command to his will?

My attempt to wiggle out of his hold was a pointless endeavour. Rage crackled in my veins, but it flickered under his touch. My breath hitched as he leaned closer, the heat of his body searing through my gown. The scent of him, smoke and leather, filled my senses. And the undeniable press of his erection against my stomach sent a jolt through me.

This perverted man was enjoying my defiance. His grip tightened, a teasing hold that both frustrated and excited me. My body, traitor that it was, started to soften against him, a spark igniting beneath the embers of anger.

“Have you had your fill of my company?” he whispered, his voice husky against my ear. His hands trailed down my arms, sending shivers skittering across my skin.

Every rational part of me screamed to break free, to run for the tunnels, to fight back. But the intoxication of his touch, the heat radiating from him, the suggestive murmur against my ear – they all conspired to trap me.

Before I could think, my head slowly turned from one side to the other.

He hummed deeply. “Say it.”

Frustration warred with a strange vulnerability within me. My cheeks burned, and I clenched my jaw hard enough to taste blood.

“I haven't.”

“You haven't what?”

Fury flickered back to life, fueled by his smug grin and the realization of how easily he’d manipulated me.

“I haven't had enough,” I gritted out, the words a reluctant surrender.

A growl of satisfaction escaped him before he grasped me by my throat, pushed me back against the wall, and tasted my next breath on his tongue.

His lips, hot and demanding, devoured mine like a beggar, silencing the gasp that threatened to escape. Heat, a wildfire erupting at the junction of our bodies threatened to consume me. Fury, a simmering ember, still flickered within. I shoved against his chest and stomped on his feet; futile attempts against his unyielding form.

“Gaomagon vīlībagon nyke daor,” (Do not fight me) he said roughly against my lips, nipping at the bottom one. “Kesā botagon daor.” (You would not survive)

I didn’t understand him, and it urged on my fury. I opened my mouth with a quip in mind, but he used that opportunity to slide his tongue inside, hot and wet. The anger threatened to drown the blossoming desire, creating a tempestuous war within. I panted, torn between resistance and a strange, unfamiliar need, a fever writhing and pulsing inside my veins. My hands clenched in the rough leather of his doublet, a desperate attempt to maintain some sort of control.

I closed my teeth on his bottom lip, and he hissed sharply, encircling my throat with his hand, pushing me against the stone.

“Kelītīs,” (Stop) he growled.

The question of whether he even realized he was speaking High Valyrian was a fleeting thought. I melted into his rough hold, to his wicked mouth crashing against mine again and again, getting lost in the hot glide of his tongue. His rough kisses, the frantic press of his body, all contrived to unravel my carefully constructed defenses. A soft moan escaped my lips as my nipples brushed against his chest, sending sparks lower. He groaned low in his throat, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth.

With practiced ease, he untied the strings of my dress, letting the fabric pool around my ankles. I stood there in only my kirtle, breathless under his heated gaze. A dark groan rumbled from his chest as he slipped his hands beneath my thighs, effortlessly lifting me. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. His grip tightened on my bare flesh, a touch too rough, and I retaliated with another yank on his silver hair. An angry sound erupted in his throat as he attempted to shake off my grip.

He carried us to the bed, the world tilting on its axis as he settled me on top of him. Our mouths met in a frantic clash, a tangle of tongues and heated breaths. We tore away from each other briefly, just long enough for him to pull my kirtle over my head.

Naked and exposed, I felt a shiver dance across my skin under the intensity of his gaze. Something dark moved through his eye, and my skin prickled with goosebumps.

He gripped the swell of my hips, his palms sliding upward, a slow exploration that sent sparks igniting in my blood. The fight drained from me, replaced by a heavy languor. His fingers, surprisingly gentle for a cold-blooded killer, traced patterns across my skin, before cupping my breasts into a rough grip. A soft moan escaped my lips as his thumb brushed a nipple, and pleasure rushed to my core. He leaned in and closed his mouth over a peak, drawing it in with a slow, gentle suck. My head fell back, a groan escaping my throat. My hands filtered into his thick silver, my fingers impulsively easing off the leather tie that kept it out of his face, and it went cascading around his features like spills of moonlight.

Awe mingled with desire as I watched him continue to explore my body, his mouth leaving a trail of wet heat across my skin. I cupped his sharp face in my hands, the rational, caged side of me screaming to tear him off me. I made weak, pitiful attempts to do so, but Aemond growled his disapproval and sucked my nipple hard. The wet heat of his mouth tugged between my legs as he moved to the other, flames curling low in my stomach. I ground down on him, my wet entrance dampening the dark leather of his breeches, the friction sending a delicious heat through my core. A moan ripped from his lips.

I was on fire, a confusing mix of desire and desperation clawing at me. I needed something more, something to push me over the edge. My body moved of its own accord, grinding harder, seeking that elusive release.

He released my nipple with a graze of teeth that sent a jolt of white heat through me, and looked up at me with his eye dark like the storm.

“Skoros gaomagon jaelā?” (What do you crave?), he rumbled.

Exhaustion gnawed at me, but a visceral need pulsed deep within. “Please,” I pleaded, the word a ragged whisper escaping my lips, the frustration of the language barrier a dull ache compared to the firestorm raging in my core. “More,” I begged, grinding against his erection with desperate mewlings.

When his hand lowered to palm my pussy, my skin caught on fire, burning me from scalp to toes. Desire inflated in my throat when he ran his hand up my neck, into my hair, grabbing a fistful and using it to arch my head back, his touch both possessive and arousing.

“Is this what you desire?” he rasped against my throat, his voice husky with restrained passion. His calloused thumb began drawing circles on my clit, a slow, deliberate exploration that sent frustration battling with a rising tide of pleasure.

I nodded desperately. “Yes,” I gasped.

He slipped two fingers into my wetness, and I arched my back, groaning in pleasure and a little pain, his fingers filling me up to the brim. My hands found purchase in his hair, anchoring myself as he moved his digits, flames of pleasure licking at my walls.

Ecstasy unfurled in my veins like milk of the poppy, mind-numbing, delirious, as he slid his thick fingers in and out of me, rubbing a sensitive spot deep within. Hot pressure expanded, and my eyes rolled back in my head. A throaty moan escaped my lips with every thrust of his fingers and a delicious rumble rolled in his chest.

His grip around my hair suddenly vanished and his thumb began rubbing circles on my clit as he fingered me. I cried out, the intensity overwhelming, and I braced myself on his leather-covered shoulders, a cold sweat starting beneath my skin.

“Sholīze,” (You’re so wet), he groaned against my skin, the word a brand that sent shivers lancing through me, the heat beneath the surface threatening to erupt. I rolled my hips on his fingers, and a satisfied growl escaped his mouth, his eye dropping to witness me riding his hand as my pleasure ran down his wrist, my leg and onto his lap.

“Shkelagon zhēdys,” (You’re making a mess), he whispered into my mouth, swallowing my desperate cries.

A third finger, bold and intrusive, slid inside, the added pressure sending me over the edge. My vision swam, black dots exploding at the edges. My heart pounded to the fire searing through every nerve in my body. Throaty moans tore from my lips over and over, as I clenched around his moving fingers. He groaned with dark satisfaction, encircling my waist, pressing me against him as I rode out my orgasm.

The storm within me subsided slowly. His fingers, once urgent, now moved slowly in and out of me while I caught my breath and the ringing in my ears faded. He didn’t withdraw until he’d coaxed out the very last tremor of pleasure from my body.

A languorous warmth, a deep sense of satiation unlike anything I’d ever known, bloomed within me.

Lost in the afterglow, I trailed kisses up his neck, small noises of contentment escaping my lips.

“Gevie,” he panted, slipping his fingers out of me.

I knew that word.

Beautiful.

AEMOND

I never thought the act of making an heir would be this… riveting.

So much pure heat, flame and pleasure, fueled not just by my own desire, but by the sight of her pleasure burgeoning under my touch. It was a new prospect entirely. I could have reached my own release simply from witnessing hers.

But this was not going to make an heir, after all.

She ran her fingers over my erection, her lips and teeth teasing a line down my neck as she came down from her high. My hand, forearm and lap were slick from her sweet desire.

She settled back into my lap, a vision of post-orgasmic bliss. Her eyes, usually bright and defiant, were now hooded with languid satisfaction, her cheeks flushed a becoming crimson. Her lips, slightly parted, breathed shallowly. I pushed my thumb between them, and she met the intrusion with a beckoning glide of her tongue, the wet heat settling in my groin. I pulled my thumb free, wiping the evidence of her touch across her lips.

This woman, this force of nature, was mine. My wife.

Lightning played across her features like she was its master. Like she embodied the raw power of the storm.

Untamed, fierce, fuckable.

She was molded just for me.

Her fingers, tracing a familiar path down my doublet, encountered the bulge straining against the fabric, my dick throbbing at her faintest touch.

“Take it off,” she said, working on the buckle. I reached my hands up my neck, loosening the doublet from my frame.

“Do not attempt any strikes this time,” I drawled, a playful challenge in my voice. I relished the smile that spread across her lips.

“You have my word,” she said softly.

The leather of my arms whispered down, discarded on the floor like a shed skin. Her eyes ignited with raw desire, a flickering flame that mirrored the inferno that had been building within me. Her fingers, hesitant at first, traced a path down my chest, my abs, further, until her hand slipped beneath my breeches and over the length of my dick.

I hissed through my teeth. The heat, a branding iron searing flesh, intensified as her hand, unsure but determined, wrapped around my erection, heat curling at the base of my spine. Her hesitant touch grew more confident as she stroked me from base to head with smooth, gentle motions, sending a low groan rumbling from my chest.

I grabbed her face and grazed her chin with my teeth, making her stroke me harder. “I’ll fill you with my seed, wife,” I growled, the words rough against her skin. A promise, a threat, a declaration of possession – all rolled into one.

Her sigh held a hint of resignation, contrasting the fire in her eyes. “As long as you’ll leave me alone once you’re done,” she mumbled, the words laced with quiet defiance.

Fury, a red-hot ember, flared within me.

I threw her down on her knees on the bed and yanked her head back by her hair until her head rested against my shoulder. The vulnerability in her exposed throat fueled a dark avarice within me. My erection pressed against the heat of her ass, restraint becoming an impossible enemy.

“You’re bound to me now,” I growled in her ear, the words a possessive vow. “You’re not going anywhere.”

A ghost of a smile played on her lips, a silent challenge that both frustrated and excited me. I leaned in, whispering a single word against her ear, “Ñuhon.” (Mine) I nipped her earlobe, making her hiss.

When I released her, she sagged forward, head hanging low. Her shoulders slumped, and she lowered herself onto her hands, the curve of her backside a sight that ignited a fresh wave of heat within me.

I discarded my breeches, the urgency a physical ache in my core. Kneeling behind her, I pushed two fingers inside of her. She clenched down on me so tightly. I groaned and pulled my fingers free. As I rubbed the head of my cock against her wet opening, the heat of it almost burned me. A tremble coasted throat her, and her fingers gripped the sheets, bracing herself.

I eased into her, and, gods spare me, she was so fucking tense, to the point she nearly resisted me entirely. I caressed her ass, her hips, running my hand up and down her back, attempting to relax her, uttering words I scarcely knew were the Common Tongue or High Valyrian.

“Vīrȳn (take it), you’re so fucking wet, gūrogon mirre yno (take all of me).”

Until her walls softened and I watched myself slide into her, until I was as deep as I could go.

Seven Hells.

The feeling was overwhelming. The way she clutched me like a wet fist. Every cell in me ached for more, to fuck her hard, relentlessly, but I gave her a moment to adjust, squeezing her, running my hands all over her.

Soon, she was rocking back against me, and I gave her what she wanted, pulling out all the way before slowly pushing back in, every inch of me vanishing. She groaned and dropped her face to the bed, fisting the sheets in her hands. I gripped the swell of her hips, guiding her warm, wet pussy onto my throbbing dick over and over, watching their salacious union, my sight darkening at the squelching sounds that ensued. A deep hum erupted from my chest.

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes hooded with lust, settling on each lazy thrust.

“Iksis ao bisa ijiōrtan?” (Is this pleasing you?) I rasped, but before she could answer, I fucked her a little harder. It occurred to me that she probably could not have understood what I’d been saying half the time.

Her head fell forward, and the sight of her biting down on her hand to quiet her moans sent a heady rush to my head, lighting me on fire.

Thunder rolled overhead.

I was completely lost in the heat of her, taking her hard, watching her ass bounce against me with every thrust. I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back against my chest.

She was panting, fucked into soft compliancy.

“To whom do you belong?” I growled in her ear.

She didn’t resist any of my advances this time. “You,” she breathed.

“Say my name.”

“Aemond.”

“And who is your King?”

“Aemond.”

My grip snaked and tightened around her neck as I fucked her.

“Say it.”

“You’re the King, Your Grace,” she whined. “The first of your name.”

It set me on fire.

I pushed her back down and fucked her through her second orgasm, holding her hips up when her legs gave out. She shuddered and clenched around me, the pressure sending licking fires down my back, threatening to erupt. I gritted my teeth as I came inside of her, a white, hot fire shooting through me so hard, my vision went black.

My muscles shook from the aftershock.

I doubled over her, letting my forehead rest on her back as we came down.

When I pulled out of her, I watched my seed leak out of her entrance like white tears. I plugged it with my fingers, burrowing deep inside of her, and she gasped.

“Dragonseed is precious,” I rumbled into her ear. “Would not want it to go to waste.” I kissed her temple.

“Tepagon aōha dārys iā dārilaros, dōna ābrazȳrys.” (Give your king an heir, sweet wife)

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spideyjimin · 2 months ago

Text

effet mer | jjk

⤷ effet mer, french for sea effect, but it’s a play on word. effet mer and éphémère are pronounced the same way in french and éphémère stands for ephemeral.

⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader

⏤ genre: best friend's brother, kinda strangers to lovers, roommates au, angst, fluff, and smut

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ words: 11,197

⏤ summary: everything we face in life is ephemeral, nothing stays forever, even the bad. when you and your roommate, jungkook, face devastating breakups, you leave everything to spend some days at the beach holding the world’s record of the highest waves. it brings you comfort but also brings you closer as you get to truly know each other.

⏤ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, mention of cheating, mention of breakups, jungkook and oc are completely broken, mention of sex, teasing, a lot of making out, nipple play, mention of nipple sucking, face riding, oral sex (f & m receiving), hair pulling, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, tattooed!jungkook, praising, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, riding, missionary, doggy style, creampie, multiple orgasms, and overstimulation

⏤ author’s note: here it is the little fic 🤗 i had a lot of fun writing this, especially since i’m talking about a place very dear to me & also since i get to promote a bit of my culture in a fic (a first time for me). as a portuguese, this is very special & i think this fic will hold a special place in my heart 💞 hope you’ll enjoy it & let me know what you think ✨

Nazaré (check out this video so you get to visualize the little town)

MASTERLIST | MOODBOARD

The waves.

The crashing of the waves against the sturdy rock and soft sand is the only sound echoing in your ears. It brings an immense sense of comfort, the only sound calming your tormented soul. Coming here, you knew it would quiet the turmoil within your mind.

The sight of the waves colliding against the monumental rock also brings peace. It’s thrilling to see what Mother Nature can do. The waves are incredibly high and powerful, offering you and any person present a wonderful show. For years, you wished to come see those impressive waves but never got the chance.

What brings you here is your roommate, Jungkook, who’s also the older brother of your best friend, Joongki. You’ve been living under the same roof for five years already. You were looking for a bed during your college years, he was looking for a roommate, and Joongki put you together.

Even though you’ve been living together for a long time, you barely know each other. Jungkook is a night owl, basically living at night, and during the day, whenever he’s awake, he’s at his girlfriend’s place. Well, ex-girlfriend now. On your side, you’d also spend a tremendous amount of time with your boyfriend in and out of the apartment. Well, your now ex-boyfriend.

Your ex-boyfriend and his ex-girlfriend are what brought you and Jungkook here. His girlfriend was cheating on him while your boyfriend didn’t love you anymore.

It’s hard. Way too hard.

Amid your pain, Jungkook proposed to drop everything for a couple of days and go to a place you both have always desired to visit. Praia do Norte (North Beach in English). It’s a beach located in Portugal, in Nazaré to be precise. The city isn’t far from the capital, Lisbon.

This coastal town is known for its massive waves, some of which can reach heights over 100 feet - 30 meters during winter time.

Years ago, you spent some days with your friends in Nazaré in July. It was already a breathtaking place. You saw pictures everywhere of the impressive waves. After that, it became your dream to see them. Life happened and you never got to go there.

Jungkook, on his side, heard of this place through a documentary he once watched. Throughout his entire relationship with his ex, he proposed her to travel to that town, but she never was really interested.

Randomly, through a very rare conversation, you found out about your mutual interest in Nazaré. Then, when your hearts got broken, you found yourselves being locked up in the apartment, crying like babies. Jungkook suggested the coastal town, and you embarked on this little journey together.

As a wave is forming in the sea, you grab your phone to record it. Although you foresee it to be impressive, it exceeds all your expectations. It’s breathtaking, and by far, the prettiest natural event your eyes have ever witnessed.

“Woow,” you say while firmly holding your phone in your hands.

You’re completely mesmerized by the impressive wave, you forget about everything. It’s just you and the wave. It’s an incredible feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a while. Being here genuinely brings you comfort to your soul.

Slowly, you turn your head to look at the person who brought you here, Jungkook. He’s also looking at the sea with the same face as yours, and it makes you smile. There’s not much you know about this man. Sometimes you wonder how he is like. Everything you know about him, you’ve heard it from Joongki. It’s quite odd that you don’t really know anything about your roommate but it has always been fine for you like that.

“That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Jungkook says with evident bliss in his eyes.

Jungkook and Joongki are quite similar. Physically, you mean. They share the same pair of doe eyes, the same eye and hair color, the same facial shape, and the same smile. A lot of people mistake them for twins because they really look a lot like each other.

The first time you saw Jungkook, you also thought it was your best friend’s twin. But as time passed, you noticed how different they can be. Jungkook clearly looks older than his brother, he’s after all three years older than Joongki.

“Couldn’t agree more with you”, you tell him with your eyes still on him.

For the past three months, you’ve been wondering how his ex-girlfriend could have cheated on him. He’s clearly a good-looking man, and on top of that, he doesn’t seem like a bad guy. You’re not sure to understand in general how someone can cheat. Wouldn’t it be easier to simply say: “I want to be with someone else”? At least, your ex had the decency to say it.

You chase away those thoughts before crying in front of thousands of people, and especially before ruining your entire trip.

Your eyes look again at the sea. It’s slowly getting colder. As time passes, the sea looks more and more furious, the waves are only getting bigger and bigger, and as they hit the rock, water is thrown at your faces.

You’re fully covered to try to protect yourself as much as possible from the water, but it seems not enough. But it’s incredible to be here.

“Do you want to stay any longer?” Jungkook asks while he turns his head to you.

With your roommate, you’ve been watching the waves for already two hours although it doesn’t feel like it. you look down at your phone to check what time it is. It’s already 6:45 pm. As you’ve booked a table for 7:30 pm at a restaurant, it’s probably best to get going. Given the long road to the restaurant, you must leave to ensure you’re on time.

“I don’t think so,” you answer. “We still need to walk to the restaurant and it might take some time,” your eyes look around as you think about the fact you still have to walk for a bit. “And I made a reservation at 7:30 pm for tonight, so it’s best to keep going.”

Jungkook simply nods, agreeing with you. Slowly, you turn around and walk away from the waves. You look behind you one last time to admire a wave crashing against the impressive rock.

Jungkook has yet to learn where the restaurant is. He’s never been in this town while you have. So he doesn’t have much choice but to follow you around. On top of it, you’re the one who made the reservation so for sure, you know where the restaurant is.

If someone had told him five years ago he’d be in Nazaré with his new roommate, he would have never believed it. Probably, he would have laughed at their face. Outside the fact that you’re his little brother's best friend, he doesn’t know much about you. It has never bothered him not to know you.

However, since you’re both single, things are different. You’ve been talking and even traveling abroad together. Presumably, traveling with a stranger isn’t the best idea but he fundamentally trusts you. You’re not completely a stranger to him, but there’s very little if nothing he knows about you.

But he doesn’t mind. After all, you’re both here to enjoy the impressive waves.

Nazaré’s downtown is made of tiny streets which gives its charm. Based on the info he found about the town, it’s the typical type of street in Portugal. So far, he has been loving this town. For sure, the waves are quite a big deal, but the coastal town is captivating. He loves everything about Nazaré, and he’s only been here for a day.

The people are also extremely nice and always smiling even though sometimes it’s hard to communicate with them since they only speak Portuguese. But there’s always a way to understand each other. He’s genuinely happy to be here, and he’s already thinking about coming back more frequently, maybe even during summertime to discover the town from another perspective. It must be so different from wintertime.

After a long walk, you finally reach the restaurant located on a very small street. Jungkook is definitely falling in love with this city. Right now, he’s kind of grateful he never came with his ex otherwise it would have been excruciating to be here. Most probably, he wouldn’t be here today with you.

You enter the restaurant, and a man comes in your direction. “Olá,” he firstly says. Based on the very limited words he got to learn in the past 24 hours, Jungkook knows that ‘olá’ is the portuguese equivalent of ‘hello’.

“Olá,” you answer in portuguese. “We have a reservation for 2 under the name y/l/n,” you continue in english.

“Let me quickly check,” he moves to a little piece of furniture at the entrance composed of some books and a cash register.

Jungkook takes a look at the restaurant. It’s very small but definitely very charming.

“Follow me, please,” says the waiter when he comes back to you.

The waiter shows you a little table on the left corner of the restaurant. This very cozy place is already crowded, most definitely a popular place to be in Nazaré.

“Here are the menus,” he hands you both menus.

“They do fantastic pizzas here,” you say once the waiter leaves. “I came here once with my friends and promised myself I’d come here again.”

“Let’s see,” a little smile appears on Jungkook’s face.

For a hot minute, he stares at you while you look down at the menu.

Since the moment, he met you he always believed his little brother was in love with you. He couldn’t stop talking about you with such a spark in his eyes. However, as time went by, he realized he was wrong, or at least partially. His eyes have a spark because he adores you as a friend and because you seem to be a wonderful person. There is something about you that is appealing, Jungkook won’t deny it.

In the past 24 hours, he’s got to learn a bit more about you. Even though it’s pretty obvious you’re still trying to get over a breakup, you’ve been immensely excited to be here and show him around the places you know. And he’s been lucky to see a bright spark in your eyes. You’re without any doubt in love with this coastal town, he can tell that.

The pizzas were, as you remember, fucking delicious. Jungkook even admitted it afterward.

Funnily enough, during dinner, you got to discuss with the owner, who was also acting as a waiter. He’s actually french. He came here once, fell in love with the town, and decided to move here. He then opened this restaurant with his mother, and luckily, it’s always crowded. It can be calmer during periods but it’s always for a short time.

“Not sure I’ll want to come back home after this stay,” Jungkook tells you as you’re making your way to the little apartment you’re staying in.

“Me neither,” you say.

The only thought of leaving this place breaks your heart. Once you get back home, reality will hit you. You’ll once more be reminded of your lost love. Maybe the pain will be more bearable as you’ve taken some time for yourself here in Nazaré.

The rest of the walk until the apartment is made in silence while you look around. Everything about this place screams perfection. The people, the food, the views, the tiny houses, the sea, and everything else. Nazaré will now be your safe place on earth. It’ll be the place you’ll always look forward to coming again. Strangely, it feels like you belong here.

When you’re not very far from the apartment, it starts raining, and not just a bit. The two of you put the hood of your jackets on your heads.

“Let’s run to the apartment?” Jungkook asks.

The only answer you gave him is starting to run.

“Eeeh,” he screams while he starts running after you. “Wait for me.”

A little chuckle escapes your lips when you hear him complain. Since you run in the opposite direction of the rain, it hits you right in the face. It’s not pleasant at all, but you’ll soon reach the place you’re renting. But running in the middle of those tiny streets with Jungkook behind you makes you feel alive.

In a matter of seconds, Jungkook catches you. For a brief moment, you look at each other with the brightest smiles on your faces. You’re both feeling the same, you know it. Your roommate grabs your hand while you keep running under the heavy rain. He holds your hand tightly in his, the warmth of his hand contrasting with the cold weather outside.

Feeling his hand in yours unimaginably warms your heart.

When you reach the apartment, you both stop at the main entrance. Briefly, you’re standing face to face, breathing hard, and staring deep into each other’s eyes. Over the years, you didn’t really have the opportunity to see him up close, but lately, it feels like you’ve only been physically close.

This closeness has allowed you to really look at him. Although Jungkook looks a lot like your best friend, he’s more attractive, charming, and alluring. This man can have any woman he desires, but he chooses not. It’s understandable due to his recent breakup. But based on how Joongki speaks about him, he’s never been a womanizer. He’s more of an ‘i want a long-term relationship’ guy.

Jungkook’s hand brushes a strand of hair falling on your face. The simple touch of his fingers against your skin sends shivers down your spine. The two of you don’t cease to stare into each other eyes. This simple and intimate moment is something you never thought would happen five years ago.

Well, even yesterday, you never thought it’d happened.

You’re interrupted by someone leaving the apartment complex standing in front of you. By reflex, you take a step back, creating some space between you and Jungkook. The person greets you before disappearing behind you.

Before the main entrance door closes, Jungkook takes a big step to keep it open. “After you,” he smiles at you while he gestures for you to come inside the complex. A smile spreads across your face as you make your way inside. When you pass by him, you take in his strong perfume. He smells so good.

Joongki’s brother follows you, closing the door behind him. The apartment is located on the first floor so luckily, you only have to climb a few steps. You hurry up because you only want to be warm.

Once in front of the door, you take the keys from your pocket. Your winter jacket contains a massive pocket on the inside. You’ve placed all your important belongings like your phone, ID Card, bank card, and the keys. At least you’re sure you won’t lose anything nor anything won’t be stolen.

Once inside, the first thing you do is remove your jackets, and shoes. It’s a bit warmer inside but you still need to turn on the heating. The two of you head to the small living room.

The place you rent isn’t big, but it’s enough for you. There’s no need to have a massive apartment for two people. Two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom are largely enough. No need for more.

The owner of the apartment left some portuguese liqueurs for you to enjoy. He advised you to start with ‘Licor Beirão’. As the owner said, it’s a sweet liqueur that tastes like orange. You haven’t tasted it yet but tonight you feel like you really want to.

“Do you want to taste the famous liqueur the owner advises us to taste?” you ask Jungkook as you grab the bottle from a wardrobe.

For a brief moment, Jungkook simply watches you while you hold the bottle in your hand. The look he gives you makes you feel a bit special as it is the same look he gave you at the complex entrance.

“Why not,” he replies with a smile.

Your roommate goes to the kitchen to grab two glasses. He remembers that the owner told you to put a cube of ice in your drink to make it even better. He said: “Licor Beirão without ice tastes like shit.” A smirk appears on his face when he recalls those words.

When he comes back with the glasses, you don’t waste any second to poor a bit of liqueur. You hand one of the glasses to your roommate and take the other. While you both take a seat on the couch, you take a sip of your drink.

“Fuck,” Jungkook says. “It’s delicious.”

A little laugh escapes your lips as you hear him slobber about the drink. Your eyes wander a tiny bit on his face.

“Indeed,” you say.

It’s certainly not bad at all. It’s also not that strong for a liqueur, maybe the sweetness hides the hardness of the alcohol. Probably, you won’t be drinking much since you don’t really want to end up drunk in front of Jungkook. You’ll for sure embarrass yourself.

“This will definitely warm me after this cold rain,” Jungkook says while taking another sip.

You put your drink down on the coffee table before sitting properly on the couch and placing a blanket on top of your legs.

“It’s still unbelievable that we’re here,” you tell him.

“Yep, yep,” he nods and takes another sip. “I would have never bet that one day, I’d travel with you.” He puts down his drink next to yours and sits closer to you.

This closeness is something you still need to adjust to. It’s so new.

“Me neither,” you say. “I actually never pictured myself traveling with someone else than Guwon,” you almost whisper at the end of the sentence.

Guwon was your boyfriend for more than five years. You were dreaming of starting a family with him, seriously considering moving in with him and already discussing marriage. You were madly in love with him and you strongly believed that he was your forever person. But you got it all wrong.

One day, out of the blue, he told you that he didn’t love you anymore. It devastated you beyond comprehension. You begged for an explanation because how can someone fall out of love? It was inconceivable for you that after all that time, he stopped loving you. He didn’t give you an explanation, he just said he didn’t love you anymore.

However, everything made sense when you found out he was dating a colleague shortly after your breakup. When that colleague joined the company he’s working for, you still remember that he wouldn’t stop talking about her. He praised her so much. Until one day, he stopped doing it. But right after, he told you he didn’t love you anymore so no need to be a genius to understand he started loving her.

It hurt even more.

“I also never thought I’d be one day traveling with someone else than Yoojung,” he adds.

You bring your legs against your chest and you look down for a little bit. There are so many questions you want to ask him about his breakup but you’re not sure it’s appropriate.

“Can I ask you a question?” you dare to say.

Jungkook simply nods while looking at you.

“How did you find out about the cheating?”

Your roommate is taken aback by your question. As you notice the expression on his face, you instantly realize that you crossed a line. Now you regret your question.

“Sorry…” Before you can even continue your sentence, Jungkook replies to your question.

“A couple of months before, we stopped being intimate,” he starts saying while looking down. “Every time I’d try to initiate anything, she’d give me an excuse. Most of the time, it’d be tiredness. Then, we slowly started not to see or even text each other as often.”

His eyes now look up, meeting yours filled with sadness and empathy. The same gaze you gave him when he informed you of his separation.

“At first, I didn’t really notice it, but when people started asking me about her, I’d never be able to give them an answer. So I started to realize something was off.”

You can hear in his voice how it still breaks him.

“One day, I simply went to her place without informing her, and that’s when I saw the other guy.”

Now, your heart breaks for him. In an act of kindness, you grab his hand and squeeze it. Jungkook looks down at your hands, and you gently stroke the back of his hand with your fingers. From the way he suddenly glances at you, you can tell that the gesture moves him.

“That must have been horrible,” you softly say.

The man in front of you simply nods.

“Thankfully, I didn’t see anything that would have destroyed me but you could tell by the way they were looking at each other that they were at least sleeping together. She confessed it afterwards and I left her.”

Definitely, you want to hug this man. It’s so heartbreaking what he went through. It’s never easy to find out to have a cheating partner. Even though you never considered Guwon to have cheated on you, you wonder if he didn’t. Maybe he kissed his colleague or even went further and left you afterward.

“Apparently she’s with that guy now, but I don’t care,” he tells you. “I prefer to ignore what she’s doing now and who she’s with.”

You couldn’t agree more with him. She and Guwon have broken your hearts enough, no need to torture yourselves in knowing what they are doing now.

“All I care is to heal,” he whispers.

You caress his hand with your thumb. Although you’re doing it to comfort him, it also has the same effect on you.

“Looks like you’re going in the right direction,” you tell him with a little smile. “You didn’t cry.”

Barely a week ago, he wasn’t able to say her name without falling apart. It’s a big step into healing.

A very tiny smile spreads across his face when he realizes that you’re right. He didn’t cry while talking about the most heartbreaking moment he faced in life.

“You’re right,” he grabs his drink to take a sip. “It’s even better now with the ice,” he totally changes the topic of conversation.

You can’t blame him, talking about his cheating ex isn’t pleasant. Plus, you’re here to try to move on from the terrible things Guwon and Yoojung did.

“Let me taste,” Jungkook hands you your drink before you can even bend to get it from the table. “Thanks,” you whisper with a little shy smile.

Your roommate winks at you as a way to say ‘you’re welcome’, but oddly, it increases the heat of the room. Very quickly, you drink a bit of the liquor. It instantly cools off a bit the warmth you’re feeling inside you due to Jungkook.

The liqueur definitely tastes better with ice. The owner was right. Well, you never doubt it since he’s portuguese and knows his country better than anyone else. You’re looking right in front of you since you’re feeling Jungkook’s eyes on you. You’re not brave enough to face him because you know your cheeks will instantly turn red.

“You know,” he starts saying. “For a long time, I was convinced you and my brother were in love,” you almost choke with your drink when you hear those words. “You’d always be together, almost acting like a couple, but then I found out you were in a relationship so it changed my perspective,” he adds. “Also with time, I realized that it was your way to be friends.”

You’ve been friends with Joongki for more or less six years, but only a couple of months later, you got to actually meet Jungkook. Of course, you’d already heard a lot about him since your best friend would mention him a lot, but he was living abroad back then.

And well, if you’re a hundred percent honest, you had a crush on Joongki when you met him. How could you not? Joongki is very good-looking, he’s funny, he’s adorable, and, beyond anything else, he has the biggest heart on earth. Then, that crush eventually faded, and you met Guwon so everything changed.

However, you’re never going to say anything about this crush, especially to Jungkook.

Nevertheless, your reaction intrigues your roommate. Your eyes widen, you take a big sip of the liquor, and you try to hide your face.

“You actually liked my brother,” he points out with evident playfulness in his voice.

“No,” you immediately retort.

Obviously, it’s a lie. You’re trying as much as possible to hide yourself but it’s basically impossible. Jungkook is right next to you.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I won’t tell him anything, it’s none of my business.”

You finally look up at him, and for fuck’s sake, he looks stunning. You take another sip. At this pace, your drink will be over in 30 seconds, and you’ll be drunk by then since you don’t know how strong this liqueur is.

“I’m sure he had a crush on you too at first,” he smiles at you.

Jungkook gets closer to you, his breath crashing against your neck once he’s very close. Your heart starts acting crazy inside your chest, your heartbeat increasing drastically. You’re both staring at each other, and his eyes are very dark.

“I mean I would too if I was Joongki,” he whispers in your ear.

Fuck, this man manages to cause goosebumps all over your body in a matter of seconds. His eyes look up at you, the mood has completely changed. It’s not anymore casual, it’s really giving the ‘i want to kiss you’ vibes. But as you think better about this, it has changed the second it started to rain.

His eyes switch from your lips to your eyes a couple of times. Without any doubt, you do the same, you even bite your lower lip. You’re definitely desperate to kiss each other. There’s absolutely no doubt.

Still, you’re unsure if you really want this to happen. You enjoy being here with Jungkook and getting to know him better, but once you kiss, everything between you will change forever. He wouldn’t simply be your roommate and your best friend’s brother anymore.

Nevertheless, there’s nothing you want more right now.

You want to know how it feels to be kissed by him, and how it feels to kiss someone with a lip piercing. Your imagination is going wild at the moment.

You clear your throat and take a step back while placing your hands on his chest. “We can’t,” you shake your head. “It’s not a good idea.”

Jungkook nods before simply sitting on the couch as he was before. You take a deep breath, trying to gather yourself after this rather intense moment.

Jungkook stares at the ceiling of the bedroom he’s staying in. His mind keeps repeating the moment he almost kissed you. It was quite clear you wanted it as well, but he still doesn’t understand why you push him away. He wonders if it’s maybe too soon for you. Maybe you don’t want to kiss someone else three months after your breakup.

He sighs. Hopefully, this moment won’t create tension or something like that between you for the rest of your stay. It’s not what he wanted.

Suddenly, he is pulled out of his reverie when he hears a shy knock on the door. He frowns before standing up to open the door. He’s greeted by your sleepy face and messy hair. A little smile appears on his face because he can’t help but find you adorable.

“I can’t fall asleep,” you tell him while rubbing your eyes. “Can I sleep with you?”

Well, now that you’re here asking him to sleep here, he’s sure that he didn’t ruin anything. It’s definitely a relief for him.

“Yes, yes,” he says while opening the door a little wider.

Without hesitation, you enter the room and he closes the door behind you. He makes his way to the bed before you lay next to him. At first, you put some distance between you two since you’re both unsure what to do. On top of that, you’re both looking at the ceiling as if you’re scared to look at each other. Jungkook can feel his heart beating fast inside his chest. He has never been this nervous to be around a woman that he likes.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you tell him while turning your face to look at him.

Honestly, this surprises him. “About what exactly?” Obviously, he knows what you’re referring to but he still wants you to say it out loud.

“When I pushed you away.”

Jungkook ignores what he can say right now.

“Don’t be sorry,” those are the only words crossing his mind.

Still, you keep talking as if he didn’t say anything. “I really wanted to kiss you.” His heart beats even faster now. “But if we do it, it will change everything between us, and I’m not sure I want that.”

Well, he’s glad you explained why you pushed him away although you didn’t need to. You have your reasons and he can only accept that. Jungkook turns now to his right to finally see your face. You look angelic from this perspective.

“Why so?” he dares to ask.

For what feels like an eternity, you don’t talk, probably thinking about the proper answer to give him. His heart is still hammering very fast in his chest, nervous about your answer. This silence feels heavy for him, but all he can do is remain patient.

“Honestly, I don’t really have a reason,” you say when you break the silence. “Up until now, we were simply roommates and you were Joongki’s brother,” you take a deep breath. “And it was fine like that.” Jungkook’s eyes deviate for a split second to your lips while you speak. “However, everything is different since we came here. You aren’t really a stranger anymore, I got to know you better and to spend good moments with you.”

Jungkook couldn’t agree more with you. No matter what, when you go back home, your relationship and dynamic will forever be different. In a good way, though. As you mentioned, you’re no longer strangers now.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for more changes in my life,” you confess while biting your lower lip.

But the changes are already happening.

“I totally understand you, yn,” he simply answers.

Well, the only change Jungkook wants right now is your relationship. It’s evolving in interesting ways and he doesn’t want to hold back this shift between you.

"A lot has already happened this past few months,” he adds.

For sure, he prefers things would have happened differently but what can he do? This year has been too chaotic. Being here in Nazaré right now is the only thing that has been able to calm him down. Just for a moment, he can cut himself off the reality to truly rest and heal.

Slowly, you get closer to him. You only stop when he can feel your hot breath crashing against his face. You’re super super close now. His eyes roam your pretty face, admiring it as much as he can under the light of the night. How could he not notice before how beautiful you are?

“But the more I think about it, the more I get desperate to kiss you,” your words echo in the room. This is as well unexpected for him. “I’m not sure of anything but fuck, I crave nothing more than to feel your…”

Before you can even finish your sentence, your roommate crashes his lips against yours. You’re caught by surprise at first, but then, you kiss him back with the same passion. Although it’s a passionate kiss, it’s very soft at first. Jungkook doesn’t want to rush anything, he wants to enjoy this moment. His left hand moves to your cheek, caressing it.

The kiss is so passionate and deep. Jungkook's lips are soft against yours like he is scared to break you as he kisses you. But they feel good on yours, it’s as if they were meant to kiss you.

As he’s kissing you, he regrets not having noticed you before. You’re hot, good-looking, intelligent, and above anything else, a wonderful person. For sure, he was in love with Yoojung, but he should have seen you before.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate one second when you part your lips to let his tongue meet yours. Your tongues meet for an erotic and slow dance. This is intense, but so fucking good.

Out of breath, you break the kiss but your roommate’s hand remains on your cheek. You close your eyes briefly, and his eyes stay on you. Even though you’re not kissing anymore, he still can sense your lips on his.

Jungkook pushes you against him, your head against his toned chest. He places his head on top of yours after pressing a gentle kiss on your head. He’s not sure about what will happen from now on, but he’s certain of one thing, he doesn’t want to let you go.

Shortly after, you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Slowly, you open your eyes. The sun irradiates the room and at first, you close your eyes again as the sun is way too bright.

While you move in the bed, you rub your eyes before opening them again. Gradually, you perceive the figure lying in bed next to you. A smile spreads across your face when you realize it’s Jungkook.

The man is looking at you with the brightest smile on his face. He seems happier than ever. You haven’t seen him like that since his split with his ex-girlfriend. That alone makes you smile even more.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Good morning to you too,” you reply.

For a moment, you remain in silence, looking simply at each other. This right here definitely makes you happy. You don’t need anything else. Well, you still want to go watch the impressive waves, but you can stay here a little longer.

“How was your night?” he asks.

“Good,” you start saying. “I guess all I needed was a kiss to fall asleep,” the biggest smile appears on his absolutely handsome face.

“Well, you should try that more often,” he teasingly says.

“For sure,” you exclaim.

You’re sure that right now, you both look like idiots with the happiest smiles on your faces. You get closer to Jungkook before pressing a gentle peck against his lips. The feeling of the cold metal of his piercing against your lips sends shivers all over your body. It’s quite special to kiss someone with a lip piercing, it’s a first time for you, but it doesn’t change anything about the fact that he kisses like a god. Actually, you’d say that with the piercing it makes the kiss even more intense.

The man in front of you presses another peck on your lips before pressing a thousand others more, causing you to giggle. This sound, you haven’t heard it in months, and you’re grateful Jungkook is responsible for it.

Then, the kisses move to your cheeks, your forehead, your jaw, the corner of your lips, and finally, they start to descend to your neck. You can feel his round nose pressed against your neck as his lips kiss your skin. Instantly, your hands move to his hair to play with it. A very soft and barely audible moan escapes your lips.

This jovial and playful moment has turned into a very heated one.

Jungkook’s lips keep going down, dangerously getting closer to your cleavage. Your breath is getting heavier, your heart beating faster, and your eyes fluttering shut. As he gets closer and closer, soft moans leave your lips, indicating to Joongki’s brother that he’s doing everything well.

Before he even reaches your breasts, he retreats to take a look at your pretty face. When you feel the cold air brushing against your skin, you open your eyes to watch him. His teeth are now playing with the metal ring on his lips while his eyes are clearly devouring you. Dam, this is turning you on.

“Do we keep going?”

You’re about to answer when suddenly, his phone starts buzzing. Someone is trying to call him. He turns around to check who’s calling him.

“It’s Joongki,” he says before answering.

Jungkook sits on the bed, and you do exactly the same. The call doesn’t last long, your roommate barely talks, it’s mostly your best friend talking, you can hear it. Once he puts his phone down, he looks at you.

“He tried to call you, but since you weren’t answering, he was getting worried,” he tells you.

You only nod. “Maybe I should go call him,” you say.

“Well,” Jungkook says as his face gets closer to yours once more. “Maybe you could call him later,” he teasingly says. “He interrupted something.”

A smile appears on your face before you kiss him with evident passion. For sure, your best friend interrupted something, and he can wait because you’re slowly but surely getting desperate for his brother.

“He can probably wait a little bit longer,” you whisper against his lips.

Your teeth bite his lower lip, causing him to moan. That sound alone makes you grow wetter inside your panties. His hands move down to your waist, and before you can even comprehend, they are pushing your pajama pants down your legs.

Once they are at your ankle, his lips hungrily kiss you. You’re definitely desperate for this man. You want more. You don’t simply want to be kissed by this man. You want him to rail the shit out of you. Hopefully, he’s good in bed.

While eagerly kissing each other, you lay down in bed. Jungkook is now hovering over you, his mouth still on yours. By reflex, your legs open to welcome him after removing your pants with your feet. He presses his hips against yours, his growing bulge now against your wet core. That sensation alone makes you moan.

Teasingly, he slowly rolls his hips against yours, but he doesn’t stop kissing you as a desperate man. You hold his pajama shirt firmly as you moan against his lips. Without any doubt, your panties are getting soaked. Jungkook is fucking you when you’re still fully clothed.

His lips finally set free from yours so he can rest his forehead against yours. His lusty eyes stare deep into yours which causes you to moan. Your walls clench around emptiness, but you’re slowly getting desperate to feel something inside you.

Jungkook’s hips stop moving only for him to speak. “Sit on my face,” he says. “But first, remove your underwear, angel,” he adds.

No need to be a genius to understand that he wants to eat you out while you sit on his face. It’s something you never tried before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. However, you desire nothing more than being eaten out by this man so you do as he says so.

In a matter of seconds, you throw your underwear onto the floor. Jungkook moves to be now lying down in bed with an eager smile on his face. He bites his lower lip when he sees your core.

“I’ve never done that before,” you confess when you get closer to him.

“Okay,” he nods. “All you have to do is sit on my face and enjoy the ride, love,” he tells you.

The little cute nicknames make your heart flutter.

You place yourself over his head, your heart pounding fast. You feel a bit shy to have your pussy on full display on his face.

“Nice,” he tells you. “Now, bring yourself closer to my face,” you do as he says so, his hands grabbing your thighs to guide you down against his face. “Perfect,” his hot breath tickles your core which makes you move a tiny bit.

The sweet scent of your arousal makes him hungry, causing him to lick his lips. “Your cunt smells so good, yn,” he whispers against your core.

His nose brushes against your core, a small moan leaving your lips at the feeling. As he hears the barely audible moan, he deliberately breathes against your throbbing core, the cool air sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, you grow wetter which gives him more juices to lap. A smirk grows on his face when he notices it.

Before you can even process what is happening, he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking at it. The coldness of his lip piercing and the tickling of his nose on your core instantly send goosebumps throughout your entire body. Little moans leave your lips while he starts to torture you with his mouth. It surprises you how cold his piercing is.

This is by far the best oral sex experience you’ve ever had. First of all, nobody else has ever eaten you out like that. And on top of that, you’re wondering how on earth you’ve never done it this way. In this position, it feels like you can sense everything even more.

Automatically, you bury your hand in Jungkook’s hair, pulling it as he laps your sensitive clit with his tongue. A groan rumbles from his chest, the sound echoing against your skin. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of having his nose in your core. He makes sure to take his time as he wants you to grow wetter and wetter, he doesn’t want to rush things because he wants you two to enjoy this moment.

After a little while, he buries his tongue in your hole, causing an explosion of fireworks inside you. The man laps at your arousal as if his life was at stake. His eyes glance up at you, enjoying the way your body is contorting with delight. An evil smirk appears on his face while he keeps lapping at your juices. Your back arches, causing you to push your pussy closer to his mouth, and a trail of moans escapes your pretty lips.

“So pretty,” Jungkook mutters against your core.

Naturally, you start rolling your hips over his head, your hand running and pushing your hair back in order to not stick against your face as you start to sweat. The moans get louder as the wave of pleasure begins to strongly build within your lower stomach, his ears hissing at the sweet but loud sounds.

His eyes glance down with marvel at your core. Everything about you is extremely wonderful.

Jungkook senses the orgasm building stronger inside you at an extremely fast pace. Your body is moving more and more, your walls are clenching way too much, and your moans are also getting high-pitched. The man starts to suck harder on your core to make you come all over his face. That’s all he wishes for right now.

Your free hand goes to the headboard of the bed to hold yourself onto something. The man below you is sucking and lapping every single drop of your arousal, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. It’s a matter of seconds before you come undone all over his face.

“Jungkook,” you mutter as your hips desperately roll over his face.

The man underneath you detaches his mouth when your legs start shaking, indicating that your orgasm is finally hitting you intensely. His name leaves your mouth when the wave of pleasure explodes inside you, your back arching even more, and you close your eyes to enjoy every second of it.

Your arousal leaks over his pretty lips while he watches with marvel at the way you come over his face. This man is without any doubt very skilled with his mouth and tongue. Not only does he kiss well, but he also knows how to bring pleasure.

Jungkook moves under you, your core now pressed against his covered chest. It takes you a moment to come down from your high, he can even feel your walls clenching against his toned chest. His hands caress your hips, trying to bring you comfort as you come down. His eyes never leave your pretty face.

He swears he has never seen any prettier woman.

His hands are caressing your thighs as he admires you. Your cheeks are red, your hair is a complete mess, and your pretty lips are swollen from the intense making out that happened minutes ago.

When you realize that you’re dirtying his pajama with your arousal, you stand up but his strong hands firmly hold you tight against him. “What are you doing?” he asks with obvious confusion.

“I’m dirtying your pajamas,” you answer.

“Don’t worry about that, angel,” he winks at you.

Since you don’t want to make his pajamas dirtier and you want to give him pleasure, you move your body down on his. This time around, he realizes what you’re about to do. The simple thought of feeling your hand around him makes him grow harder.

Without an ounce of hesitation, you push down his pajamas pants with his underwear. He raises his hips to help you out, and you throw them on the floor. Once his cock is freed, it slaps against his shirt.

Your eyes instantly glance down at the beast between his legs. He is massive. Even massive is probably an understatement. For sure, he holds the record for the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. In a matter of seconds, Jungkook takes the last piece of clothing off his body to be fully naked in front of you.

You patiently wait for him to lay back on the bed so you can place yourself in between his toned legs, your hands running up and down his thighs. You bite your lips as you’re watching him getting naked. His body is very toned. His chest is broad as fuck, and his arm is fully covered in tattoos. This pretty much gives bad-boy vibes. Thankfully, you know that he isn’t one. Well, at least, he doesn’t seem to be one.

You also remove your top in order to be fully naked as well. It’s not as sexy as the way he removed his shirt, but you’re now naked together.

“Can I touch you?” you ask him, your eyes glancing up to meet his.

With his eyes locked with yours, he nods. He’s completely desperate to feel your fingers around him. Since you’re equally desperate to please him, you wrap your hand around the base of his dick.

His head is red, precum running down his length and over that prominent vein that lines it. You rub your thumb over the tip before going down on his shaft, spreading his arousal all over him. A deep moan escapes his lips as your hands finally touch him, his head falling completely on the pillow.

“Damn, angel,” he growls, “you’re touching me so fucking perfectly.”

A smile appears on your face at his words. Based on your ex words, you are very skilled with your hands so you hope to provide a lot of pleasure to Jungkook. You want to reward him with the same pleasure he granted you with his mouth.

Slowly, you start pumping him, your hand gliding up and down his length. A trail of groans leaves his lips while you pump him nice and slow. Every time your hand reaches the base, Jungkook shivers, loving how you’re touching him.

As you pump his massive length with your hands, you never stop glancing at him. There’s nothing more rewarding than seeing him melting in your hands.

It’s absolutely incredible to think that you’re sharing such an intimate moment. Barely a week ago it was inconceivable that you’d be here with him. So, this alone is a surprise. Yesterday night, while you were turning in your bed, you were only thinking about the kiss he almost gave you. And now, you’re basically having sex.

That’s incredible.

After a little while, you dip down to kiss the head of his cock, causing deeper and louder moans to leave his mouth. You lick his tip, his precum coating your tongue before you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock to fully sink down on his length.

“Shit, yn,” he groans, loving the warmth of your mouth around him.

He swears that he’s about to fall apart, painting your throat white with his seed. For a little while, your head bobs up and down his length, your tongue twirling along to try to satisfy him as much as possible. Your roommate closes his eyes while he lets his pleasure overwhelm him.

When he opens his eyes, he’s graced with your filthy eyes staring up at him. He never knew that he desperately needed to see you looking at him like that. That sight alone makes him bust right there, his hot seed filling that pretty mouth of yours. You swallow every single drop of his hot cum, but your eyes never leave his face as he groans loudly.

Jungkook looks incredibly hot when he has an orgasm.

Slowly, he comes down from his high, your mouth leaving his cock to just watch him being completely overwhelmed with his orgasm. He looks like an absolute angel but clearly, an angel that seems to have had his cock sucked. His hair is already messy, and his lips are all wet with your arousal, which honestly looks pretty good on him.

“Would you want to keep going?” he asks with his heavy breathing.

The simple fact that he raises the question melts your heart. Your ex never did that before. Once you’d start, he would just keep going without checking if you’d want to stop or not. Well, obviously, you never wanted him to stop. But now, you wished he could have asked it.

It’s pretty obvious you want more but he still wants to make sure you want it. He’s not going to force you to do anything, he has never been like that. After you pushed him away yesterday, he honestly expected you to do the same as things started to get steamy.

You crawl over his body so both your faces are close. For a brief moment, you just glance at each other. You bend down, your face getting closer to his ear, “yes, I want it,” you whisper with a smile on your face.

Jungkook bites his lower lip, he’s having goosebumps all over his body. “I didn’t bring any condom,” he informs you. “I wasn’t expecting this to happen.”

If he knew beforehand that you’d have sex, he would have bought a hundred condoms. He would have used all your free time to fuck you senseless. But this is highly unexpected.

“Don’t worry,” you say. “I have a vaginal ring.”

For years, you’ve been trying different birth control. At first, it was the pill, but very quickly you changed to the vaginal ring since it felt better than the pill.

You press a sweet kiss on his lips. A sincere smile grows on his face, he’s so happy to be here today with you. With your hands, you grab his little monster before brushing it against your pussy. A whimper leaves his lips while he shuts his eyes close. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock.

A deep moan leaves your mouth as his massive dick stretches you out, your hands falling on his chest to balance yourself. His large hands find their way to your waist, caressing your soft skin while his doe eyes filled with lust look into yours. Both of you groan as he slowly pushes his long and thick cock deeper inside you.

“You’re so big,” you whisper.

“If it’s too big, we can stop,” he proposes.

“Eeeh,” you slap his chest. “There’s no way we stop here, Jungkook.”

Jungkook giggles at your words, his face lighting up when he does so. He’s incredibly beautiful when he’s smiling.

You sit on his lap with his cock almost completely inside you, your eyes looking down at him with a bright smile on your face. Jungkook licks his lips, loving to have this beautiful sight in front of him. At this precise moment, he’s wondering why you both lost your time with your exes. This is a hundred times better than all the times he had sex with his ex, and it’s only the beginning.

Very slowly, you start rolling your hips, causing small whimpers to leave his lips. His eyes never leave you as he wishes you to see him starting to melt down under your slow torture.

“You’re riding me like a pro, yn,” he compliments you, letting you also know that you’re doing it right.

“Thanks,” you sincerely say.

Riding your ex is something you wouldn’t do that often, but you’d enjoy it when it happened.

“But,” he starts saying. “I don’t want this to be any slow.” His hands hold your hips tightly allowing him to turn both your bodies to have you now under him.

“Eeeeh,” you say as he places you under him.

His lips find yours for another kiss, the taste of your juice being all over his soft lips while he can taste a bit of his cum inside your mouth.

“I’m gonna wreck you so bad,” he whispers against your lips. Your walls clench around his cock, causing him to moan at the end of his sentence.

“Then, do it,” you reply. “Ruin me.”

Jungkook slowly pushes back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you. His eyes never leave your figure, watching you with delight. He brutally pushes his cock fully inside you, a loud moan leaving your lips. For a little while, he doesn't move, hovering over you before his lips meet yours again for a sloppy kiss.

“Will you stay like that forever?” you cock an eyebrow.

“Looks like someone is impatient,” he chuckles.

For a second, his eyes get lost in your body, groaning as he watches himself buried deep inside you. You’re completely intoxicated by the feeling of him stretching your walls.

Without wasting any more time, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. He leans closer again before licking the spot just under your ear. His hands slowly travel down your body to rest on your hips while his hips slowly thrust into you. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as your moans quickly fill the bedroom.

“Damn,” you manage to say. “You really know how to use that cock.”

Sex with your ex was totally different. He’d always prefer to do things nice and slow, it would never be rough. He didn’t like it at all. Honestly, since you didn’t experience much before him, it was fine for you. You enjoyed it as well.

However, now that you’re being fucked by Jungkook, you realize that a bit of roughness can be better.

Jungkook chuckles at your words. “Of course I do,” he whispers in your ear. “After all, I ain’t called the best man in bed for nothing.”

You roll your eyes. This man seems to have quite a big ego. For sure, you can agree so far with that title ⏤ most probably a self-given title ⏤ but you won’t say it.

The feeling of his cock filling you up, his hips hitting against yours with every thrust he makes causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his covered cock. He licks his lips as he notices the sticky mess you’re causing.

“You’re making such a mess, yn,” he growls.

His cock is buried deep inside you, brushing against your walls which only causes you to moan even louder. You grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jungkook’s hard thrusts.

“And you’re responsible for that mess,” you teasingly say although you’re completely lost in your euphoric state.

“You’re a fucking tease, yn,” he hisses. “Never imagined you like that.”

“Should have fucked me sooner to find it out,” you wink at him.

Honestly, you’re even surprising yourself by being such a tease. With your ex, you’d talk in bed but it wouldn’t be like this. With Jungkook, you simply can’t help yourself, he’s literally giving you everything to tease him.

“That’s my biggest regret right now, angel,” he manages to say in between his moans.

His hands press harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing it.

His hands move on your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them to make you moan with desire before his fingers start playing with your nipples. Moans flood out of your mouth as he tortures your body like no one else.

“Damn, Jungkook,” you say.

His thrusts become again slow and harsh while his fingers on your nipples are pushing you closer and closer to the edge. This man is without any doubt very skilled when it comes to sex. Fuck, you wished you would have sex sooner.

Gradually, Jungkook resumes to thrust hard into you, and your moans follow his harsh movements as they get louder and louder. Your walls suck his cock as he slams his hips into you harshly. His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust, the way you’re losing yourself further into pleasure.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him. “Your cunt is clenching so hard, angel.”

As you glance up at him, you can’t help but find him extremely attractive. His eyes stare down at you with so much passion and desire as his tongue licks his lower lips. He keeps growling your name, thrusting into you with more urgency. Quickly enough, you sense inside your stomach the powerful feeling of pleasure growing. This is becoming overwhelming.

“Gonna come so hard,” you tell him.

His fingers pinch your nipples while his cock twitches inside of you at your words, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

“Don’t hold back, angel.”

Since he wants to torture you more and more as you get closer to your orgasm, one of his hands slowly goes down on your body, passing your stomach, and landing on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot as his cock keeps slamming roughly inside you.

“Jungkook,” you almost scream in surprise.

His fingers on your clit are what you need for your orgasm to explode intensely, making you come hard around him. Your walls squeeze him over and over again while you come all over him.

While you’re completely euphoric from your orgasm, he speeds up the pace of his hips slamming into you, wanting to chase his own high. The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts.

Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you made. A loud groan leaves his mouth when his orgasm hits him hard, your name rolling out of his tongue. His eyes roll back with pleasure as his body tenses up and releases his load inside you, his semen painting your walls white.

Jungkook collapses over you, both your bodies covered in sweat. While you both come down from your high, you simply enjoy this proximity. You wrap your arms around his body to hold him tightly against you. Nobody talks. The room is only filled with your heavy breathing while you caress his back.

This is a fantastic way to start the day. After this steamy session, for sure, your day is only going to be amazing. Hot sex with Jungkook in Nazaré is a combo you never thought you needed.

However, once you are calmer, Jungkook stands up with a smile on his face. He doesn’t need to say anything else for you to understand that there will be a round 2. Fuck, this man has an impressive stamina.

“On your fours, angel,” he growls.

“So now, it’s doggy style,” you say as you follow his order, positioning yourself on your hands and knees but you make sure that your ass and pussy are on full display to him.

Jungkook gets closer to you. “My favorite position ever,” he whispers against your ear.

Your roommate takes a step back, his hand holding his hard dick to stroke it a bit as he places himself behind you. His tongue licks his lips while his eyes are glued to your pussy. Slowly, you press your chest against the mattress to give him more visibility to your wet core. You can still feel inside you his release.

Jungkook’s hand touch your pussy to gently touch it. “Still fucking wet,” he mumbles but you can hear it.

“Because you’re fucking me senseless,” you reply, and you moan when he slaps your pussy. Fuck, you’ll have an orgasm before he’ll even be inside you.

“That’s the whole point of what we’re doing,” he grabs your right arm to pin it behind your back, slowly shoving his cock into you again.

You whine, your teeth biting your lower lip as he resumes to pound into you again. He slowly rolls his hips into your pussy.

“Shit, I’m not going to last long,” he grunts.

He leans down, his right hand going down from your waist to your thighs. His fingers brush against your clit, making you moan a bit louder, and they pinch your clit while you bite harder on your lower lip. The man behind you never ceases to thrust into you harshly, making you see stars.

Every muscle of your body tenses as Jungkook abuses both your clit and pussy. But you decide to torture him a bit as well, it’d be only fun for him to torture you. You clench your walls around him, making him groan louder and smirk

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he moans lustfully as he gives you a harsher thrust.

You’re unable to reply since Jungkook has decided to increase his pace. His hips slam into yours ruthlessly which causes the whole bed to shake under your bodies. Your moans are louder and louder as his cock hits all your sweet spots. The pleasure is slowly but surely growing strongly inside you, and you try as hard as possible to hold your orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Jungkook whimpers.

The second the words leave his mouth, he fills you with his cum and he holds your hips tightly while he gives you small harsh thrusts. Your name rolls out of his tongue, and you decide to let go of your orgasm. There’s no point in holding back. Your walls squeeze him hard when your orgasm hits you once more, your arousal leaking all over his cock.

Jungkook pulls out of you before he lays down next to you on the bed. You come closer to him, his arm wrapping around you to hold you tight against him. None of you speaks while you both catch your breaths.

“I guess now you can call my brother,” his lips press a gentle kiss on top of your head.

A little chuckle leaves your lips at his words. “Let me first catch my breath,” you tell him. “I’m sure he’ll understand right away what we did.”

“Well, I don’t mind him knowing it,” Jungkook replies while doing circles in your back with his fingers.

“But I’m convinced he doesn’t want to,” you look up at him. “Personally, I wouldn’t want to know that my brother fucked my best friend.”

Jungkook giggles before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

Joongki will probably know one day what happened here, but you don’t want him to know it just yet. You’re not sure how he’ll react, and honestly, you’re a bit scared of his reaction. Will he hate you for sleeping with his brother? Probably not, but it still would be weird to say to your best friend that his brother slept with you.

After an hour in bed talking about random things, you and Jungkook decide to leave the apartment and go admire the waves again. After all, you’re here for that.

Usually, you’d directly go to the top of the sturdy rock since the waves are more impressive from there. But today, you decide to go to the beach. They are less massive, but still, you can admire them from another point of view.

You’re sitting at the edge of the sidewalk, right where the sand begins. The sea isn’t that far from you so you really have a beautiful view from where you are. The sea seems more furious than yesterday so Jungkook knows you won’t stay long here before going to the top of the massive rock.

“Today, the sea is creating bigger waves,” you tell Jungkook. “It’s quite impressive.”

He turns his head to look at you. In all honesty, when you moved in with him five years ago, he barely noticed you. He had just come back from New Zealand where he lived for two years. His relationship with Yoojung was starting and his mind was definitely somewhere else. You were simply the best friend of his brother. Nothing more.

However, today, he regrets he didn’t really look at you back then. It would have probably spared him a heartbreak. But, at the end of the day, isn’t it prettier that things between you start here in Nazaré, a place you both wanted to visit?

Of course, you still have to figure out things between you. Obviously, you like each other so you’ll have to see what happens after this trip. Jungkook won't force you to do anything. If you don’t want to give a shot to whatever is going on between you, he’ll respect your choice.

You turn your face to look at Jungkook, offering him a smile when you notice that he’s already looking at you.

“What do you think will happen after this trip?” Jungkook asks you.

You shrug. “I’m not sure,” you say at first. “But if you’d like, we could continue what started here.”

Now, he’s the one smiling, and he’s smiling like an idiot, he’s aware of that.

“I’d love to,” he says with the brightest smile on his face.

Your face gets closer to him and Jungkook breaks the space between your faces to kiss you gently. This is undoubtedly the biggest surprise this trip offered him. After the kiss, you simply lay your head on his shoulder while you keep admiring the beauty of the sea. Nazaré, the town where you fell in love with each other.

#bts #bts imagine #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #effet mer #spideyjimin

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 2 months ago

Text

“𝐗” - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙿𝚘𝚛𝚗𝙳𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 | 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 | 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞

𝖈𝖔-𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍: @shawtycoreee

𝓇𝒶𝒻𝑒𝓎𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒷𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 - 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝑜𝓃𝑒

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱/𝔰𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡𝔲𝔩𝔢

⚠️ warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Kissing, swearing, pussy slapping, cheating, CNC, name calling, degradation, hair pulling, murder, blood, gore, ownership kink, rough sex, praise, change in POVs

📖 Famous porn director Rafe Cameron hires you to shoot a porno with your boyfriend at his big, beautiful house in Figure Eight.

🔪 "I'm her boyfriend," his voice cracks with nerves. He clears his throat, staring him down.

"Sure you are," Rafe smiles." 🔪

3.9K

Reader’s POV:

“What are you freakin’ out for, baby?” Trent scoffs, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You cross your arms, relaxing a little more in the seat as you kick your feet on the dash.

”Obviously, I’m freaking out over nothing,” you clip, rolling your eyes away and huffing out a frustrated breath. You look out the window, watching as the scenery changes—weathered beach shacks and hole-in-the-wall businesses of The Cut exchanged for the luxury of Figure Eight. Your stomach twists in nervous knots—a feeling deep in your gut that your life was about to change forever.

”This right here… This is the big time, sugar. You see where we are? This man has money. You wanna be a star, don’t you? You want the whole world to know your name. Right?”

“‘Course I wanna be a star, Trent. Rafe just freaks me out.” You twirl your hair in nervousness. “I don’t know. Doesn’t he creep you out?” You ask, feeling goosebumps scatter on your arms, uneasiness setting in as you get closer.

“I mean, the man has a starin’ problem, sure, but ain’t that his job? He’s supposed to be catchin’ everything. He directs pornos… Pretty sure that comes with the territory.”

“I guess,” you sigh, loosening up slightly at his explanation—a soft smile forming on your face.

Trent grins at your cooperation, “atta girl,” he purrs, lovingly patting your thigh. “You know, baby, at the end of the day, the director havin’ a little crush on you ain’t the worst thing in the world. If this goes well, who knows what’ll happen? Maybe he’ll keep askin’ us back. Keep feedin’ our pockets. You know I’m right.”

“You’re right,” you assure.

“Well, would you look at this?” Trent breathes as you drive onto the grounds of Tanneyhill, pulling up the drive, eyeing the mini-mansion before you. It’s gorgeous, perfectly groomed, the definition of excess. It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before, let alone fucked in. You suck in a deep breath at the monumental sight before you, riding an indescribable high.

“We’re shootin’ here?” You ask, an ounce of awe in your voice as you gaze upward. The two of you usually set up in some dingy motel on The Cut— the pair of you too used to sticky tiles, stained mattresses, and peeling wallpaper. This was far from the norm.

“What did I say, baby doll? This is the big time.” He shrugs brashly, flashing you a wolfish grin—you swore you could see dollar signs dancing in his eyes.

“The big time,” you echo, exhaling shakily. Trent leans towards, cupping your cheeks in his hands before kissing you softly.

“I know you’re still nervous, but you gotta settle down, pretty girl. You got that X factor… Don’t get in your head.” you nod slowly, drinking his every word.

“I won’t,” you whisper.

Trent looks at the clock on the dash, two minutes past two. He sighs before giving you one last push. “You're special, y/n. Ain't nobody else out there like you. Now, giddyup, time is money. Let’s go make some movie magic. Huh?”

You smile and nod, biting your lip in anticipation and excitement. Trent quickly steps out of the car, walking around to your side before opening the door. You step out onto the pavement, your sky-high Pleaser heels hitting the ground with a loud clack. You adjust your little cut-off jean shorts, pulling the fabric down before fixing your tits. You were ready— ready to star in the film that would ultimately change your life.

“You’re a fuckin’ sex symbol, princess,” he praises as he smacks your ass playfully. You blush at his words, a burst of sensuality swaying in your stride.

“I am, aren’t I,” you smile blissfully as you look up to the sky, basking in the North Carolina sun. The two of you stroll up the cobblestone walk to the front doors of the place, your nerves subsiding with every step. Trent lifts his fist to knock on the door but before he can even make contact, it fans open.

“Welcome,” you hear Rafe’s warm voice. He looks expensive; extremely handsome, his voice not doing him enough justice over the phone. “Come in.” The two of you step inside, eyes dancing around as you take everything in. “Didn’t think you two were comin’,” Rafe rasps as he slides a cigarette out from behind his ear, resting it between his lips.

“We’re five minutes late,” you whisper to Trent, who gives you a look of warning to shut the fuck up.

“If you ain’t early, you’re late,” Rafe breathes through his exhale.

“Sorry,” you mumble sheepishly as the blonde towers over you, looking down at you with a predatory stare.

“You got nothin’ to be sorry about, princess. You weren’t drivin’. Were you?” He asks as he hooks his finger under your chin, guiding your eyes to his. You shake your head ‘no’, batting your lashes at the beautiful man. “You’re fuckin’ stunning,” he praises as his crystal blue eyes stare into yours. “I’m gonna make you a star, honey. I promise,” he murmurs, making a small kissing gesture, before giving you a cheeky wink. Trent was right. This could be good for me. This could be it.

“Okay,” you smile up at him, feeling your heart start to race.

“First hallway on the left,” Rafe nods, gesturing down the way. The deeper you two walk into the estate, the deeper your amazement. Movie posters line the walls of the dark hall, porno cover after cover illuminated by the chandelier light fixtures from up above. All of them had the same name plastered in the top-left corner: Rafe Cameron. You look over your shoulder, watching as he watches you, feeling a little starstruck after seeing his successes. His eyes lift from your ass to your eyes, a smug smile tugging on his perfect lips.

“What’s this,” you whisper as you walk into the room, eyeing the setup: a two cameras on the ready, studio lighting, but no bed… Nothing. Your brows rumple in confusion as you look back at the director. “We’re shootin’ a porno. Correct? You expect me to get fucked on the floor like some kind of animal?” You ask, only half-kidding. Rafe chuckles in reply, amused by your sincere distrust in him. He let out a puff before pointing his cigarette toward the wall.

“See that, angel? Your friend goes on this side. N’ you will go on the other. There’s a camera ready to capture that pretty little face of yours. You see that hole right there. That’s a gloryhole. M’kay. This is just the first scene, though, honey. Wanna get this one out of the way. So—” he claps, rubbing his ringed hands together “—let's get started.”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Trent challenges, too prideful to let the little “friend” comment go.

”What?” Rafe chuckles cruelly, Trent's correction given so far after the fact that it’s laughable.

”I’m her boyfriend,” his voice cracks with nerves. He clears his throat, puffing out his chest slightly.

“Sure you are,” Rafe smiles. Trent’s cheeks flush with anger; you take your turn, silencing him, giving Trent a death glare. “Well, in this flick, you aren’t. She’s mine. Well, the brothels anyway. You’re just payin’ for pussy.”

Trent clenches his fists; his anger bubbling in his chest. “Yes, sir,” he mumbles, taking the higher road for the moment.

“Let me show you where you’ll be tapin’-”

“Do you want me to come with?” Trent interjects as his possessiveness starts to bleed through. He’s surprised by Rafe, that’s clear, unable to deny Rafe’s wickedly handsome looks, regardless of whether he is creepy or not. Rafe fixes his face, holding back a laugh as he catches your boyfriend’s newfound insecurities.

“Nah. I got it. We’ll start rollin’ in a second, lover-boy. You’ll keep your clothes on to start, then zipper down, cock out after I call action. We’ll go from there,” Rafe directs, his eyes never leaving yours.

“N’what’s she gonna wear?” Trent questions wearily as if you aren’t all aware.

“Jesus, fuck,” Rafe grumbles, just over a hush, getting more and more annoyed by the second. “We’re shootin’ a porno, kid. The fuck do you think she’s gonna wear?” He spits. “Are you a goddamn pussy or a porn star?”

“I’m… Sh-Shit - I’m a porn star obvio-”

“That was a rhetorical question,” Rafe taunts. “Pull your head out of your ass or I’ll find someone else to fuck your girl. Understood?”

”Understood,” Trent breathes.

“N’you… Looks like Trent’s stage fright is rubbin’ off on you. I’ve watched all your shit. Every last one of ‘em. Don’t let anyone get in your way. Aight?” Rafe throws his spent cigarette on the floor, crushing it with the heel of his designer loafer. “‘Specially that bitch,” he hums, his words like a secret. You look up at Rafe, giving him an uneasy smile as his large hand rests on your back, leading you out of the room toward the other.

You look back at Trent as the two of you walk out of the room, his emotions so clearly painted all over his face as he wears his heart on his sleeve. You give him one last look, a silent ‘pull your shit together’. He’s not gonna ruin this for me. Rafe guides you to the other room; that same hole cut into the wall, a bed flush with the division, a camera pointing down where you’ll lie. “You need some help gettin’ out of your things, sweetheart?” He asks from behind the lens, playing around with the angles. He turns his full attention to you, eyes trailing your movements.

“No, I’m fine,” you breathe as you unbutton your shorts, the splaying of the zipper making him lick his lips. He looks at you hungrily as you pull the material over your curves, cut-offs falling to a puddle at your heels. He stops himself from wanting to take you right then and there.

“Well, shit,” he praises as he steps closer, eyeing the minimal material of your panties. “These just might be too pretty to take off,” he hums as his long finger loops around the band at your hip, snapping it against your skin, making you gasp at the sensation tingling through your body. “Can I?” He asks as he plays with your panties a little more. You give him a nod, Rafe quickly running his rough digits along the fabric, tugging them to the side, imagining a cock ramming into your soaked hole. “Mmpfh… Shit. Off - Yeah. Yeah. Off, I think. Honestly, I don’t think I could make a mistake with you if I tried,” he praises, his low, husky tone laced with lust. Rafe loops his fingers around the material, dragging your panties down your thighs slowly. His fingers work their way up your leg, drifting under your tube top as if to take it off. “Pussy’s too pretty not to show.” You step back as you grab your top, pulling it off your body. The blonde smirks as you take the initiative, his eyes wandering to your exposed chest. Rafe lets out a hungry groan as your boobs bounce out, nipples hard from the chilled air. “Well, you look like a star, baby doll. There’s no denyin’ that,” he groans in a sleazy tone as he spins you under his finger, studying your curves.

“Thank you,” you add, cheeks warming up under his watchful eye, loving his attention. Rafe grabs your hand, helping you to the table, before lifting you onto the plush top. You gasp as he uses his muscles, pulling you exactly where he wants you with a heavy hand. Your heart beats faster, seeing his sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips at your reaction.

He walks over to the camera, checking the lens, catching his angle before adjusting to the perfect spot. “Alright, pretty. Let’s get this scene outta the way, and then we can all film in the same room. Yeah? I’m guessing your boy isn’t gonna make you finish like this. No fake orgasms. Clear? I need the real deal.” You nod in agreement one moment, jumping the next, as Trent's fingers graze the inside of your thighs.

“You doin’ okay in there, baby?” He asks softly.

“M’Perfect, Trent,” you chirp.

“You are perfect. Aren’t you, princess,” Rafe pipes in, shooting you another wink that has your breath hitching. Trent’s fingers press on your pearl, rubbing soft circles on top, prepping you as Rafe walks around to the other side.

Your eyes flutter shut as you try to focus on the conversation on the other side— just a jumbled mess of Rafe and Trent, nothing comprehensible. Music surrounds you, filling the small room with sound, that same noise coming from the other room as well, Rafe, setting an ambiance.

Trent’s POV:

“Focus on her… Focus on, y/n,” I chant in my head again and again as my fingers glide through her drenched cunt. She’s so fuckin’ wet. Wetter than usual. I know this pussy like the back of my hand. Someone got her excited, and I knew exactly who it was.

Sure, he’s creepy; we both knew that before we walked in, but I didn’t know he would be so fucking handsome. She wants to be a star. I WANT her to be a star, but I can’t get her there like he can. Anyone can fuck… He’s got the means and the power. Just gotta get through this. Gotta bring her home and remind her all the reasons she loves me, but is love enough?

“Trent? You good, brother?” Rafe asks, looking back at me like I’m some kinda fool. His eyes fall, his scowl shifting to a smile, but not at me, watching as my fingers toy with my girl's perfect cunt. My girl. Mine. I lift my hand to my mouth, suckin’ her taste off my fingers.

“Never better,” I rasp.

Rafe’s brows lift in surprise at the change in my tone. Even I hear it, boyish and insecure to deep and cocky. Fuck this guy. I slap my fingers against her cunt, making her whimper, letting Rafe hear her for himself. “Yeah, buddy. She’s ready, too,” I laugh, watching his handsome features sharpen.

“Alls you gotta do is fuck her. Think you can do that?” He asks sharply as he extends his hand, snapping and pointing to the mark on the floor beside him.

”You’ve seen my shit, Cameron. You know I got no problem with that; that’s why you’re payin’ me to fuck my girlfriend. Yeah?” I respond matter-of-factly as I step away from the wall, shuffling out of the frame.

A smile slides across his lips, his large, muscular arms crossing over his chest. “Absolutely,” he replies. “Just step in when I call ‘action’, Star Boy.” Rafe steps behind the camera, counting me on. “Action.” I walk toward the wall, taking her in like it’s the very first time.

“Well fuck,” I groan as I peek at my girl through the division, my cock painfully hard in my jeans from a mixture of adrenaline and arousal. Rafe shifts the camera, catching the scene as I lower my zipper, pulling out my dick. I smile wickedly, tongue gliding along my bottom lip. He may be hotter than me, but, fuck, if I ain’t hung like a porn star. I hold my long, thick cock in my hand, jerking myself at the sight of her, letting a needy moan drip from my lips. “You got a pretty pussy. Don’t you, slut?” I mumble.

I grab my fat cock, running my head through her soaked folds, coating my tip with her slick as I throw my head back. I trace my dick a little lower, tip catching on her tight hole, teasing her, stretching her out slightly with my swollen tip. She scoots a little closer, ass pressed even further against the wall, craving more of me. Good girl. My deep moan fills the room as I pitch my hips forward, filling her to the hilt. The music in the room is loud, but I can still hear her sweet noises through the hole. Hear that, Rafe?

“Goddamnit… You always this wet for your customers?” I ask as I pull out, slamming back in fast. “Or are you just this wet for Daddy?” I let out a laugh, desperately wanting to look back and see the look on Rafe’s face as her sounds of pleasure come through with every rock and thrust. I press my hands against the wall, using it as leverage to stroke even quicker, fucking into my girl fast. He wouldn't be able to fuck you like I can, baby.

I hear a whistle, catching my attention. I look behind the camera, but Rafe’s not there anymore. What the fuck? My thrusts stall; the hairs on the back of my neck stand up….

“SHIT!”

Reader’s POV:

The sounds of your pleasure flow like a song from your lips, breathy and soft, just like your audience loves. You break the fourth wall, looking at the camera for a moment, running your hands up your body, taking hold of your tits, squeezing them tight. You roll your eyes as Trent drags his long, thick cock out of your drenched pussy, slamming back in again, making you wail.

He takes a quicker pace, shifting his stance, hitting a new angle that has you seeing stars. His cockhead strikes your sweet spot with each stroke, bringing you closer and closer to your finish. “Yes. Yes. Yes!” You cry out, back arching off the bed as you cum all over your boyfriend's cock. He doesn’t let up, working you through your orgasm with precision, adding his fingers to your clit as well, your body trembling with overstimulation. You feel a second release, squirting on his dick, making an absolute mess in the other room. Trent taps your clit, making tears pool in your lidded eyes.

He pulls out, causing you to gasp at the loss of him, the man pointing his tip at your pussy, jerking his cock quickly, spurting warm ropes of cum on your pretty little cunt. Goosebumps spread across your body as his sticky cum slips down your folds. He traces his throbbing tip through you, catching the mess before stuffing himself back inside.

His large hand reaches through the slight space in the hole as well, pressing against the bulge in your lower stomach, making you whimper and whine. Your heart and stomach fall as that same hand drags back. RC etched into a gold ring on his middle finger, a crimson trail of red blood following on your belly. You scream in terror as he pulls out, you, crawling backward on the bed to put space between you and the man on the other side. “TRENT!” You shriek at the top of your lungs. You look through the hole as Rafe walks away, watching as he follows Trent, who’s dragging himself along the floor, trailing a thick streak of blood behind him.

Your hands clamp over your mouth, muffling another cry as Rafe draws back a knife, stabbing him once, twice, three times. Your eyes slam shut, and your body falls into a state of complete and utter shock. You look for a way out— the window or the door. He’d surely be walking in any second. Maybe I can jump out the window and run to the car? But I don’t have keys. Maybe I can just run. You leap off the bed, running toward the window, grabbing it, pulling it with all your might, but it doesn’t budge.

“HELP ME!” You cry out, snatching your heel off your foot, slamming it against the glass again and again, watching as a crack splits and starts to spider. “Yes. Yes,” you sniffle, relieved the glass is giving. You hit it even harder, sending shards flying all over the room.

You look over your shoulder, watching the brass handle twist out of the corner of your eye, opening slowly. Rafe stands there, staring back at you with dead, dark eyes, his crisp button-down and unzipped slacks a mess with Trent’s blood. You swallow hard, trying to push down the lump in your throat.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, playing it off like maybe you don’t know what happened in the other room. Rafe's gaze lowers, landing on the bloodied streak on your bare stomach, your cowering body telling a story all of its own.

Shit.

He lunges for you, and you bound away, sprinting toward the door, tears streaming down your face. "Rafe, please stop," your voice trembles.

"I just wanna talk..." His tone is calm and collected, more unsettling than not, as you grab the doorknob, jarring the handle open to no avail. You shake your head wildly, wiping your tears on your arm as he stalks you nice and slow. He looks down at you with crazed eyes as he foots closer and closer, holding his blood-stained arms in the air to induce calmness in you. "Don’t worry, princess," he whispers. “I’ll make it quick.”

You scream as loud as you can, your voice echoing through the house. You prayed that someone—anyone would hear you. "P-Please, Rafe. Please!" You cry, snot pouring from your nose as your emotions run hot down your cheeks. Your heart beats out of your chest as your throat closes tighter by the second. “Please," you sniffle, “don’t kill me.” Rafe grabs you, tearing you away from the door by your hair. Your entire body trembles against his broad chest, his big arms making it next to impossible to fight free. "Rafe-"

You're cut off as he wraps his strong arm around your throat from the back, his other hand clutching the knife. You feel the point of the blade prod into your back, nerves jumping at the feeling. You scream one last time, surrendering to the man, praying that he’ll make it fast. He pulls you right where he wants you, angling the two of you in line with the camera. You’re finished; this is the end. You begin to weep softly, hiccuping and sniffling pathetically, looking back at your horrified face in the reflection of the camera lens.

Rafe turns into your neck as his large knife traces up your naked body coated in blood. “Why’d you think I asked you here? Huh? Filthy fuckin’ whore.” He slides his blade across your neck as you give him one final choked cry.

“And cut…”

Rafe smiles, tossing the knife to the floor, the sharp tip piercing into the foundation. With your eyes shut tight, you slowly feel his intensity subside, his muscles relaxing as he releases his grip around you. “My girl…” His voice is like honey in your ear. Your terrorized face melts into a giddy smile as Rafe’s soft lips meet your hot skin, kissing up your neck to the shell of your ear before nuzzling in. You look back through the hole, watching Trent’s eyes shut heavily, the man reaching for his last breaths. You roll your eyes at the sight, relieved to be finally done with him. Fucking loser. I mean, how many orgasms was I gonna have to fake? Even if he tried, he didn't have it in him to make me famous.

“We did it, baby,” Rafe mumbles affectionately. “Fuck, the whole world is gonna be lookin’ at you. America’s new scream queen,” he drawls as he turns your chin, his soft, sweet lips matching yours. You groan as you embrace his warm touch, fantasizing about this new, upcoming chapter in your life. He’s gonna make it all happen.

”Did I do a good job, Daddy?” You ask through a breathy sigh, eyes twinkling.

”Oh, princess… I’m gonna make you a fuckin’ star.”

A special thank you to @shawtycoreee 💕💕💕 it was so much fun working with you!!!!! Your mind and talent is amazing. And you're the sweetest too 🤭💕 mwwwahhh 😘

Taglist (if your name is crossed out, it was not pulling up an account 💕💕): @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @cl4uus @theeternaloptimistt @starkeysprincess @gri959 @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @aariahnaa @pinkqutz @hyperfixationgirl @akobx @daryldixon83 @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii @oxpogues4lifexo @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @savayvayblr-blog @unrealmirrorball @romaescapes @cades-outsider @ch4rrykisses @namelesslosers @anamiad00msday @buckybarnessweetheart @floredaqueen

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mapofthemazeinthemirror · 1 year ago

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When you’re sick

Warnings: none, one Monsters Inc. reference I hope won't confuse people

Please let me know which is your favourite!

☆ gender neutral reader

Soobin

You'd tried everything, from warm baths to drinking god-awful concoctions people swore by on the internet. But you were still sick. You'd been holed up in your bedroom for almost a week, leaving poor Soobin to have to sleep on the couch. You missed him, but you couldn't let him catch what you had. The only contact you'd had with him all week was through texting, and the meals he'd leave outside the bedroom door for you.

Of course, you'd been apart longer than this before; being in a successful group, Soobin often went on tour for months at a time. But this almost seemed harder, maybe because you felt miserable physically and just wanted to be held and loved on.

"I just wanted to see you," came his muffled voice, a hint whiny. "I won't come any further than this, I promise."

Sighing, you retreated from hiding. You hadn't seen him with your own eyes for what felt like longer than it actually was. There was no helping how good it felt to look at him now. "I miss you."

His lopsided smile gave you a rush of warmth. "Please get better before I go crazy."

You felt guilty. "I'm sorry. You can go and stay at Taehyun's if you-"

Soobin's mouth quirked, his brow creased. "It's not that. I just want to see you, touch you, have a real conversation. I want to hold you until we fall asleep." You felt the longing for him increase. "You always take care of me when I'm sick, even if you might catch it. Please, let me do the same for you."

His eyes held a helpless look that tugged at your heart as much as his words did. You felt your resolve crack, and it must have shown in your face, Soobin crossing the threshold and shuffling towards the bed. Relief flooded through you as he crawled up next to you and tucked you into his arms. His warmth was everything you'd needed for the past week, and he sighed as you buried your face against his neck. You swear you started melting when you felt his fingers in your hair. This was home.

Yeonjun

You weren't sure how long you'd felt like this. Time seems a blur when most of it is spent in bed, falling in and out of sleep and dreams. It took a monumental effort just to roll from one side to the other, so you couldn't remember the last time you'd eaten or showered. One small mercy was the fact that your ears were blocked, muffling the noise of the world outside the window; birds and neighbours dogs and traffic sounds couldn't disturb your sporadic naps.

Suddenly there was soft skin against your cheek, a warm palm and fingertips that you leaned into without question, and a deep sound somewhere close by. It took a few minutes for your mind to kick in and realise that these things were real and not a dream. Opening your eyes to the dim room, you found a face smiling down at you; your Yeonjun. But something was strange about this. Hadn't you been alone? Wasn't there a reason you were in the middle of the big bed, his pillow trapped between your arms?

"Junie?" You whinced as your voice seemed to reverberate through your head, your throat burning as the word tore through it.

"Hey, baby," he replied softly. You felt his fingers swipe the hair off your forehead before his nose was touching your own.

With what little strength you had, you tried to sink further into the mattress to put space between the two of you. "Jun, I'm- I'm sick."

"It's okay." You felt his arm slither under your back and peel you off the bed, pulling you into him. "I'm here."

You sniffled, swallowing against the dryness of your mouth that comes with not being able to breathe through your nose for so long. "Why?"

"'Why?'" He laughed. "Because the tour ended and I came home to you. Aren't you happy to see me?"

You nodded weakly against his chest. "Junie... I'm sick," you said again, half warning and half complaint.

His hand began to rub your back soothingly, and it felt so good to be in his arms again that you sighed heavily, raspily. "I know, babe, I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't..." Words were too hard. Instead, you brought your hand to his chest and tried to push him, rather feebly, away.

A large hand wrapped around your wrist, softly pulling your arm up over his shoulder. "I don't care. I missed you."

Not having it in yourself to argue, you surrendered, letting your body totally relax into his. You had pictured him coming home after tour very differently than this. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to talk about his trip, but you couldn't fight your body. You heard the rumble of his voice again. "What?"

"I'll make you some chicken soup," he repeated. But as he tried to turn to leave the bed you grabbed a handful of his shirt. You heard him chuckle, and his arms were back around you again. "Maybe later, then."

Beomgyu

One minute you were studying, the next you were being woken by your phone blasting the most annoying ringtone Beomgyu had set for himself. You scrambled to snatch the phone off the desk where you had evidently fallen asleep. "Gyu? What time is it?"

"Half past the time you were supposed to meet me at the cinema."

Your heart sank. How long had you been asleep? "Oh no. I'm so sorry, I fell asleep."

"Why do you sound like you're talking into a tin can?"

Now that you were more awake, you noticed the feeling in your throat, the pounding of your head. Sure, falling asleep with your head on a desk wasn't the best, but you'd never known it to make your head feel like this. Come to think of it, you couldn't breathe through your nose very well either. You thought back and vaguely remembered your roommate having had a cough before she left for the weekend. There was a knock at the door.

"Hang on," you said into the phone, crossing the small space to open the door and-

"You look terrible," Beomgyu said, to your face and in your ear before hanging up. His cheeks were flushed, telling you he'd walked all the way here, in the cold, probably to check on you.

"Wow, thanks," you deadpanned as you let him in. "When's the next showing? Maybe we can make that one."

Your boyfriend pulled his hood down and looked at you for a moment before pressing his palm to your forehead. Trying not to flinch at the coldness of his hand, you looked up at him, his eyes still studying you.

"You're hot," he told you.

You scoffed, but it came out as more of a cough. "That's not what you were saying a minute ago."

Without another word, Beomgyu's hands were on your shoulders, turning you around and steering you through the small dorm room and sitting you down on your bed. Then he disappeared into the bathroom, coming back with a towel that he pressed against your head.

"I'm fine," you sighed. "Let's go see the movie."

Beomgyu tisked, gesturing for you to hold the towel before dipping to his knees to pull off your slippers. "The only movie you're seeing tonight is the DVD I got you for Christmas." Standing up again, he shooed you up the bed and pulled the covers over you.

"But we've seen that a hundred times," you whined. You'd been looking forward to a night out with your boyfriend; the movie, popcorn, leaving the confines of your dorm room after so many days and nights of studying.

"But you love it," he retorted, mocking your whiny tone. He handed you the remote for the tiny TV at the foot of your bed. "I'm guessing you haven't had dinner?" You shook your head. "Got any cup ramen?" You nodded.

You opened your mouth again to complain, but the words never came as Beomgyu kissed you on the top of the head and walked over to boil the kettle. Instead you let yourself sink into the comfort of your bed, only now noticing how exhausted you actually were. So you weren't going to get your date, but how could you complain when you had a boyfriend like this?

Taehyun

You were up before Taehyun this morning - an unusual occurrence. You'd woken up with a funny feeling in your throat and quickly but quietly escaped his room to cough without waking him. Then you'd tiptoed to the kitchen to boil water, eyes meeting with Yeonjun's who was sitting at the table eating cereal. His smirk said it all.

You were sat on the couch when Taehyun emerged from his room, tired eyes searching for you. By now, Soobin and Beomgyu were also sitting at the table eating. Taehyun plodded over to you. "Morning."

"Don't get contaminated," Yeonjun called, looking up from his phone. You narrowed your eyes at him.

Soobin, who looked like he could've still been half asleep, whipped his head up in confusion, chewing his toast with a new expression.

Taehyun's eyes swept from his friend to you, scanning your face for signs of anything amiss. "Are you not feeling well?"

"M'fine," you croaked, arms wrapped around yourself inside your hoodie as you tried to hold off a shiver.

"Tried to cough up a whole cat this morning," Yeonjun snitched. Soobin looked between Yeonjun and Beomgyu, still puzzled, his messy bed hair comedically flapping side to side.

You rolled your eyes, looking up at Taehyun with a small pout. "I just have a cough. It's probably the change in the weather."

"Or bronchitis."

Taehyun ignored the oldest boy's comment as he crouched down in front of you. "Do you want me to go to the pharmacy?"

"Really," you persisted. "I'm fine. I feel okay, just an itchy throat." As if on cue, you started to cough again, burying your face into the crook of your arm, then quickly tried to recover yourself. "I don't want you to worry."

"Sounds like a duck," Beomgyu said with a tone that gave away his amusement.

Taehyun sighed and rubbed up and down your arms comfortingly. "I just want to help you feel better, so anything you need, you just tell me, okay?"

You nodded. He stood up and went to the kitchen to start breakfast, giving you a kiss on the cheek first. Suddenly there was a commotion, as Beomgyu grabbed his breakfast bowl and ran from the kitchen yelling, "twenty-three nineteen!"

Huening Kai

The first thing that you noticed was a dull ache in your head. You'd taken some pain relief, thinking it was just a normal headache, and pushed on to get ready for your dinner plans. Kai's parents were always so happy to have you for dinner, and to see him catching up with them and his sisters made you happy, too.

You started to feel a little weak halfway through your meal, participating in conversation less and less, and after dinner you'd slipped away to a quiet room for what was supposed to be a few minutes. Your body felt heavy, more exhausted than what would be expected, and as you sat on an armchair in the dimly lit room, you became aware of the dull ache in your muscles. Eyes closing, the sound of distant chatter and laughter from the dining room lulled you quickly into unexpected sleep.

Kai had thought you were gone for the bathroom, and after ten minutes of your absence, his eyes flicking to the door every so often in anticipation of your reappearance, he thought he should check on you - maybe something you'd eaten wasn't agreeing with you. When he'd knocked on the bathroom door and there was no reply, he'd let himself in only to find it empty. He checked the kitchen, then the garden, then walked back to the dining room to see if you'd returned there while he'd been away. His mother joined him as he went to check the living room.

The two of them found you dozing and lowered their voices to a whisper, Mrs. Huening commenting that you hadn't seemed yourself earlier. Kai gently touched the back of his hand to your forehead and found it clammy. This, along with the headache you'd mentioned before the drive up and how quiet you'd been, probably meant you'd come down with something, and he decided to take you home.

That's how you woke up in Kai's arms, in the cold night air, on the way to the car. "There you are," he said when he noticed you awake. "Have a nice nap?"

You noticed a sore throat was beginning as you spoke, glancing around the street. "We're leaving?"

His soft brown eyes met yours as he continued to walk. His arms kept you steady against his chest, so you barely felt like you were on the move. "You're exhausted. You fell asleep."

You hated that you were the reason Kai's family time was being cut short and that you hadn't said goodbye to anyone. "I'm fine, Hyuka. Let's go back. Please?"

He came to a stop as he reached the car, looking down into your eyes again with a soft smile. "You need rest. We'll go home, I'll run a bath, and then we'll get into bed." Seeing you open your mouth to argue, he added, "Let me take care of you."

You couldn't argue with that.

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form

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brunchable · 1 month ago

Text

You told Bucky that, 'He's right' 《Drabble》

Words: ≈600

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x f!reader.

A/N: omg i actually wrote a short story. Dunno if you'd call it a drabble if its >100words but eh. Divider is mine :)

Bucky stared down at his phone, his brow furrowed in confusion. He sat on the edge of the bed, glancing at the door you had just walked through after the argument. Everything about the situation felt... wrong.

"Did I hear that right?" he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You had said the words no married man expects to hear, especially after an argument: "You're right."

A cold sweat broke out on Bucky's forehead. He picked up his phone and hurriedly typed a message to Sam, his thumbs flying over the keys like it was a mission.

Bucky: Hey, I just had an argument with Y/N, and she just told me I was right. What do I do next?

Sam's response came almost immediately, as if he'd been waiting for the exact moment Bucky's world flipped upside down.

Sam: Oh no. What did you do?

Bucky: That's the thing! I didn’t do anything!

Sam: Doubt it. Check again. You definitely did something.

Bucky got up and peeked out the bedroom door. You were calmly sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone as if nothing monumental had just occurred. No fuming. No angry glares. You even had a tiny smile on your face. That, more than anything, terrified Bucky.

He quickly shut the door and leaned against it, typing with even more urgency.

Bucky: I swear! She just said, “You’re right.”

Sam: She said WHAT?

Bucky: “You’re right,” Sam. I’m not messing with you. What do I do? Is this a trap?

A long pause followed. Sam was probably trying to process what Bucky was saying, and that made Bucky even more nervous. His phone buzzed with another message.

Sam: Listen, man, if she said you're right, there's no going back. You’re in uncharted territory now. Just apologize.

Bucky: But she said I’m right!

Sam: And you’re still wrong. Did your Dad not tell you that women are always right?!

Bucky's mind raced. What if this was some sort of test? What if this was a new form of argument he had never encountered before?

Bucky: Okay, but what do I apologize for?

Sam: For breathing. For existing. Pick one, man. Just go with it.

Bucky sighed, rubbing his temples. None of this made sense. He felt like a soldier in a war zone, except the enemy was invisible, and the battle lines were non-existent. He looked at his phone one last time, hoping for some final piece of wisdom from Sam.

Sam: If she said you're right, just apologize and bring her chocolate. And flowers. Actually, maybe throw in a puppy just to be safe.

Bucky: A puppy? Where am I supposed to get a puppy at this hour?

Sam: Figure it out. Good luck, man. It was nice knowing you.

Bucky groaned, shoving the phone in his pocket. He paced for a few minutes, trying to figure out the best approach. Finally, with a deep breath, he walked into the living room, feeling like he was marching to his doom.

You looked up at him with a raised brow. "Something on your mind?"

Bucky cleared his throat, feeling a bead of sweat slide down his back. "Listen, doll, about earlier... I just wanted to say I’m... sorry."

Your brow furrowed slightly. "For what?"

"For... being right?"

Your lips twitched, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, hiding a smile. "Oh, really?"

Bucky shifted nervously. "Yeah, and for... everything else. Just... all of it."

You finally burst into laughter, doubling over as you clutched your stomach. "Oh, Bucky, you’re ridiculous."

Bucky blinked, completely thrown off. "Wait, what? So I’m not in trouble?"

You shook her head, wiping away tears of laughter. "No, you goof, why would you be? I just didn’t feel like arguing anymore. I knew you'd spiral the moment I said you were right."

Bucky blinked. “So, you were messing with me.”

You grinned mischievously, shrugging a shoulder. "Just a little. But I like the apology."

Bucky shook his head with a grin. “I swear, you’re going to be the death of me, doll.”

As you laughed, Bucky’s phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen to see another message from Sam.

Sam: You still alive?

Bucky: Barely. You owe me a puppy.

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fadedin2u · 11 months ago

Text

hey batter, batter

MDNI 18+

synopsis: ellie and abby have been rivals for years, playing for their university’s softball team. one day you, their coach’s daughter, show up at their game and ruin everything.

content: ellabs x reader, reader isn’t specified to be fem or masc, reader is described as a “girl”, afab!reader, sub!reader, dom!abby, switch!ellie, cunnilingus(e! and r! receiving), fingering(everyone receiving), strap-on(r!receiving)

word count: 3.7k

notes: based on this, thank u to @andisalias for giving me the idea to do softball, i think it worked really well! disclaimer: i know NOTHING about sports and just did a lot of research for this fic, so if anything is inaccurate about softball, i’m so sorry lmao

ellie sits on a bench in the dugout, picking at her dirty fingernails as she watches abby go up to bat.

“i hate the fucking batting order, i swear to god that jared has a vendetta against me,” ellie tells dina, who’s up to bat after ellie.

jared, the coach for their university’s softball team, is standing off to the side of the field, watching each move anyone makes on the field like a hawk.

dina snorts, nodding towards abby; “i think he has a vendetta against you fucking with his star first baseman before she goes up to bat.”

ellie scoffs, “that bitch deserves it.”

dina laughs a little, “right.”

ellie shoots a glare towards dina and goes back to burning holes into the muscular blonde’s back with her intense staring as abby holds the bat up, ready to swing.

if ellie was honest with herself, she did find abby just a little bit attractive, but any attraction ellie felt was monumentally overpowered by her intense hatred and jealousy for the blonde. abby was an upperclassman and naturally excelled in softball, always managing to make ellie feel small just by walking past her, which ellie despised. luckily, she knew that abby was just as bothered by ellie in return.

the pitcher throws the softball and abby strikes out on all 3 throws. ellie’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised.

“oh shit.” dina remarks, “i can’t remember the last time i saw ellie strike out.”

ellie rolls her eyes, “she’s not that great, dude. she fucks up all the time.”

dina doesn’t reply, not wanting to amp up her teammate.

abby comes back to the dugout, simmering with embarrassment and rage. ellie stands up and bumps abby’s shoulder with her own as ellie goes to bat.

“nice going,” ellie sneers, her voice barely audible, but abby picks it up, her fists clenching at her sides as she takes a seat on the bench.

abby turns to look at the girl who distracted her in the stands, and it’s you, chewing a fat wad of Big League Chew. her cheeks grow warm at the thought of fucking up so badly in front of you.

‘knock it off, abs, you don’t even know her,’ abby’s brain supplies, and she tries to listen, turning back to watch ellie bat.

as ellie goes up to the plate, getting into position, she looks through the netting behind her to look at the crowd, looking to see if joel ended up making it to this game after work. she almost immediately finds joel, sitting at the front of the bleachers with a bag of sunflower seeds. ellie’s about to give him at least a nod, but is quickly distracted when she sees you sitting next to joel.

‘what the fuck? who the fuck is that?’ ellie thinks to herself, her cheeks reddening as she gets into position to bat.

she turns away for a second to catch another glimpse of you, but as she does, she feels the softball sail past her into the catcher’s mitt.

“strike one!”

ellie’s wholes face feels hot and she kicks herself internally for getting so distarcted that she didn’t even swing in front of one of the most attractive people she’s ever seen. she shakes out her head a little, and she hears joel clapping, offering some cheers of support for ellie, but it just makes her feel more humiliated.

ellie adjusts her position, avoiding eye contact with her coach as he silently fumes over his star players completely fucking up and out of their element.

when the pitcher pitches the ball again, ellie swings and misses. at this point, she can feel her rage physically in her stomach, burning. she wilts inside slightly as she thinks about you seeing her play the worst she’s played since high school.

on her last pitch, ellie swings too early and strikes out. ellie feels sick as she walks back to the dugout, tossing her bat on the ground with more force than she should use.

dina walks past ellie silently to go up to bat, knowing that saying anything to ellie about this right now would probably be a mistake.

ellie sits down on the bench, grinding her teeth as she makes a little hole in the dirt ground with her shoe.

abby leans over towards ellie, now smirking, “hmmm… karma’s a bitch, huh?”

ellie jaw thrusts forward, not replying or looking at abby in fear that she’ll lose all control and lunge at the bigger girl, which she knows their coach would probably kick ellie off the team for.

in the next inning, abby takes her position at first base as ellie takes center field. abby looks up at you, chewing her lip slightly as she does. she tries to push down the wild butterflies she has, cursing herself for how distracted she’s been getting by your mere presence and not wanting to fuck this up anymore.

abby looks back at her teammates, and catches ellie staring intently at the crowd. abby follows ellie’s line of sight back to you and she clenches her jaw.

as the game continues, abby and ellie both drag the team down significantly, the two most competitive and cutthroat girls now distracted and aloof, dropping balls and staring at you despite their efforts not to.

eventually, the game ends and the visiting team wins by a landslide. abby feels sick about being partly responsible for their first loss of the season. both girls walk with the team dejectedly as they file inside to the locker room, following their coach.

when they’re all in the locker room, jared lays in to them, specifically abby and ellie.

“abby. ellie. what the fuck was that? i’ve never seen either of you play like that. are you two fucking high?” jared reprimands angrily.

ellie’s face hardens, and she has to use every ounce of self control not to do something she’ll regret. abby, on the other hand, takes the criticism in, fully ashamed of how she played today.

“i’m sorry, coach… I was just off today, but it won’t happen again,” abby says, her head low.

ellie is so close to making fun of abby for kissing their coach’s ass, but before she does, you walk into the dressing room cautiously, sitting on a chair in the corner. ellie stares at you, confused, but her heart racing form just your presence.

jared shakes his head, “i just don’t get it, you’re both firecrackers normally, but today, it felt like you two weren’t even in the game.”

abby is stunned too, unable to come up with a response as she stares at you. you shift a little in your chair awkwardly as both women stare you down.

jared shakes his head again, “this better not happen ever again, got it? or else you’re off the team. you can’t pull this shit and off scott-free.”

abby and ellie both quickly snap their attention back to jared, knowing that both of their scholarships are from softball, and if they get kicked off, they’re fucked.

jared rubs his temples, “alright… i’m done for today. go home, and i’ll see you all at practice tomorrow.”

the team starts packing up their stuff, a few of them heading to the showers. ellie and abby watch as their coach approaches you.

jared gives you a hug, “hey, sorry that you had to hear that.”

you shake your head, clearly a little uncomfortable about watching jared reprimand the team. “it’s fine, dad, don’t worry.”

dad? ellie and abby’s jaws comically dropping at the same time.

as you and jared talk, ellie and abby tear themselves away to head to the showers, both of them irritated that the other is present.

‘jared’s fucking daughter??? there’s no way that dick made someone so beautiful,’ ellie sulks to herself, stripping her clothes.

both girls quickly shower and by the time they’re done and grabbing their bags, they’re the only two left in the locker room.

abby is determined not to say a word to ellie, but ellie has other plans.

“so, you have the hots for coach’s daughter then?” ellie asks as she stuffs her sweaty uniform into her bag, her hair wet and hanging in her face.

abby’s loose, wet hair dampens the back of her t-shirt as she glares at ellie, “please, don’t act like you weren’t drooling over her the whole game.”

ellie laughs a little, “well… yeah. i have eyes, dumbass.”

abby bristles, “so, you’re gonna ask her out or something?”

ellie shrugs, “and what if i did? afraid she might like me more, anderson?”

abby scoffs, “i’m more afraid of you harassing her.”

ellie glares at abby, taking a step towards her, “literally, fuck you.”

abby steps closer too, using her size advantage against ellie to try and intimidate her, “funny, it seems you ‘literally’ want to fuck her.”

“ummm…” they hear a small voice from the doorway of the locker room.

abby and ellie’s heads whip around and they see you standing there awkwardly.

“i, uh… my dad thinks he left his baseball cap in here and asked if i could find it before i head back to my dorm,” you over-explain, rambling a bit.

ellie’s eyes light up a little, ‘jackpot.’

“don’t worry, i’ll help you look around for it,” ellie immediately answers, going up to you, “i’m ellie, by the way.”

your cheeks are hot as you shake ellie’s hand, and abby realizes that ellie might be stealing her opportunity, and she walks up to you as well.

“hey, i’m abby.” she says, shaking your hand as well, her large hands engulfing yours, “and don’t stress, i know what his cap looks like, it must be around here somewhere.”

abby and ellie give each other murderous looks as they search the locker room for coach’s ball cap.

you look around as well, your brain racing as you contemplate what you overheard them saying before they saw you.

abby finds the ball cap on the counter and raises it up in victory, “found it!”

ellie takes a breath, trying not to get unnecessarily upset over something as trivial as this.

you grin, approaching abby, “oh thank god. i’m terrible at finding shit, i *really* appreciate you both helping me.”

“of course,” abby and ellie both respond at the same time, side eyeing each other slightly.

you stand in front of the two as an awkward silence settles over everyone.

you decide to be bold, for once in your life, and break the silence, “so, i, ummm… i overheard you two before walked in.”

abby’s eyes get big and ellie’s freckled face goes red.

“oh shit, i’m really so sorry,” abby says, running her hand through her loose hair anxiously as ellie stands there awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

you smile a little, “no, it’s okay. really.”

you step forward, closer to them, and the girl’s tense up.

“it is a shame that you can’t share me though,” you boldly suggest, surprised by your own confidence, but you knew that they wanted you. they certainly weren’t discreet during the game.

‘holy shit.’

abby’s jaw drops slightly and ellie pauses before slowly saying, “share?”

you take a step closer, looking back and forth between them, “yeah. share.”

abby turns to ellie, and in that moment, maybe for the first time, they’re on the same page.

“i wouldn’t mind sharing you,” abby responds, her voice soft and low.

ellie nods, taking a step closer to you, “i’m good with sharing too,” she quickly supplies.

a slow smile spreads over you face, your eyes sparkling as you press yourself against ellie.

“well then… feel like sharing me right now?”

abby laughs a little to herself at the lunacy of this situation, but she can’t say that she’s not already wet just from this conversation alone, so abby nods.

“fuck yeah i do,” ellie says enthusiastically before kissing you.

abby watches as ellie kisses you, and the fire in her stomach is a mix of lust and envy.

ellie’s hands are gripping your hips as she presses you more into her. you run your tongue over her bottom lip and she moans, letting you into her mouth.

you feel a warm pressure against your back and you realize that it’s abby.

“my turn, williams,” abby says, her hands gliding over your waist.

you break the kiss with ellie, and her pupils are dilated, her lips plump and wet with spit. “fuck.”

abby spins you around towards her and doesn’t waste any time before kissing you, her arms wrapping around you.

you feel ellie’s hands roaming as you and abby kiss, and feel ellie’s pelvis pressing against your ass. it takes you a moment for you to realize that she’s grinding herself against it, and the idea makes your underwear more soaked than it already was. abby nips at your bottom lip and you moan into her mouth.

ellie’s hands come down to palm and squeeze your ass.

“you’re fucking perfect,” ellie murmurs, still humping your ass like a bitch in heat.

you pull back from abby to take off your shirt, leaving you in your jeans and bra.

abby starts kissing your neck and chest as ellie unclasps your bra, helping you take it off. as soon as it’s off, ellie’s hands reach around you to squeeze your breasts.

“jesus christ…” ellie whispers, rolling your nipples between her thumb and index finger as you moan softly.

abby breath is coming heavier as she manhandles you to sit on one of the benches in the locker room. you don’t resist at all, completely ready for whatever comes next.

abby motions to ellie as she kneels between your legs, “come on, there’s one for each of us,” as she latches onto your nipple, sucking and squeezing one of your breasts.

ellie quickly goes beside abby, your legs spread as wide as they can with the two girls between them. ellie licks over your other nipple and blows on it, getting it hard.

“so fucking cute-“ ellie says before suckling your breast as well, her eyes closed as she moans in the back of her throat.

you look down, and your clit is pulsing against the seam of your jeans as you watch both girls latched onto your breast.

ellie pulls back, watching abby suck on your breast with flushed cheeks. abby notices that ellie is watching her and she pulls back to see what’s up. as soon as she does, ellie pulls her into a heated kiss.

you’re mesmerized as the two girls kiss each other aggressively, ellie’s hands coming up to tug on abby’s hair. abby moans as she gropes ellie’s small chest through her shirt. when they detach, ellie stands up, her eyes sparkling.

“i have an idea,” ellie says as she goes over to her backpack, rummaging around through it until she pulls out a satin, black bag. she opens it and pulls out a purple strap-on.

abby laughs a little, “williams, why the fuck do you casually have a strap in your backpack? do you bring that to every game or something?”

ellie’s face goes red, “fuck you. i like to be prepared, it’s not my fault you don’t have bitches. besides, are you complaining?”

abby snorts, “no, i guess i’m not.”

ellie takes off her shirt and pants, leaving her sports bra on as she puts on the strap. “anderson, lie down on the ground.”

too everyone’s surprise, abby follows ellie’s order.

“good girl.” ellie motions to you, “and you, take off your jeans and sit on her face, okay?”

you nod quickly, stripping completely naked before crawling onto abby. you look into your eyes, “you okay with this?”

abby nods eagerly, “very okay.”

you grin and situate yourself over her face, and you don’t have any warning before abby’s strong arms wrap around your thighs and pull you down so you’re fully sitting on her face.

you moan involuntarily as abby’s tongue laps over your wet cunt, completely vulgar noises coming from her mouth with a muffled, “you taste fucking incredible-“

ellie watches as abby pleasures you, and she rubs the base of the strap against her clit as she admires the two of you.

abby starts sucking on your clit and you moan loud, your eyes rolling back into your head. ellie approaches you two, watching abby eat you out.

ellie kneels down behind you, pressing her chest to your bare back, “wanna try and take me, baby?”

you nod eagerly, “please.”

ellie doesn’t need anyone confirmation before slipping two fingers into your pussy, curling them as abby suckles your clit. you moan loudly, your breaths heavy.

“so fuckin’ tight… you’re gonna feel fucking incredible on my cock, baby, i promise-“ ellie says as she takes out her fingers, sucking them clean, “fuck, abby wasn’t lying, you taste good.”

ellie positions her strap, rubbing the tip over your folds to tease you a little. you whimper, and that’s about all ellie can take before slipping the strap into you. you’re now on your hands and knees, with abby below you still at work on your clit, and ellie behind you as she starts thrusting into you.

“that pretty pussy is so fucking desperate for us, huh?” ellie says, her core tight as she grips your hips.

you moan at that, nodding, intense pleasure coursing through your body.

ellie laughs a little, thrusting harder, “do you have any fucking idea what you did to us out there, pretty girl? fucking distracting us- so fucking sexy-“ ellie pants, her eyes rolling back as she gets the friction she needs on her clit.

your orgasm is rapidly approaching, your body overwhelmed with stimulation. “i-i’m gonna-“

you nearly scream as you climax, your legs shaking with pleasure as you writhe around. ellie watches with a big grin on her face, fucking you as hard and as fast as she can through it.

when you come down, abby lifts you off her face with ease, “my turn.”

ellie takes off the strap and passes it to ellie, “oh, think you can fuck her better?”

abby huffs a laugh, “i know i can, williams.”

abby puts on the strap and strips off her clothes, keeping you in doggy as ellie come’s around in front of your face. ellie takes off her sports bra and boxers, sitting in front of your and spreading her legs, exposing strings of her arousal between her thighs, her auburn bush soaked in pre-cum.

you waste no time before diving in, your tongue lapping up her juices. ellie grunts and her hands fly to your head, keeping you in place, “jesus fucking christ-“

abby takes this moment to lick your cunt up from behind, tasting your cum from your previous orgasm before lining the strap up with your entrance and thrusting in deep without warning.

you moan into ellie’s pussy, and thrust your tongue down her entrance before replacing it with two fingers. ellie moans again, her eyes squeezing shut.

ellie fucked you relentlessly and hard, making you see stars, but abby fucks you like she’s trying to savor every moment, her eyes locked on your pussy as it stretches around the strap.

“you were made to take this dick, oh my god,” abby moans, thrusting deep and slow.

ellie starts whimpering as you suck on her clit, thrusting your fingers hard into her.

abby laughs a little at ellie’s reaction, never having seen ellie so docile.

“awww, you just needed to get your shitty attitude fucked out of you, huh, williams?”

ellie can barely respond, her head tilted back as you pleasure her, her stomach muscles trembling.

abby starts fucking you a little faster, wrapping an arm around you to play with your clit.

“can you give me one, princess? i don’t wanna be left out…” abby says, her chest pressed against your back as she fucks you.

every time you moan against ellie’s clit, still sucking it, and it sends delicious vibrations through it, amplifying ellie’s pleasure and making her tip over the edge, crying out as she climaxes.

you work ellie through her climax, despite your 2nd impending climax building in your lower belly.

as soon as she’s done, ellie stands up and moves behind abby, running her hands all over abby’s body.

abby moans as ellie plays with her nipple, her other hand coming down to squeeze abby’s ass before slipping a finger into abby’s cunt as abby fucks you.

abby moans unexpectedly, “fucking christ- more, elllie-“

ellie grins and slips in another finger, pumping her fingers in time with abby’s thrusts, curling them up each time ellie’s fingers bottom out.

abby’s pants come quicker, rubbing your clit faster. just as you’re sent into your next orgasm, abby cries out, fucking herself into you as she cums on ellie’s fingers.

when you both come down, abby slowly slips out of you, sitting on the cold locker room floor and leaning against ellie as abby pulls you into her lap.

“feeling okay?” abby asks as ellie brushes your hair out of your sweaty face.

you laugh weakly, still panting, “much better than okay.”

both girls giggle a little at that, and ellie asks with a cocky smirk, “so… who fucked you better?”

abby elbows ellie and ellie rolls her eyes, rubbing her arm.

you smirk a little and say, “hmmm… it was hard to tell. maybe we’ll have to do this again sometime to repeat the study, y’know?”

abby grins as ellie laughs, squeezing your thigh.

“well, in that case, we have to. in the name of accurate results. science, even.” ellie says as she settles in to abby’s side.

abby laughs this time, one arm wrapping around ellie’s bare shoulders, “damn, i guess we do.”

#rose writes #ellie williams #tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby x reader #ellabs x reader #ellabs #abby anderson

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vervainandspritz · 7 days ago

Text

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut

A/N: thanks for reading guys

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

Y/N was never a light sleeper, but this particular time waking up felt way more difficult than usual. Her head was hurting from all the crying and the last thing she could remember was Tommy holding her against his chest and the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with his own unique scent before she nodded off, unable to handle the recent events.

“Mrs. Shelby, you're awake” One of the maids spoke up with a gentle smile, putting a steaming tea on the nightstand by her side.

Sitting up, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“I'm not a Shelby” She responded with more annoyance than she'd like.

“Oh” The older woman said with a hint of shame. “My apologies. Mr. Shelby asked to bring you tea and some pain relief tonic,”

Y/N nodded, thanking her quietly before she rose from the bed, looking around. The room looked familiar in a less than pleasurable way, just like the clothes she was wearing. Sighing deeply she walked out of the room, seeing the dark corridor of the places she once called home.

After getting refreshed and dressed, Y/N walked toward the grand staircase. She stopped cold, feeling goosebumps running through her spine in the worst possible way when she saw the monumental portrait of Thomas and her in the stairwell. One she used to see everyday. The eyes on the portrait looked as lively as ever, mocking the pain she held in her chest every time she saw it. There she was, the former lady of the house, laying claim to her domain even from the grave. The longer she stared at her, the more she felt Grace was taunting her. “You may have been his woman once, but I have his heart and his ring on my finger now.” The words rang in her ears, coming from the depths of her memory, loud as the day she heard them for the first time. Y/N couldn't seem to be able to tear her gaze away, silently battling the ghost that seemed to curse her relationship forever.

She stood there for a long moment, immersed in the painting so much that she didn't realise she was being watched.

Thomas stood in the doorway on the other side of the corridor, watching her silently losing the battle as shame gnawed on his insides. He should have thrown it away long ago, but it was the last thing on his mind as he desperately looked for Y/N everywhere. The dead woman on his wall wasn't a big concern.

“You're awake” He spoke up, unable to handle the silence anymore.

She turned around, almost startled, as he caught her staring at her. The first thing she noticed were the glasses on his nose, and she fought against the little smirk that tried to appear on her lips so badly.

“What am I doing here? Where are the boys?” She asked, straight to the point. Thomas shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, knowing she wouldn't be happy with the news.

“Boys are with Frances upstairs, playing.” He responded, looking her in the eyes. “You're not safe outside of Arrow house. You three need to stay here until the vendetta is over.”

“What if you had more men surrounding my flat instead?” Y/N bargained.

“It’s too dangerous and I need my men concentrated not spread out over cities” he replied, already prepared for the questions he knew she'd ask.

She wanted to argue so badly. Y/N wanted to be free from him and the reminders of the past that this house held. But she knew that receiving a black hand was a serious threat she didn’t have the capacity to handle by herself.

“The only reason I'm not leaving right now is because I need to keep them safe.” She said, stepping closer. “...and if anything happens to us, I want you to know that it's all your fault.”

Despite knowing and seeing the pure hatred in her eyes, Thomas could never fully brace himself for the impact of her words.

“Nothing will happen to any of you. I give you my word” He said, quieter this time.

“Your word means nothing to me, Thomas. Just… just stay away from us as much as possible.” Y/N added, wanting to walk away.

“You can't expect me to stay away. They.. are my kids. My sons.” He said suddenly, and the confidence and fierceness of his voice made her stop in her tracks. “I regret losing you every single day. Every day I grieved the loss of my bloody heart, and then I found out there's three I should have been grieving. But you're here, and so are they. So I won't let yo–them go.” He hissed out, almost frantically and the vulnerability in his eyes made her slightly tremble. It hurt even more, because she waited so long to hear.. anything. Any crumb of reassurance would be enough to keep her here, but he didn't say a fucking word.

Straightening her back, Y/N inhaled a deep breath, looking back at the bloody portrait who was witnessing the whole scene. Seconds later she looked at him again, and the fire in his eyes was more lively, outweighing the dead, judgemental stare.

“They won't call you their father. If you break this rule, you won't see us again.”

***

The next day Y/N woke up, bracing herself for another battle as she walked down the stairs and to her surprise, the portrait was… gone. Her heart thumped wildly at the realisation and she couldn't believe her eyes. Suddenly the tension in the house seemed to have lessened.

Walking to the kitchen, she noticed Thomas sitting by the table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette in his hand, as he read the newspaper. It felt weirdly domesticated and the thought alone made her smirk.

“Did the boys eat?” She asked, not sure what to expect.

“Frances fed them an hour ago. Tommy is napping in the living room, and Nick is picking daisies with Mary in the garden.” He responded in a calm tone, not tearing his gaze away from the newspaper.

Silence hung in the air as they each did their own thing

Finishing up her breakfast, Y/N cleared her throat again as she looked at the wall in front of her.

“The portrait is gone” She pointed out in an emotionless voice, not looking at him. A couple longer moments passed before she heard him exhale a cloud of smoke.

“What portrait? He responded, and Y/N’s lips stretched into a subtle smile before she grabbed her plate and walked away.

A couple days later Y/N still avoided him, occasionally getting to talk to John or Arthur, but both of them were distracted by the giant threat hanging over the family. Polly seemed to keep it together the best, coming over whenever she felt like it for some female company.

Y/N said her goodbyes to Polly, going to put the cups into the sink and cleaning the mess after Nick. She wasn't used to having maids doing everything for her, so it was more comfortable to just clean the mess herself. Nick himself was currently spending time with his uncles by the stables, and Tommy was… who knows where.

After cleaning, Y/N went looking for the other boy, asking Frances who just directed her to the little room where the toys were stored.

She expected everything, but not the view she saw arriving in the doorway. Little Tommy sat back on his legs, watching with wide eyes and furiously colouring the different shapes Thomas drew for him.

“Dat?” Tommy asked suspiciously, pointing towards the crooked flower on the paper and glancing at him with big eyes.

“This?” He asked with a grin, “that's a flower” he explained, to which the boy nodded, narrowing his eyes lightly.

“...and dat?!” He asked suddenly in a squeaky tone, seeing the car Thomas drew for him.

“That's a car. Almost” He chuckled, seeing the crooked shapes as he tried his very best.

Tommy nodded, grinning in the same way as his father before glancing at his mum.

“Hi!” He waved, before pointing to the flower again. “fwowa!” he said proudly, pushing his little chest forward.

Thomas just laughed quietly, putting the pencil down.

“Good job, little man” he said, before slowly rising from the floor with a groan.

“Oh God, I'm too old for this” He whispered with a chuckle, glancing at Y/N who wasn't able to suppress the smile on her face after she heard Tommy talk. “Don't smile like that, now it's your turn.” Thomas added, passing by her in the doorway, his shoulder brushing against hers.

***

The next couple weeks were… rougher. Changretta was relentless in his search, which turned into a couple of seriously dangerous situations where John got shot in the chest barely coming out alive. Polly didn't agree with a lot of Thomas' actions, despite his inability to back off right now. He stood his ground, no matter how difficult it was sometimes to keep Y/N inside Arrow house whenever worse moments would arrive. And they did, fairly frequently.

The pull he felt became stronger and stronger, no matter how many daggers she kept throwing. Spewing the words she held deep inside, reminding him of the monster he used to be… or maybe still was? He couldn't tell. The view in the reflection of his mirror was so blurry, that it didn't matter. As long as she saw him to be fit enough to be around boys.

The house was completely quiet as he made his way through the corridor, lacking the usual sounds of kids playing or Y/N walking from one room to the other. Walking past the library, he caught a glimpse of light coming from the room that made him stop in his tracks.

His hands trembled with anxiety. The fear settled in his ribs over three years ago and hasn't left him once, even though they were here.

Thomas was aware of how powerless he was once the vendetta was over. The thought of them leaving the house and never coming back was making his heart squeeze painfully, reminding him of the privilege he once had, but gave it up willingly. The fear was like a loop, tightening around his throat with each passing day as he grew comfortable coming home and seeing them here.

Walking into the library, Thomas was completely quiet, wanting nothing but to see her if it was all he could count on. He was completely unaware of the fact that she always felt his presence. Sometimes letting him stay, and other times making him leave so desperately that made him wonder whether it was possible to day from a broken heart.

Step after step he tried to control his shallow breathing as he finally saw her. Standing by the big shelf, he traced over the backs of books standing there for so long, it felt like they were always there.

“You wouldn't like that one” He spoke up quietly, noticing how she didn't even budge hearing his voice. It took a longer moment before she replied.

“How so?” Her voice was calm, light-hearted as she found herself lost in the countless stories filling up the wooden shelves. The nagging thoughts in his mind disappeared the second he heard her voice.

“Because you don't like uncertainty. It's filled with unanswered questions and has an open ending.” He thought for a moment before replying, well aware of the content of this book, because he read them all. In the moments of despair, trying to hold onto every scrap of feelings in the house so empty, it felt like nobody lived inside.

Sighing deeply, Y/N put the book back in its place, grabbing another one.

“Nobody likes uncertainty, Thomas. Holding onto the moment, unsure of what's to come.” She sighed, hearing his slow footsteps approaching. “A book is just a book. You can close it, and move onto another one anytime. If only life was just as easy.”

Silence in the room caused the whole scenery to become more intimate, unexpectedly even for him. Stopping mere inches behind her, he watched the back of her head for a moment, remembering the nightmares he had every night. Ones where he couldn't reach her, no matter how he tried.

His breath caught in his throat as he slowly raised his hand, moving it closer and closer towards her shoulder. Inches away, he noticed the goosebumps covering her skin. Without looking he reached out to the shelf, grasping onto the book he knew by heart, while his arm brushed against her own.

He stood close, too close, and Y/N knew it too well, yet she couldn't bring herself to make him leave or pull away. The way he trembled as his chest pressed lightly against her back made her stand still.

“You'd love this one” He whispered, not feeling brave enough to speak loudly. The uncertainty they talked about he knew better than anything else.

Her breathing became heavier, feeling him so close, the tingling on her skin she hadn't felt for so long almost made her flinch. Slowly, she turned around facing him.

This, Thomas didn't expect as she suddenly looked up, their eyes meeting in a gaze long forgotten, yet still alive and lively as when they looked for the first time.

“I don't read anymore” She confessed quietly, and his eyes couldn't help but watch her lips intently. The way they wrapped around the words she spoke.

The urge to grab and hold her closer was strong, almost too strong. Tommy tilted his head to the side, getting a better look at her face in the dim light.

“I can read it to you” He offered quietly, as it was the closest she allowed him to… just be near her.

So he waited, scared of ruining the moment as she moved closer. Their noses brushing against each other.

“I wanted you to speak, not read.” The sound of her voice was like the most beautiful music he ever got to listen to, even though the words were far from it. “...but now it's too late, and you're standing too close.” her breath touched his lips, taunting.

…and then she pulled away, leaving him standing there. Slowly making her way out of the library.

“You're cruel” He said, loud enough for Y/N to hear.

***

Y/N opened her eyes suddenly, sitting up as she took a deep breath, desperately trying to blink away the nightmare she had. The clock showed three AM in the morning, and her heart was pounding from the fear she felt. One she rarely felt anymore, feeling as Thomas was taking it over day by day, despite her unwillingness to share anything. Even the broken, ugly parts he ruined.

His cold eyes kept looking at her in the dream, so unfazed by the idea of her absence. The humiliation turned into physical tears rolling down her cheeks as the memories clouded her reasoning.

Getting up from her bed, she remembered the way he touched her. Avoiding her eyes, throwing his head back. Not bothering to bare himself, so eager to take but never give. Forcing her to pour from a completely empty cup.

Her bare feet were cold against the floor as she quickly made her way through the corridor, knowing where she'd find him. Swiftly opening the door to his office, Y/N didn't bother to say a word or wipe her tears away as she quickly walked up, not looking him in the eyes.

“Y/N?” He asked, taking his glasses off and setting them on his desk while she suddenly pulled him back, creating more space to straddle his lap. Tears kept streaming in a smaller amount, but never ending as she ripped his shirt open, baring his chest.

“What are you–” He tried to speak up, but she didn't let him, as she pressed her lips against his so aggressively his breath caught in his throat.

Pulling on his belt she unbuckled it skillfully, a motion she knew too well from all these years ago. The inner pain burned her chest as she kissed and bit him, while pushing his arms away.

“Shut up” She hissed, as the humiliation from the memories took over her mind. The shame of giving and never asking for more. Of being taken and left without any rest. Pulling his pants open she stroked him impatiently, doing just enough to get him going. It wasn't difficult, as he was the only man she ever slept with, knowing his habits and body more than she'd care to admit.

Her nails raked over his throat and chest, ripping a deep groan from his throat.

He didn't dare to ask, feeling and giving everything she wanted to take. Despite the burning, the physical attraction and need she felt was stronger, her arousal glistening and visible as she lined him up with her entrance, not caring enough to be slow or subtle as she sank down on him fully. A subtle moan pushed past her lips as she squeezed her eyes tightly, doing the same thing he used to.

His eyes were wide open, taking the beautiful sight of her on top of him, but the expression on her face made him hurt so badly, he thought he might not survive. He reached out, wanting her to look at him, but she refused, keeping her eyes squeezed tightly as she moved on top of him frantically chasing her release.

“Y/N” He begged quietly, as her hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing to cause pain.

“I hate you. I hate you so much” She whimpered, as his fingers dug into her thighs.

“Please” He whispered, and she let go of his throat, digging her nails into his shoulders.

Thomas wanted to reach out to wipe her tears away, but he knew she wouldn't let him.

So he leaned forward, his forehead pressing against her collarbone when he let out a shaky breath.

“I love you” He whispered weakly, holding her tightly as she haven't stopped moving even for a second, brimming on the edge.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you” She cried out, opening her eyes as she looked down at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were half lidded but he didn't give up, staring and repeating like mantra.

“I love you” kept spilling from his lips as she reached her peak, causing him to follow right after as they reached the release.

His head fell forward, tears escaping his tired eyes as she quickly got off of him, leaving him without a word.

***

Y/N was growing increasingly restless inside of the Arrow House. Her days had been filled with reading and finding activities to keep her sons occupied, which took less time than usual, as Thomas took every opportunity to spend time with them. There was one room she had only been in once prior on this visit. She shuddered at the memory of her desperate conflicted intimacy with Thomas. Y/N knew that room would hold a concentrated form of his presence and essence, even more so after that night. She wasn’t sure if she felt strong enough to enter his sanctum again, but while Thomas was away on business and her boys were having their afternoon nap, the curiosity overcame her hesitation as she entered his space.

It was incredibly… him with deep mahogany furnishings and sumptuous emerald accents. During that night, she had paid no attention to the surroundings in the office - only to him and her inner emotions. Slowly she went deeper into his study, turning on a lamp at his desk. She could picture him here with those round glasses on, absorbed in matters of business both legitimate and less so. To the side of his desk was a small curio cabinet filled with antiquities and presumably family mementos. It hardly garnered a second thought from her until she noticed a figurine on the top shelf next to an old photograph of Thomas and his siblings. It was the figurine.

Before the war, before everything changed, she and Thomas would wander around Birmingham together - young and full of optimism. Both their families were poor and doing their best to survive in the cruel world, but they were the dreamers of their respective clans. He and Y/N often visited a certain shop that sold trinkets and collectables. Y/N yearned to be able to spend money on frivolous little objects like these one day. There was a specific figurine that she longed to own: a porcelain ballerina with graceful fingers and a white and pink lace ruffled skirt. She thought ballerinas were the most fairy-like women that walked the Earth. Of course neither of them could afford such a beautifully crafted figurine, but Y/N swore that one day they would walk in that shop and purchase her ballerina without a second thought to the cost.

That never happened, yet here it was, that same figurine she had seen so many years before sitting in Thomas’ curio cabinet in his most sacred space of his home. She didn’t know what it meant, but she felt tears prick her eyes at the reminder of those beautiful days from their youth. If only they could be like that again. If only the war and the turmoil after it hadn’t soured the tender young love they had known.

“I see you found your way back to my study” Thomas’ deep voice called from the doorway. Y/N was startled. She had been so lost in her memories and feelings that she hadn’t noticed his presence. She shifted awkwardly.

“Yeah, it seems like it.” She responded, glancing towards the curio cabinet. He slowly came up closer, a small grin on his face.

“What did you find?” Thomas asked, tilting his head to the side. Of course he knew what she saw, but wanted to hear it.

“I can’t believe you remembered my ballerina” Y/N said, not meeting his gaze.

“I went back to the shop to get it, but old Mr. Jones said he’d sold it years before. It took some hunting, but I eventually found her. I was hoping to someday show it to you, but… seems like you found her instead.”

“Why?” she questioned him in a small voice.

“Because this is how I remember you. You always said the ballerina was like a fairy or goddess come to Earth, but to me… when I saw that ballerina figure, I saw you.” Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she glanced back towards the cabinet and then back at the man in front of her. Letting out a deep sigh, she wiped her eyes.

“Why now? Why did it take you so long to… to do this? Anything. I waited so long and… and now it's too late, Thomas.” She said, looking at him with an expression that crushed him. Feeling his breath hitch painfully, he felt his throat tightening. He had grieved over losing her and now that Y/N was physically here, she had never felt more far away from him.

After looking into her eyes for a longer moment, Tommy grabbed her hand, slowly straightening it against his palm while the other one reached to his holster, pulling out his gun. Y/N’s eyes widened, but his gaze remained locked on hers, not faltering.

Finally, he didn't feel the fear. Holding the loaded gun, he slowly shoved it into her smaller hand, aiming it forward before he closed his eyes. Pushing his forehead against the muzzle tightly, keeping her wrist upright.

“Then kill me.” He said out loud, the words hanging in the air for a moment. “Because otherwise I will never let you go, no matter how hard you try.”

Thanks for reading lol bye

@iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @garrison-girl-08 @chaimaarouaine11 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta @honeymoon8

@dannysankletattoo

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snowyquokka · 7 months ago

Note

Hey I saw that you wanted ideas for some angst, thought I would shoot my shot. What if one of or all of them idk you choose the boys calls reader clingy and reader gets insecure about it. It's okay if you don't feel like it tho. Take care of yourself and drink lot's of water❤️❤️ I'm new to your blog but I really love your work hope to see more of it in the future❤️❤️❤️

CLINGY

cw - non idol!minho x gn!reader, angst (😈), swearing, fluffy ending, hurt comfort kinda

wc- 1.1k

a.n - IT’S DONE !! i am exhausted but hey it’s out 😭😭 anyway i’m sorry for being a bit MIA lately, i’ve been having a bit of a rough time but it’s getting better. i’m not sure if i like this piece or not tho :((( I LOVE YOU MUAH <3

AND I JUST REALIZED THIS IS MY FIRST LINO FIC OMG THIS IS A MOMENT IN HISTORY

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All day, the silence in the house seemed to echo with Minho's absence, each tick of the clock stretching the worry tighter across your mind. The morning had started off on the wrong foot, with Minho oversleeping- a rare occurrence which in turn threw off his whole routine. The rushed breakfast, the hasty goodbye—everything felt off-kilter. It was unlike him to be late, especially for his job at the veterinary clinic, a place he often described as his second home, where he could merge his passion for animals with his skills in care and healing. The hurried departure left a cold space in the wake of his frantic energy.

The argument from the night before added layers to your concern. It was one of those disagreements that seemed trivial in the light of day, yet in the shadow of the night, it had grown into a monumental barrier between you two. It wasn't just the words exchanged or the silence that followed, but the unresolved tension that lingered, making the air heavy with unsaid apologies and unexpressed affections. The fact that Minho had been irritable even before the argument didn't help, it only amplified the discomfort, casting a shadow over his usual bright demeanor.

As the day dragged on, you found yourself glancing at the clock, counting the hours until Minho's return. The thought of him dealing with the stress of work on top of everything else weighed heavily on you as guilt settled in. It wasn't just the worry for his mental state, but also the longing for reconciliation. You knew the importance of mending the rift, of clearing the air with conversations that bridged the gap between hurt and healing. The thought of him walking through the door, the opportunity to start anew, to offer a smile as a peace offering, became a beacon of hope in the slow march of the day. But as you continue to relive the argument you can’t help the pang of sorrow that strikes your heart like lighting, complimenting the storm of emotions whirling about your being.

The dispute sparked when you casually asked him about his day. To you, it was a simple question, but Minho perceived it as intrusive, deeming you "too clingy" and expressing his exhaustion with what he viewed as your constant nagging.Since then you’ve been running yourself into the ground trying to get as much stuff around the house as you can. If Minho comes home to a clean house, you think, then there’ll be one less reason for him to be irritated with you.

The sound of keys jingling faintly outside the door interrupts your thoughts. You had just finished cooking dinner and were plating it just in time as Minho to strolls in.

“Mm,“ he hums in approval as he wraps his long arms around your waist, gently tugging your back to his front. He rests his chin on your shoulder as he speaks, “Smells good, baby. Thank you.” You hum and nod, not sure what to do. He was just complaining about you being clingy but here he is, swaying you side-to-side. Minho clearly sensed your apprehension and pulled back with a sigh. “Why am I getting the silent treatment?”

You aren’t sure how to respond to that. You weren’t purposefully trying to ignore him, you’re just confused and you don’t know how to voice that. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment,” you turn around towards him and lean back against the kitchen island, using your hands to brace yourself.

Minho hums and folds his arms over his chest. He raises a brow, wanting you to continue. You huff and tip your head back for a moment before looking directly at him. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to come off too clingy.” Your tone came off a little harsher than you’d planned and you watch as his expression shifts into something more serious, guilty even.

“Shit, baby I- I didn’t mean it, you know that. I shouldn’t have said it and-” You shake your head, effectively cutting him off.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s just-”

His eyes begin to soften as he inches back into your space. “Hey. Hey,” Minho murmurs as his hands find purchase on your shoulders in an attempt to provide at least some semblance of comfort. He’s always been the type to have some sort of contact when talking to you like this. It makes it feel more personal, more sincere, especially when he ends up apologizing. “Don’t do that, you know I hate it. I’m the one who should be sorry, okay? I’m sorry, I was just stressed and I know that isn’t an excuse.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you, I made you upset.”

Minho shakes his head. “I want you to ask about my day, I want you to show that you care. It makes me feel important. You make me feel important.” You pull your lip in between your teeth, a nervous habit you picked up as a child.

"Are you sure? Because I will-" Minho clicks his tongue and leans his forehead against yours, his brown eyes sparkling.

"I never want you to feel insecure about anything I say, regardless of what it is. I understand I can be hot-headed, and I'm working to fix that, but I want you- I need you- to tell me when I’m doing something that’s upsetting you. I love you and I promise you I didn’t mean any of it.” He presses a soft, chaste kiss on the tip of your nose with a smile. The action makes your stomach erupt with butterflies and you know everything will be okay. You’ll always bounce back and find your way back to each other.

Minho looks down and locks his pinkys around yours before looking back up at you. “You okay now?” You nod and lean against him further with a content sigh.

“I love you too, Min.” Minho begins to open his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“Even if you’re a dick sometimes.” You say with amusement laced in your tone and a grin.

“I guess I’m lucky you put up with me then.”

“Now you’re getting it,”

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tags: @godslino @seungseung-minmin @myseungsunglove @azuna-sz @kaiyaba @solisyeah

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mingtinysworld · 7 months ago

Text

Adrenaline Rush

Pairing: choi jongho x fem!reader

Genre: smut, fluff

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Jongho needs to blow off some steam after he's not satisfied with a performance, and you happen to be there for his assistance. Not that you mind.

Warnings: MDNI, rough, mean jongho, one face slap, throatfucking, hair pulling, degradation kink, use of names like (fucktoy, cumslut), cum swallowing

A/n: I SWEAR I did NOT plan to make Jongho this mean??? But it's ok because he's all cute and sweet at the end. I do love me a mean jongho though. Enjoyyyy please like, comment, and reblog!! - J<3

You nervously wait backstage, eyes on the monitor as staff put up the intricate set pieces for Ateez's stage. You know how hard the boys have worked for this insanely monumental opportunity. Especially Jongho, who has been nonstop belting his voice to perfect the high notes.

A few hours prior, Jongho had started feeling pain in his throat. He was afraid of letting down the group when he's known to be the powerhouse vocal that he is. You knew that no matter what, he would do an amazing job, but you were nervous on his behalf due to his harshness to himself.

You let out a stuttered breath and bounce your leg as they go on stage. They look majestic, and everyone in the crowd seems to absolutely love them. They perform almost their whole set, everything being more than perfect. You feel like crying from how proud you are, of each and every member. Then it's time for Wonderland.

This is the song that Jongho has been nervously dreading. The intense belt of 4 octaves leaves him to dread it every time. But you know that he kills it every single time, and you're certain he will today as well.

He steps forward, takes a deep steady breath, and goes for it. It's as if angels have come down to make you ascend with them. You're convinced that Jongho is not a real human being, he's an angel. No one could be that perfect, that talented, that beautiful. Your jaw is wide open with amazement, and you feel like you could cry.

They take their bows as the crowd erupts with so much love and appreciation for Ateez. They start walking offstage and you go to meet and congratulate them. You scream and clap as they emerge one by one, making them look at you with exhausted adoration. As soon as you see Jongho you lunge towards him, looping your arms around his neck and squealing with excitement.

"Babyyyy oh my god that was amazing. I'm so so proud of you!!" You give him countless pecks across his cheeks as he holds you loosely. You pull back to see his face is pulled taut and jaw clenched, and you tilt your head in confusion.

"Love? What's wrong?" You ask with a pout.

He closes his eyes for a few seconds and takes a deep breath. He leans closer to your face and speaks with a barely recognizable voice.

"If I don't fuck your face right now I think I might explode." He says intensely.

Your eyes widen at his admission and you feel like you're hit with lightning from head to toe. You swallow thickly and attempt to speak but all that comes out is a jumble of words.

"Jongho w-why are you so intense?" All you feel at the moment is pure arousal, slick coating your thin underwear. He groans dramatically and hangs his head.

"I messed up and I'm so goddamn angry right now I can barely speak." He manages with gritted teeth.

"But you did-" Before you can finish your encouraging sentence he grabs your wrist and spins you around, holding it behind your back. He leads you towards an empty costume room and you can feel his solid body walking right behind you.

"Shut the fuck up and let me use your mouth. The only good use for it apparently." You comply immediately and let him handle you like a rag doll, enjoying every second of it. As soon as he locks the door, he throws you down to the floor and you look up at him with a wide eyed expression that is screaming "ruin me."

It would truly be a shame if he didn't complete your request, so really he's only being the generous and giving boyfriend that he is. You take fluttery breaths in anticipation and sit there looking so pretty and pliant for him.

He steps forward and with one hand caresses your cheek gently. You close your eyes in bliss and lean into his touch like an obedient kitten. That is until he delivers a harsh slap to the same worshipped cheek. You jolt in surprise and hiss at the sting his palm left, but you stay as still as possible to be a good girl for Jongho.

He smiles like he just won a reward. Maybe he did because the sight of you in front of him is enough to make him burst. He pulls down his pants low enough to pull his aching cock out, but still being mostly dressed. He's leaking so much precum that it's threatening to spill onto the floor and you have to resist the urge to just lick him clean immediately.

He hooks a thumb into your mouth, lifting your head backwards to a point of almost discomfort. The light bounces off of your glazed eyes, making them look like pools of desire and helplessness. He pushes down on your tongue and you don't waste any time wrapping your lips around his digit and giving him a preview of what's to come.

Patience running thin, he pulls his finger out of your soft mouth with a pop, and gathers your hair into one fist. With the other hand he guides his leaking member into your awaiting mouth. You instantly choke around him, somehow forgetting how thick he really is. You try to breathe calmly through your nose to control your gag reflex.

He slides in farther, reaching to the entrance of your throat. He gives an experimental thrust and goes through the restrictive barrier between your mouth and throat. You instinctively swallow around him, resulting in him throwing his head back and groaning. He loses all self control and starts using your throat according to his needs.

He sets a wild pace instantly, hips never stuttering. He hits the back of your throat so sharply that you're sure you'll have giant bruises leftover. Jongho seems to have ascended to a completely different world, with his eyes closed like he's enjoying a nice yoga session. You dig your fingernails into your palms, leaving crescent indents. You want to do your best for Jongho, be a stress reliever, be the best fucktoy he's ever had. It's as if he's read your mind, because in the next second he starts to degrade you to the point your head feels cloudy.

"Who's a good fucktoy? Yeah that's right, you are. Forever my little cumslut aren't you? God I love the way your mouth feels, I could fuck it forever." The only thing you can do is let out pathetic whimpers to confirm his words. You love being used by him, being his toy. As he nears his orgasm he goes even harder. He's now using your hair to pull you back and forth along his length, sending pleasurable sharp pain to your abused scalp.

Your nose meets his stomach and you're held there while Jongho's shooting his load into your throat. You sputter and gargle around him, releasing droplets around the side of your mouth. His stomach clenches in and out as he empties everything into you. As soon as he pulls you off of him you start to cough intensely. He immediately locates a water bottle to soothe your sore throat. You gulp it down greedily, savoring every precious drop.

He helps pull you up, and supports your wobbly form. Even if he treats you so roughly, you're always his princess first and foremost. He runs a gentle hand down your back, rubbing soothingly.

"Did I do too much, my love?" He whispers worriedly.

You shake your head assuredly. "No baby, you were perfect. You were perfect on stage too you know." You croak with a raised eyebrow. He laughs at your expression and softens up.

"Oh what did I do to deserve you? I just think the world of you sweetheart." He rests his head against your forehead, breathing deeply. Your heart beats loudly, feeling the flutter of a thousand butterflies inside. You break apart and give him a cheeky grin.

"I demand a bath and a massage." You raise your head defiantly, daring him to disagree. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head in disbelief.

"You don't ever change oh my god. How about I do you one better? I'll give you a bath and massage while singing you your favorite songs. Followed up by some very cuddly cuddles. What do you think?" He asks.

"I think you have yourself a deal mister Choi best singer and performer Jongho." You give him a bow and he playfully smacks you.

"Alright alright, get it together." He pretends to grumble grumpily.

"Okayyy mister bear." You retort while running away.

"HEY.” He says while chasing after you.

#ateez #ateez smut #mingtinysworld #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #choi jongho #jongho #jongho smut

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eldritch-spouse · 4 months ago

Note

Can we get Santi making his match ~Properly~ apologize after they gave in and resummoned him after banishing him?

[Ohhh I'm gonna hurt you good. Fem reader.]

TW: Manipulation; Brief but descriptive past gore; Struggling with trauma; Angst and abuse.

Ironic, isn't it?

You did it. You successfully banished a high-ranking demon from your life. Not just any high-ranker, one that claimed to be your "match". You had assumed that was just another appeal to emotions back then, a trick to wrap your around his pinkie further, but you've done a lot of research in order to successfully pull off what you did, and there's no lie to be found in those words.

Few humans can drive their matches away for good, very few. You have the scars to show for it, certainly. The ragged rifts on your limbs from when Santi had sunk his claws so very deep into your flesh, raking them down and tearing your muscles apart in the process. You have a bad eye. It's not blind, but it's definitely not as good as its twin. Lastly, of course, there's the dead and withered mark on your mons... Faded, but still there, still visible, still mocking you every single time you look at yourself in the mirror.

It's been years.

Yet you still scrub at it ruthlessly, hoping that it'll disappear little by little, like a grease stain. The nightmares remain, feeling it throb through your entire organism, glowing that hellish magenta, signaling the nearness of your personal castigator. Your unrequited pest that, much like a cockroach, refuses to die.

It's been years...

And he's still haunting you.

He's in Hell, probably in Lust if you had to guess, where he belongs- And he's still fucking up your life. Poetic, a true demon.

The exhaustion you felt the moment Santi successfully got phased back into the fires has stayed since. It dug roots into your soul, hugging it possessively, his parting gift to you- Numbness.

You reinvented your life.

New hairstyle, new fashion, new place to live, new interests, new friends. It felt like the only way to be free of the incubus was to become anyone but the person he claimed to have fallen in love with.

No matter what you did, what new hobby you took on or what personal goal you achieved, you never felt accomplished, never felt good. Psychologists treated your supposed chronic depression with every tactic they had, only succeeding in making you feel even more pathetic when every single one of them failed.

It was clear you were not in the mindset to begin any type of relationship, but... Your libido demanded it of you. It's unclear what changed your appetite. Was it the mark? Was it the constant sexual contact you had before? Or is it just that you can't satisfy yourself anymore? Maybe all.

You tried sex again once.

It was... A monumental disappointment.

Enough to make you swear it off, and live in a gross state of constant frustration, unsolvable no matter how much you pushed yourself into new spaces to attain new sensual experiences. Maybe, maybe you just had to try something different, right? Try a few kinks.

No, not even the almost shameful collection of toys you've amassed since Santi's been gone have done a single thing to relieve you properly. Every orgasm feels dull and requires too much effort.

You started hating yourself when the only thing that seemed to make you cum faster was thinking of him.

The image of your very own abuser above you, whispering sweet encouragements in your ear and moaning as he sunk his cock into you. The thought of his skin on yours was enough, it was effective- And the wave of pure self-hatred that rolled over you when you orgasmed crying his name was strong enough to make you break down into screaming tears, naked and soaked and humiliated.

You'd wake up in fetal position, throat hoarse, the crust of your own pleasure sticking to your thighs, numb as per usual.

It's been years, of this.

And today, you've given up.

It wasn't a spur of the moment decision, of course not. It was more of a slow spiral into hopelessness.

Is this misery going to be the rest of your life? This insupportable existence.

You'd rather never live another day than allow it to continue. And if, to fix it, you need Santi again... Then you need him again.

Is it weak of you, to do this? Maybe a stronger, more dignified person would choose death. But you've been worn down, you've never recovered, you're still on his fucking palm!

Were you ever truly free of Santi?

What does it matter, right? If you're still going back to him after all this.

Making a summoning circle is easier, certainly more so than cleverly hiding a banishment circle. Droplets of shame drip down your cheeks as you arrange it, as you come to terms with your defeat.

In spite of his rank, there's no need for a big offering. Santi will know it is you who's calling him, because of your blood. You're letting him know preemptively. An orgasm should suffice.

There's no need to think about his sigil, the very shape of it is embedded on your frontal lobe, a pesky cattle tag clipped onto your body. It's on your fucking cunt, the blasted thing.

There's a long moment of contemplation where you stare at the spacious circle in your living room. A brief streak of resilience has you wanting to put everything away, except your legs don't budge, stone-like.

Once more, your mind says no, but your body says yes.

Bile rises in your throat, yet if there's anything you've learned to do by now, it's swallowing.

There's an exhausted grimace in your complexion as you sink to your knees before the circle, pushing panties aside, and fall into your guiltiest pleasure. People use the term very loosely these days, you've noticed.

It should disgust you how easy it is, how quick you approached a peak, how the anticipation of feeling his hellishly delightful touch brought you that much closer, that much faster, that much wetter- You're a loser.

And maybe you deserve this. Whatever comes of this.

As soon as you orgasm, the circle pulses, your blood seems to sink into the demonic sigil, and a stillness follows, lulled by the hum of a portal waiting to manifest.

Torpid hues study it. Seconds pass. A minute maybe.

A hysteric little giggle escapes as you wonder if he'll deny you now. Reject you.

No. No, he wouldn't- That filthy piece of scum would suck the grime off your shoes sooner than reject you. Because that's all he is, a worthless fucking worm who should be grateful you're letting him see your face again.

Eventually, a rift cracks through the floor, widening, the symphony of Hell echoing out in a scream of triumph. A hand pushes through, as dark and large as you remember it, sinking into the first anchor it finds. Soon, a great body is pushed through.

Santi.

... Santi?

Your breath catches in your throat.

He looks... Off. Turned away from you, crouched in the circle, it's hard to put your finger on what's changed, but he feels different. His horns have grown bigger, sharper.

Motionless, you watch a thick tail twitch. He rises to a stand carefully, joints cracking when he rolls his neck. God, that's not his usual posture at all. And then, you get to see his face. Gaunt cheeks, a larger, darker mouth with unnatural teeth. Santi's charm had been, in large part, his ability to toe the line between handsome and monstrous, taking advantage of his inhuman abilities to impose and using his sightly features to cause a "scared but horny" effect. That line has been long eroded, if you had to guess.

What strikes you the most are the eyes.

His stare has changed completely. The demon looks... Horrifying. Where once there had been something sharp and seductively warm to hide the evil beneath, there's now a corrosive transparency oozing off him, an animal carelessness. The left eye is particularly dulled, having lost pigment, the pupil won't move, lodged in an upwards position as if midway through rolling back into his skull. The whisker on that eye is also damaged, it looks to have been cut.

Certainly, it wasn't just you that changed.

You both look like complete shit. Well, he looks like shit as much as a concubus can...

Still, once he's fully turned towards his summoner, Santi attempts to put on a familiar mask.

The result is a far cry from the past.

" Minx. "

The incubus nods, his gaze blazing into you, unreadable.

Your mind wars between fear and irritation. The nerve of this motherfucker, to immediately address you the same way he did when you were but his mindless cur! When he did unspeakable things to you in the name of love. This anger is tempered by the shock of his rougher tenor, by the simple fact that you hadn't heard Santi's voice in so long- It feels too real, it feels like he can hurt you just with it.

Returning the favor, you call him by something that'll make him feel vulnerable.

" Noph'ae. "

A slight wrinkle.

Success.

His chest inflates. You think Santi's about to start shouting at you, but he just exhales afterwards. This happens a few times before you realize he's smelling something.

" It's been a while since I've been to the surface. The smells are so different, the lights, you take it for granted until it's stolen from you. "

He stole a lot of things from you that you took for granted too.

When Santi's tongue snakes out, it becomes clear he's now just trying to catch whiff of your recent arousal. Whatever trace of it still wanders.

Surprisingly, all the incubus does afterwards is just... Sit down, in the middle of the circle, continuing to look you up and down, as placid as can be.

You hadn't expect this, needless to say. You assumed there would be anger, indignation, a vicious desire to maul you or demands to let him free. Mockery even. Not this. Not nothing.

Your attempts to stare him down and coax some kind of response -Not that you even know what you want to hear from him. An apology? A justification?- Are fruitless. He just stares back, and speaks when he pleases.

" I see life has treated you harshly. Pity. "

" Shut- " The anger lodged in your throat like a knot makes you choke. " Shut the fuck up. "

He does, waiting. A few seconds pass before you can gather enough calm to say anything.

" I hate you. "

Santi blinks slowly, the words having no effect on him. God knows you've screamed them a hundred times and they never amounted to anything. Why would they now?

Still, the fact that he seemingly won't react to them drives you mad enough to pull at your own hair in a small tantrum.

He smiles faintly at the show.

" Would it please you to hear me say the same? " Santi interrupts the pain, making you all but glare venomously at him.

" It would make you happier if I said I hate you too, right? After you banished me. That I only exist to make you hurt. That I answered your call just so I could wait for a moment to kill you. " He sighs. " That's what you want. "

" But that's not the truth. "

When Santi's expression softens, and he spends several moments openly observing you in an almost nostalgic manner, a pit of dread forms in your stomach.

You start shaking your head. " No. No, don't you fucking dare- "

" I love you. "

A shriek bursts out of you. " You piece of shit! You don't know what love is, you know fuck all about love, all you know is how to break someone down to nothing! "

New tears follow tracks already left behind. " You can't even apologize to me. You're just soulless, aren't you? "

" If ever there was someone I loved, it was you. " He taps the floor with his clawtips as he speaks. " I only wanted us to be. You felt it too, but you kept fighting it. I would never willingly let you take away the best feeling I had ever felt. It was my paradise. "

" It was my Hell. "

He frowns.

" Don't lie to yourself. "

Before you can bark anything else at the demon, he continues.

" It was 'your Hell', but here you are, calling for me again. " Silence. " Doesn't add up. "

There's so much you want to say. So much you want to shout at him. Too many ways to contest his arrogance, his shamelessness, too many ways you'd like to torture him. The rage fueling you, generating those fantasies, dies when you realize it's all pointless.

Santi won't ever believe he's wrong. He won't ever say what he did to you wasn't justified. You could probably kill him, he'd still think he was right all along.

It rips the small, sick joy you could attain from picturing him groveling for all his mistakes. Talking to Santi about this is like debating a brick wall. It's time to move on.

He reads the defeat on your face plainly, wisely deciding not to poke further.

" What happened to your eye? "

The incubus tilts his head. " Concerned for me, love? " Again, he hardly allows you to inhale. " I felt that we should match. "

Confusion and anger is a very bad mix. " Is that your idea of a joke?! "

" No I... " Santi has the decency to look away, if even for a second. " I wanted to punish myself. It was never my intent to blind you. "

You huff, then make a broad gesture over your face. " And the rest? "

He lets the question hang for a while, then shrugs. " I've changed. Didn't you? "

As much as you want to deny it, squish it like a bug, reality is that he's been miserable too. It shows. This should make you happy, but all you can feel is a mysterious frustration.

Only in the ensuing silence do you begin to hear the gentle pitter patters of raindrops on the windows. A soothing sound, hushing the turmoil in your racing mind for a fraction of a heavenly beat.

" Will you break the circle, love? " Santi eventually concedes, leaning the least bit forward.

The fact that he's the first to address the matter of his summoning is a small victory for you, one that doesn't please you that much, though you still eat it up. It must be hard for him, seeing you after so long, yet not being able to touch. Must be torture. Good.

There's an avenue of power you'll always have over Santi, a double-edged sword actually, but he's more affected by this than you are. As his match, you are the incubus' most favored meal, and just being in front of him in nothing but your panties is likely chipping at his composure in fast swings.

Not that you are faring that much better, your current arousal may be buried under the scent of your orgasm, but it will fade soon, there'll be nothing to mask the want then. Even if he's endured some changes, the demon before you is still the one that made you reach platforms of pleasure previously unfathomable to you. Even when you didn't want it, even when... The mark...

How can you still want him, even after all this time?

" No. "

The answer comes easily.

" How am I to offer my services then? "

" You're not touching me! " Of course he will, who are you even lying to anymore?

Santi rolls his neck, tail thumping idly while confusion writes itself on his complexion.

Wordlessly, you reach for the waistband of your underwear, removing it slowly. The cloth is aimlessly twirled around your index, then thrown half-heartedly into the circle.

Predictably, pathetically, Santi swipes it before the thing can even make contact with the ground, bringing it to his face instantly. The sound he emits is like a sobbed groan, he rubs himself on it like a house cat, breathing it in, drooling on the fucking thing as he appears to damn near drug himself on the scent of your pussy.

It's satisfying.

It feels powerful, in a depraved and unhealthy way.

Which is why you never expected him to turn to you with a look that gushed utter vitriol.

" Break this circle. " He demands, finally using a voice befitting of his rank and infernal authority.

It's always a shock when Santi does this. The demon so deliberately maintains his tone to a seductive lulling purr, that when his patience chips just enough to let the real beast slip, it thunders through your composure.

" N- No! Be silent! "

Even to yourself, you sound like a frightened bleating animal.

" Pathetic! " The incubus laughs, straightening, leaning those great horns forward just to have you watch when he hooks your panties in the left one. Like a prize. " You summon me out of desperation, then play footsie and cocktease like a coward- "

" Desperation?! " Your own anger rises like burning bile. " Typical of a fucking demon to think so highly of yourself! "

Santi pauses to look at you quietly, wordlessly and petulantly asking you if you're sure that's your answer. A challenge.

" I don't need you for anything! "

" Are you hearing yourself, Minx? Why am I here, then? " A dark finger wags. " Better yet, why did you summon me and not another concubus, hm? "

Wracking your brain for answers that are anything but the truth takes time, time Santi won't offer you.

" I'll tell you why. Because you made a hotheaded decision and you've been living with the consequences of it for all this time. And you can't take it anymore. "

White knuckled fists begin to quake.

" So you banished a high-ranker, ooh la la, quite the feat! " Sardonic clapping rings across the room. " But you don't know how to get that out, do you? "

When Santi points at the mark previously hidden by your panties, goosebumps cover you from head to toe.

" You don't know how to make your mind forget me, much less your needy, luscious little body. " That pointed index moves from your pelvis to your chest. " I rocked you to the very core! The same way you took me by the neck, woman. "

All you can do is gulp, and all he can do is watch the motion of your throat.

" And it's not so easy, shattering our bond, love. We have a beautiful thing, that you've tried to ruin. I still don't know why... But what I do know, is that you've put us both through torture, isn't that right? Or do you think you were the only one miserable all this time? "

For some reason, no matter how angry you are and how much you want to say, the words won't leave your mouth.

" Was it fun? Tell me, did you have a good time? " He's already laughing. " Was it nice to never feel relief, to crave pleasure you could never achieve on your own again? This isn't like smoker's withdrawal, it doesn't go away. Did any body you ever sampled after mine offer even a tenth of what you had? "

It feels like your airway is tightening.

" No. Of course not. You never got it through your skull that neither of us had a choice in this. There are some things in life we don't get to choose, right Minx? We're each other's matches, and we have real chemistry together. That scares the living soul out of you, doesn't it? That you'll always want me. "

A choked cough makes it past your lips. He's as close to you as he can get from within the carved, advanced circle. No salt here, Santi would bulldoze through it immediately.

" As much as I love you, my sweetest delight, you are selfish. More than me. Because you never stopped to put yourself in my shoes. I am just as much of a slave to you as you are to me, there's no denying that. "

The next words he throws at you lash welts into the very fabric of your being.

" Even worlds apart, with all the wards and circles and magical aid, you will still be mine. And I will still be yours. "

Hearing him say what you had recently come to realize makes you deflate in a way you can't even describe. It's the final nail on the coffin you had no idea you were inside of. The last embers of a flame before wind blows it away. He's silent while the waves of defeat wash over your figure.

Several seconds later, Santi resumes with a somewhat calmer lilt.

" We'll never be free of each other, not without the type of pain that would make you rather die than keep breathing. That's what I've been trying to tell you from the very start... So, why don't we start over? "

You hadn't realized that you had begun glaring at the floorboards in the middle of his speech, only now cautiously rising your gaze to the agitated demon trying to gather his own calm.

" After you apologize to me, naturally. "

Finally, your mouth opens. " A- Apologize? "

Santi huffs. " Well yes, love. None of this would have transpired if you had just listened to me all those years back. I rather think I deserve this much, don't you? "

You hate him. You hate him so much. But, most of all, you hate that he's right.

Your fate had already been decided long before you could begin to make a choice. You won't get rid of him, because just like Santi says, even when he's away, your body will torture you to find him again. And it doesn't stop, because you don't have the means to make it stop. He said it perfectly, which might mean he's been mulling over this conversation as many times as you have mentally imagined it.

You're just so tired. Even if every ounce of rage in your heart demands that you send him back into the fire and tough it out, even if it kills you- Another part of you craves rest, comfort, calm. It wants the normalcy and modicum of well-being you'd sometimes feel before.

It wants this to end, at any cost.

Maybe you do have to learn to live with him.

Because it's not a choice for you. For your health or mental stability.

Maybe if things are done just right, you can mold him into a more tolerable person, you can teach him to be more than he once was. It's disgusting that you have to fix Santi, but it's the only way, isn't it? That's the only way to make it work and spare yourself unnecessary torment.

And, to fix him, you first need to make amends.

" I'm... " It's as if your tongue won't move to form the rest of the sentence. It has to be forced. " I'm sorry, Santi. "

Perhaps the only thing that makes it sound sincere is the fact that you're already emotionally exhausted.

The demon hums. " Very nice, that's a start. " You quirk a brow. " But for a proper apology, you should break this circle. "

A denial almost slips off your tongue without thinking, making the demon's gaze harden. Realistically, there's no escaping this. You're going to have to let him out one way or another, might as well have it be a gesture of cooperation. For a better future.

Sighing, you reach behind the slightly shifted couch, knocking three glowing crystals out of the specific order they were previously in. These same crystals were the ones you used to create a circle not even a high-ranker like Santi can break through- They were incredibly expensive, and acquiring them without raising his suspicion proved to be one of the most anxious episodes of your entire life.

Instantly, the glow that once contained Santi and limited the summoning rift's width fades away, leaving only hasty chicken scratch markings on the ground. He looks mildly bewildered that you actually followed through, but the expression wipes itself away quickly.

There's barely enough time for you to turn before Santi's all but prowling after you, a massive body colliding with yours while restless hands instantly dart everywhere.

He seems to want to do everything at once. In his desperate longing, the incubus crushes you against him, palms grabbing the globes of your ass then squishing the fat of your sides as he buries his face into your neck and snarls hard enough to make you quiver like a leaf in the wind. One second he's rubbing your legs luridly, the next he's rolling your tits and trying to lock his teeth around your neck. It's too much too fast, but exactly what your body had been craving for endless time. It wanted his attention, wanted his soothing- Your whines fall somewhere between frustrated and inconsolable, largely drowned out by his vaguely intimidating calls of delight.

Beastly in his want, Santi licks your jaw to a humid, tingling mess before forcibly crashing his lips unto yours, easily weaseling his tongue inside. Traces of your own arousal linger, but are otherwise negligible compared to the euphoria of his kiss. It's just as powerfully addictive as it was the very first time he selfishly stole the gesture.

And, if there's one good thing about Santi's irresistible nature, it's that his pheromones and fluids won't allow you to feel guilt for enjoying this. What a wonderful excuse, to let yourself sink into the experience bereft of all shame.

You can't hope to halt the noise of animal pleasure that rips itself out your throat, something he moans for, happily receiving and encouraging it. Santi's fevered hand eventually snakes downward and palms the faded mark still clinging to you, before reaching further and offering you just the briefest feathered brush against your clitoris. He soaks his digits in your generous wetness to make the motions even more fluid, the teasing very quickly has you shifting your hips in between heated kisses and breathless panting.

No matter how much you wordlessly beg him to indulge what you'd both been deprived of for far too long, Santi doesn't cave. In fact, he growls warningly whenever you try to buck, claws digging into your meat so you can't rock yourself on him.

" None will ever compare. " He finally parts, mouth as coated in your drool as yours is in his. There's a dreamy look in those tired eyes. " I wracked the Rings looking for someone that could satisfy me, and I went mad along the way Minx, but it was okay. "

A force on your shoulders takes you by surprise, the ensuing impact of bare knees on wooden tiles sobers you up gradually. Quiet clicks follow when Santi takes a few steps back.

" Because I knew you'd call for me again. "

What a nice way to say he knew you'd come crawling right back like a bitch in heat...

As you kneel there in disheveled confusion, Santi merely beckons you forward with a deceitfully warm smile.

It's obvious he wants you to crawl, but you still try to play dumb and raise a leg.

" Stand and I will be much meaner to that pretty face, love. "

A threat that instantly stills you.

" I'm not discouraging you, by all means, I miss those times where I could feel you try to breathe through your nose but you were so flush to me you couldn't... "

His words alone evoke a myriad of images, flashes of his teeth twisting into pleased grimaces and the oxygen-deprived skip of your heartbeat while spots danced around the edges of your sight. Memories that feel all too vivid now.

Crawling towards Santi is far from the most embarrassing thing you've done, so it's hardly worth antagonizing him about it.

The monster's own anticipation betrays him and he steps forward to close the last bit of distance between you, expression somewhere between manic and endlessly adoring when he whispers.

" Now, show me you're sorry. "

You know what to do to get the incubus revved up, not that he needs much assistance, seeing as he's practically bursting out his slit.

Keeping eye contact, a reverent kiss to that overheated sheath and a tongue flirting with the edge is all it takes for him to groan, holding your head to the side so you can watch his cock slide out, already throbbing from repressed arousal. Fortunately, nothing's changed on this end. He's still just as mouth-watering as you remember him from all those years ago.

Before you can wrap your lips around him, Santi grabs a soft hold of your hair.

" Tell me about the people you've bedded after me. "

You frown. " I only... Only had sex once. "

The demon tilts his head, mind seemingly shattered by that. " Once? "

After your nod, he nudges you slightly. You get the pleasure of seeing him inhale sharply at the first feel of your warmth around him, a shaky sigh following while he waits for you to worship him properly.

" You poor thing, was it truly that bad? "

There's no answer to be had aside from your slight gag when you attempt to take a little too much of him too soon. Santi pauses just to buck and make you gag again, the gross sound turning him on. He triggers the reflex until your face is flushed and there's strings of drool hitting the floor.

" Ssh sh, that's perfect, just the way I love it. " He murmurs praises when you pull away to cough hard.

" What did you do then, to make it bearable? " Santi appears to forge his own answer. " Did you spend your days fucking yourself to the thought of me? "

Instead of thinking about his words, you just focus on pleasuring the monster, bobbing on him effectively enough to disrupt his train of thought a few times. He makes a guttural sound when you audibly pop your lips and pulses madly.

" Hhn- Did you ever regret it then? In those moments where you were just so close but nothing would get you there... And you knew you banished the only one that could help. "

When you fail to pick up the pace accordingly, Santi rolls his own hips into your now stationary face, occasionally choking you deliberately, but also pausing to simply let himself rest on on your tongue. He intends to languish every moment of this.

" Because I thought of you when nothing and no one could make me cum. I thought of every sound you made and every inch of your stupidly gorgeous skin. " His tone intensifies with his speed, words chopped into tight breaths. " I hope. You crawled. The walls. "

Almost.

" I hope- You screamed. My name. "

You did.

" And I hope. " He pants. " In the end. You cried. "

You... did.

Santi's getting close, you already know all his tells, down to what muscles he twitches when he's nearing an orgasm. Part of being his match is knowing his body well, though not as well as a demon of carnality can read yours.

Instead of wanting to sink as far into your throat as he can, Santi offers mercy to your creaking jaw when he merely has you suck him hard around the most sensitive spot, curling forward slightly in his mounting pleasure.

" That means you learned something from this. So you won't have to cry anymore. "

When his jaw becomes slack, the first rush of sizzling ecstasy hits your tongue, a taste imprinted deep into your brain, like sweet liquor enabling a spiral into total debauchery. You know, somewhere in what's left of your rational mind, that ingesting his fluids will only make you more restless- But this is exactly what you wanted.

You want that hit. The high. The relief. Is it really a spiral when it feels so good?

The incubus refuses to indulge your greedy wish, pulling you off his length so he can make a mess of your already less than composed visage. You hardly have the mind to care about the flashes of warmth as he paints you all pretty, simply smiling contentedly. Santi finds it endearing enough to coo.

" There, my lovely little Minx, aren't things better already? " His claws swipe gently over your cheeks and chin, entering your mouth with another offer of poisonous sweetness you can't decline. He lets you clean him at your own sluggish pace, spare hand pumping a slick but by no means spent cock to the sight.

The rest of it is rubbed across your lips like some perverse gloss.

" I love you so much. " He swoons. " Say it back to me. "

You barely heard his request, too busy hypnotized by his eyes. Even damaged, they're still the eyes of the most captivating creature to ever exist, for your cum-drunk brain.

" I... Mm... " You swallow, every inch of your throat feels sticky. There's something dripping down your neck.

He leans down to mouth the words for guidance, but all you do is try to reach his lips for another kiss, causing the incubus to laugh and shake his head.

" Come one, darling. Three words, I want to hear them from my one and only. "

Although his tone is so sickly sweet it borders on sardonic, you're able to focus enough to at least heed the request.

" ... I love you. "

" I love you, Santi. " He corrects quietly, yet sternly.

" I- " The lustful fog only ever allows you seconds to think clearly. " I love you, Santi? " "

He makes a face that reads something among the lines of 'good enough', grinning in an all too familiar way.

" Then hold on. "

It's a while before you realize he's not telling you to wait. Santi has curved his head just enough that you have access to his horns, and though you give him a slightly puzzled look, all he does is chuff impatiently. Your panties still hang off his horn, you imagine he'd like to keep them on for as long as he can get away with it.

As soon as you have decent purchase on those thick handles, large hands swipe you up by the ass, making you clap onto his thighs. Santi bounces you a bit more until he can stand a little straighter, with you effectively anchored onto him by the horns. Instinct has you quickly crossing your legs around his midsection. He's holding you up as if you weigh less than feathers.

The demon rumbles from the depths of his chest, a feral and drooling Cheshire beam.

" First order of business, my love, is fixing the gift I so kindly offered. "

He uses one hand to smooth over the residual mark and tuts, the distaste written all over his face. Said hand helps him adjust and, in what felt like a blink, he's hilted inside you.

Both of you quiver and call out in tandem.

Your own orgasm is triggered immediately, the cry of an addict reaching delirious heights, your vision darkens for the briefest second as you can only groan senselessly and milk Santi with a grip that might have made him burst if he hadn't only moments ago. Instead, he merely huffs and rasps curses in a tongue you don't grasp.

He drags you off his length deliciously, every ridge bumping its way out, then shoves you back down with intentional force, cockhead kissing spots that have you nearly dizzy. Each disorienting thrust has you struggling to get enough air in your lungs, toes curling hard enough to tease a cramp while your arms fight to keep holding on and your legs don't know where to shift- Not that Santi allows you to squirm much.

" Lords- " He has to loll his tongue out for a second, teeth glistening and chest heaving. " I could die buried in you. Did you miss this, Minx? "

As if you had the wits to answer him right now, grinding your teeth from overstimulation. He laughs when your body freezes every now and then, unable to accompany so much mounted pleasure.

" Save your voice, and save your tears, because when I fuck you full of cum, you're going to feel every inch of that mark blaze to life again. "

And he's right, the sparks are already burning you...

After tonight, there's no going back.

#Santi oc #pinnie's art #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #yandere demon #monster boyfriend #terato tag #monster x reader #monster x you #not sfw #minors dni #demon fucking

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loveinhawkins · 2 years ago

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“I used to wonder about this place,” Robin tells Eddie as they lounge on the couch, looking up at Steve’s pristine ceiling, not a cobweb in sight.

“Huh?”

Robin smirks knowingly. “Come on, you must have wondered, too.” She puts on a hushed voice of mock reverence. “The King of Hawkins High roaming these hallowed halls… if walls could speak…”

Eddie snorts. “Those are some pretty words, Buckley,” he says, and he knows that even this tease is pretty much a confession that he’d once thought similar things.

“I used to imagine his parties,” Robin continues, “and think that he’d no doubt break some priceless heirloom, like…” She nods at a horrendously ugly vase. “And then he’d have to hurry and clean it all up before mom and dad noticed.” She looks at Eddie head-on, all joking dropped, and Eddie suddenly suspects that she has planned this conversation. “I was wrong.”

She’s lowered her voice, and the two of them simultaneously glance over to make sure Steve can’t hear; he’s completely unaware, trying to shove a still chattering Dustin off the kitchen countertop.

“What part?” Eddie asks quietly.

Robin sighs heavily. “He never needed to hurry, Eddie,” she says slowly, deliberately, like she’s saying something else. Eddie listens close until he can hear it: No-one was ever coming to see the mess. They’re never fucking here.

He looks over at Steve again, smiling brightly in the spotless kitchen; and, unbidden, he thinks of Chrissy, of how loneliness is not always obvious.

Robin knocks her foot gently against Eddie’s. He had spent arguably the worst and best week of his life being surprised by Steve Harrington, but this feels different, a quieter yet more monumental change: like Robin has trusted him, shared a missing puzzle piece from a darkened corner.

“What should we do?” he whispers.

Robin smiles, bittersweet. “Make a mess?” she says, shrugs. “Not broken vases or anything. It’s… it’s proof, I think.”

“Of what?” Eddie says. Steve’s laughter travels across—“I swear to God, Henderson, get your nasty shoes off there,”—and Eddie watches as Steve taps at Dustin’s muddy footprints left on the counter, and not even a show of exasperation can hide his fondness.

Eddie can’t help but love him.

“That we’re here,” Robin answers softly. “That we’re staying.”

#steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #eddie x steve #eddie and robin #steve and robin

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mins-fins · 4 months ago

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remember summer days !

"i love summer because i love you.."

synopsis: forever going beaches, aggressive seagulls, brain freezing ice cream, many many shots, summer vacation is simply two months where you can be as reckless as possible without scathing schoolwork and the crushing feeling of student loans on your back, your two months to be an idiot without the worry of missing your morning classes due to hangovers, but there's something different about this summer. why didn't anyone tell mark that he could've possibly fallen in love with his best friend over the course of two months? who knew that you were really the one the whole time?

pairing: mark lee x male!reader

genre: university au, summer romance, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, light angst, humor(?), mutual pining, kinda sort of kinda suggestive, mainly mark pov

warnings: swearing, explicit language, sexual jokes, implications of sex but no smut, mentions of sexual harassment, smoking & alcohol consumption, complicated feelings, pathetic best friends are in love with each other but are dumb and don't realize until 15 years too late

word count: 15.9k

notes: the way i convinced myself i was never going to finish this and itd just become send in the clowns pt.2 😭 after the trials and tribulations of life, and hospital visit after hospital visit, i have finally posted something above 10k words!! applause!! (crickets) this has been in the drafts for FOUR MONTHS.. since march 10th ive been pressuring myself to finish, i literally finished endless nameless before this.. what kind of work ethic is that? also this was supposed to be sooooo much sadder and the og ending was supposed to bring tears BUT i am a saint and decided to not put you guys through torture bc most of my mark works are angsty anyway and because user junjiie would block me if i ever put him through another mark angst fest again 😁 speaking of user junjiie, thank you for listening to everything that i spout in your inbox.. your the best 🫶 and if youve ever wanted to kiss mark, your in the right place 👍

THE RUSHING OF THE OCEAN BEFORE him is all that's present in marks ears. the sand in his shoes don't register in his mind, nor do the seagulls eating bread right in front of him, just the ocean. the ocean is beautiful, a serene endless reservoir, one mark wishes he could just jump into and never leave. he can't focus on anything else around him, not the upcoming sunset, not the squawking birds, not the people muttering about the eventide, not even how beautiful his surroundings are, the ocean is his main center of attention, and mark spends so much time admiring it. the ocean is beautiful, it's monumental, mark can't exactly put it into more words, he might run out almost immediately. in moments like these, it doesn't matter the words he uses, it's just being immersed in the scenery that matters.

"hello? earth to lee minhyung!"

mark flinches, but his shoulders quickly relax when he sees who the yeller was. it's just you. annoying, absentminded, angel faced you, a small smile makes itself present on your features as you finally catch the formerly spaced out male's attention.

"thank god, for a moment there i thought you were gone".

mark doesn't find himself snickering at your words, he instead gives you that 'really?' stare, it's not that your joke wasn't funny, he just doesn't have the energy to laugh. "why are you even yelling? were on a public beach, idiot".

mark mutters the last word, but he knows you heard it anyway because you put your arm around him and pinch him in his shoulder as payback. he winces at the pain, you and your unusually strong fingers, you just smile in victory.

oh you, always so eager for revenge.

"you were staring at the ocean like it was your one true love, what? were you imagining hyuck or something?"

mark doesn't even know when the two of you began walking, but he isn't exactly focused on that, or your teasing words which hint at something that is completely false, he's more focused on how breathtaking you are.

mark would never say it's..anything not platonic. sometimes, though, he can't help but focus on just how amazing your features compliment you. you always look beautiful like this, in lightings like this is what he means.

mark isn't an idiot, he can acknowledge how attractive you are, even if you always tease him whenever he compliments you.

"i was just admiring it, why does there always have to be something more with you?" his quick rebuttal doesn't make it past you so easily, but you decide to go easy on mark, you can't just tease him the whole time, or you'll just start going back and forth.

"because, you're always so extra, there's no reason you should be staring at the ocean like you want to kiss it or something".

mark rolls his eyes, you're so stupid, you always have something to say, your mind must be so full of things, considering you constantly have a reply for mark locked and loaded, ready to go. "you can't even try to go easy on me?"

"nope, you know me, annoying you is the best part of my day!"

mark does know, it's like you've made it your life mission to never let him live anything down the moment you two met at a random park in vancouver when you were just little kids trying to figure out how to navigate the world. whether it was you following mark home, teasing him after beating him at basketball, or you were making fun of the way he styled his hair that day, you've never allowed mark lee to exist peacefully since you two decided to cross paths.

even as adults, adults who are studying to get bachelor's degrees, who pay their own bills, who can now legally drink, and who don't need parental consent to do anything anymore, you'll still never let mark live anything down.

it's fun to annoy you! you always tell mark, a tormenting on your face as giggles escaped your lips.

"i wish i didn't know you".

you manage a gasp of fake offense, placing a hand on your chest in pure shock. mark seems pleased, he shakes out of your hold and begins walking forward, leaving you and your dramatics behind.

you snicker, raising an eyebrow. you quickly catch up to him, hands shoved into your pockets as you give your best friend that familiar taunting smile, the one you know that he can't stand. "you're so mean to me, minhyung".

mark just scoffs, trying his best to ignore you. you don't take that, though, instead walking right up to him and lacing your fingers together. "don't ignore me".

please, mark wishes he could.

"you're annoying".

that familiar taunting smile comes to your lips, a soar of victory in your chest. "i know" you reply simply, squeezing his hand. "now do you wanna watch the sunset or what?"

it's only now that the realization dawns on mark, the sunset, how could he even forget?

to be fair, it's hard to focus on the sunset when your gorgeous best friend is holding your hand staring at your lips—

"you dummy" you say almost immediately. "you were the one who kept pestering me about the sunset and you forgot?"

"i was focused on other things.."

"let me guess" you pretend to think, fingers still intertwined with marks as you pull him and the two of you begin walking back towards the beach you'd walked away from. "you were too focused on my alluring beauty?"

mark shoves you with his shoulder. "you wish".

"i don't have to wish, you think i'm the prettiest boy in the world".

you do have a knack for the dramatics. mark doesn't know how many more eye rolls he can do before you realize he isn't exactly lying about finding you attractive, he just would never admit it to your face, one: because he doesn't want to stroke your ego, and two: he truly doesn't have the balls to.

"please, get over yourself".

"it's not my fault you want to kiss me so bad, you have the perfect opportunity to anywa—"

mark immediately shoves your face away when you pucker your lips and try to lean closer. "ew no, you probably taste like cigarettes".

mark finally snakes out of your hold, walking ahead of you and back towards the beach. his face is red, only heating up more as he hears your tormenting giggles.

how do you even have an affect like this on him? he'll never know, but he'll continue standing his ground.

mark lee will never admit to your face that he's attracted to you, or that he wants to kiss you, or that you're probably the prettiest boy he's ever met.

mark lee doesn't have the confidence to admit any of that to your face.

MARK ALWAYS MAKES THE MISTAKE OF UNDERESTIMATING your alcohol tolerance. back to back drinks seem to be your thing, and he has no idea how you can even do that without even feeling like you're going to throw up. mark feels nauseous just watching the whole thing go down, but he's gotten used to the unpredictability of your character, so the idea of you being this "crazy drinker" isn't exactly a far fetched kind of claim, you don't even get offended when people say it anymore. you seem to enjoy fully embracing the insults you get from people, it's kind of admirable.. in a sense? mark doesn't know how to explain it, because it sounds stupid when put into words.

"sir can i have one mor—"

"oh no! no no no! no more drinks for you" mark immediately cuts you off, putting his arm around your shoulder to support you. he smiles politely at the man behind the counter, and he helps you stand up, ignoring your disagreeing whines. "my apologies, we'll be heading out now".

"mark!" you whine, stretching the letters of his name whilst letting your body fall against his. "you can't do this to me, i wasn't done yet" your drunken complaints fall deaf on mark's ears, and he pulls you back up once again, your arm coming up to wrap around his waist. he's basically supporting your whole body, as you can barely even walk yourself.

"it's two in the morning, y/n" mark states, but you don't really care, you just pout. "you can't afford to drink anymore, you're going to die if you keep drinking like this".

"if i die at least i'll die beautiful".

your words slur together in an idiotic way, and you laugh like you're the most hilarious person in the world. you lean against mark, letting him carry you through the streets of jeju, closing your eyes. "yeah well, if you think i'm letting you intoxicate yourself to the point of blacking out, you're out of your mind".

"because you are so in love with me?"

"no, because you're my best friend".

and maybe i am just a little in love with you, but that isn't important right now.

"sure, keep telling yourself that mark lee".

mark hates when you get drunk like this, because it's like the moment the alcohol sinks into your system, you become a mind reader. you can always seem to tell what's going on with mark when your drunk out of your mind, like you just reach into his brain and pull out his biggest secrets.

he never knows how you do it, or how you just magically forget everything you say when your sober (he's actually grateful you do, because the kind of stuff you say when your drunk should stay like that, drunk remarks).

"i can walk on my own, you know.." you mutter, clearly very out of it. the words only make mark's arm tighten around you, he cannot afford to let you go, because you're going to collapse onto the street and never be able to pick yourself up. he doesn't care about your complaints, your whining, or how you're trying to separate yourself from him, he only has one goal, to make sure you get back to the house, and get to bed. "you don't need to carry me".

"your legs are practically useless right now, y/n, don't argue with me" mark somehow manages to hold you up with one arm as he rummages through his pocket, looking for the keys to the house. you clearly want to argue with him, but you can't, instead slumping to the side and pouting.

finally, mark finds the keys to the house and unlocks the door, hoisting you up and helping you step in. "you're like my prince charming, you know that markie?"

you sound like your going insane, you always get like this when your drunk. mark thinks he doesn't mind that much, your extra hilarious when drunk, even with how annoying you are when your wasted (not like you aren't also annoying when sober).

"that's nice, y/n" you whine once again when mark lets go of you, but you let yourself fall back onto the couch, curling onto it and wrapping your arms around your own waist, suddenly chilly.

"are you cold?"

there's a certain tone of disbelief in mark's voice, and you guess he has a point. it's mid-july, the two of you are on an island, and all temperatures are high right now, how could you even be cold?

"just kinda chilly.."

"in the middle of july?" mark questions, focused on his mission of searching for cups in the kitchen cupboards. he needs to help you sober up, or maybe he'll just let you go to sleep like this (actually he can't, you'd complain all morning if you woke up with such a hangover).

"i can't control the random chills i get, mark" you seem to enjoy whining about stupid things. you tighten your own hold around your waist, as if trying to heat up your own body yourself. "it's like elsa's living here or something".

"okay you big baby" mark responds, walking up to you and handing a glass of water. you stare at the cup for a good minute or so before finally taking it, though you can't exactly stomach water at the moment, you appreciate how much mark is doing for you. "get better and go to sleep".

you still feel just a little nauseous, and you realize back to back drinks for hours probably wasn't the best idea. you cover your face with your hands, yet another complaining whine escaping your lips. "it's not as easy as it sounds, minhyung".

"you could at least drink the water, appreciate my efforts".

"i do appreciate your efforts, i just feel like i'm about to throw up".

"that's what you get for doing all of that drinking".

you have no more energy to argue with your best friend, instead turning over and making yourself comfortable on the couch, your head placed on his lap. "yeah yeah, whatever smartass, now let me sleep.."

mark chuckles. "you don't want to go to your room?"

"no, your my pillow now, you legally have to stay here".

mark raises an eyebrow, amused by your sudden change of heart. "legally?"

"yes legally, now be quiet and let me sleep".

mark shuts his mouth, not only because he doesn't want to argue with you, but because you did really need this sleep.

he doesn't mind this, he decides.

"WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING?" MARK LOOKS UP UPON hearing your inquiry, his eyes finally moving away from his computer and focusing on you. your hair is messy, he assumes from the roughness you used when drying it, and your clothes look comfy. it's that pajama set yuta got you for your birthday that you swore you hated and would never wear ever. he laughs in his head at the fact, but then he focuses back on you, realizing he indeed does have a question to answer. "grey's anatomy" he answers just as unnaturally as he thought he would, he internally cringes at the fact. you raise an eyebrow, clearly questioning the show choice, but you make your way over to him anyway, the closer you get, the better mark can see you, your features practically glow in the dimly lit room.

"grey's anatomy? i didn't even know you liked that show.." you make space for yourself beside mark and prop yourself up on your elbows, eyes narrowing at his laptop screen. mark just lets you, it's been a long day, despite it being summer, mark still has so much to do, he never truly gets breaks.

"i don't really like it, it's kinda just a guilty pleasure" he replies, gesturing towards his computer. "cristina's the best character.."

"your just saying that because she's the only characters name you remember".

mark snorts, lightly nudging you. "are you really going to stay here with me?"

you give him a dumbfounded look, as if that was possibly the dumbest question he could've asked ever. "why would i not? would you prefer for me to ignore you while we're on vacation together? i wanna spend time with my best friend.."

mark hums, clasping his hands together. your words have an unchecked effect on him, a small red hue spreading across his cheeks. the words are so simple, so they shouldn't be having him react like this, he feels like he's going insane.

why do you make him feel like this?

mark never gets it with you.

you're just his best friend, you two have been together since you were six, it's crazy how even through all the crazy stuff that's happened in your lives, the two of you have somehow managed to survive, even with all odds stacked against you.

mark has to admit, you two aren't the most.. normal of a pair? there are times the two of you didn't talk for months, times where you couldn't even stand each other, but then are also times like this, times where you two are just regular best friends who do regular best friend things.

best friends hold hands.

best friends match jewelry.

best friends occasionally share a bed and wrap themselves in each other's arm whilst sleeping.

and best friends look at each other with the same kind of love admiration mark looks at you with.

when have you ever been anything more than friends? there has never been a romantic element there as far as mark knows. yeah you always make stupid jokes about the two of you being a couple, but you've never said anything which could imply that, and even if you are in love with him, you've never tried to act on those desires, not physically at least.

mark's never seen the way the two of you act to be weird, he could never get why other people always looked at you weird, like they knew something the two of you didn't.

and it's even weirder because your guys' other friends do the same thing, the shifty glances, the unnecessary eyebrow raising, and the stupid giggles.

mark remembers this one time jungwoo said this thing, and it's stuck with him ever since.

"what's with you and y/n?"

the question came out of nowhere, mark had been focused on some writing assignment he'd left to the last minute, sitting at the kitchen counter as he tried to figure out what huge words he could use to make himself sound sophisticated. "what do you mean?"

"you and y/n, you guys are weird, i can't tell if you're trying to look your dating or are actually a couple".

the statement came off as shocking to mark, why would he even begin to think that? when have you two ever come off as a couple? he has no idea..

"you're ridiculous, y/n and i aren't trying to look like we're dating".

mark said those words with confidence, but he doesn't even know if he's genuinely sure about that.

"yeah, sure" jungwoo scoffed, he has no faith in mark at all. "maybe you think you aren't, but he's surely trying to, he's literally so in love with you it's insane".

mark paused, thinking about it. maybe he just doesn't pay much attention to it, or maybe jungwoo was just making stuff up, he does really enjoy lying. "you might be crazy".

"i'm not! excuse my language, mark, but it is so obvious that y/n likes you, he wants to fuck you so bad it's disgusting!"

marks eyebrows furrowed, and he gave jungwoo that familiar 'are you serious?' look.

"y/n wants to fuck me?"

"oh he definitely does! he isn't even trying to hide it".

mark thinks all of your guys' friends must be crazy, experiencing a shared hysteria or something. you two don't act weird, your just how you always are.

"so?"

mark remembers this other thing as well, it was about a month before school ended, and he was sat on johnny's living room floor, flipping through the boring tv channels, trying to find anything interesting to watch. "so what?"

"what are you doing this summer?" the older asked, there was a clear annoyance in his voice, mark guesses it's because he had to ask the question like seven times. "any good plans?"

mark's fingers continued to click the remote, he doesn't remember what channel he was looking for, but he remembers shrugging in response to johnny's question. "not sure yet, y/n said he wanted the two of us to go somewhere together, but he hasn't really gotten back to me on that".

at the mere mention of you, a small laugh sounded from johnny, and mark noticed it enough that he paused his channel flipping. "y/n?"

"yes y/n, as in my best friend y/n, whose also your friend?"

"jesus that guys like, obsessed with you".

the words caused for mark to respond with his signature weird glance, he looked at johnny as if the older had just placed a curse on his entire family. "where is this coming from?"

"i just have eyes, mark, are you two really best friends? or have you just not discovered how you actually feel for each other?"

that was so strange.

mark immediately wanted to deny all of it, his eyes moved away from johnny and back to the tv, but he wasn't really focused on the tv, trying to find a response to the words that struck him like a punch to the gut. "i have no idea what your talking about".

"well i'm just saying what everyone else is saying".

and yeah, maybe mark's an idiot for not taking any of those words into account, but he doesn't really have to! if you were so in love with him like everyone assumed, you'd tell him, right? you two always tell each other what's going on in your lives, and that's to like, a concerning rate.

if you were in love with mark, you'd tell him, because what use is there in keeping such a big secret?

there's a lot of them, actually, mark, but you know y/n would never do that to you, he'd never.

MARK IS SLEEPLESS, LIKE— VERY. for the past few hours, all he's done is toss and turn in the same direction for who knows how long. his blanket is on the floor, but he doesn't exactly remember putting it there. he probably threw it off his bed during one of his many tossing fits a good couple hours ago. he groans, just accepting that he's not getting any sleep tonight. after hours of refusing to leave his bed, mark stretches his limbs, finally sitting up and swinging out of his bed since he got into it like four hours ago. no one whose on vacation sleeps early, but mark had assumed the exhaustion in his body would aid in helping him doze off, but his body is a weird one, so he hurriedly makes his way out of his room, suddenly craving water.

mark regrets choosing the room with the huge window right in front of the beach, yeah it's nice and everything but in the middle of the night, waking up the sound of the rushing ocean is just the slightest bit anxiety inducing, especially when he's in the middle of some horrible nightmare.

mark's feet take him directly where he wants to go, the kitchen, he needs a glass of water, maybe two, maybe three, heck— maybe seven. he doesn't think much about not seeing you, he just assumes you had better luck than him in the sleep department.

he only gets distracted on his walk when he hears a small sound, the sound of something hitting against the wall. he pauses in his steps, listening in to see if what he was hearing was actually real. it's silent for a few seconds, but then mark hears it again, the sound of something slamming against the wall.

it's coming from your room.

mark furrows his eyebrows, puzzled. now totally unfocused on his current goal, mark turns around and heads in the direction of your room, anxieties amping up as his mind begins thinking of horrible things.

god please don't be hurt please don't be hurt please please please please—

when mark peaks his head through your door, he's met with a strange sight. a clearly asleep you, muttering nonsense to yourself as you continuously weak into your dresser, bumping against it, then causing for it to bump against the wall. oh, mark gets it, your sleepwalking.

he sighs in relief, at least you aren't injured or something. he steps into the room, making his way towards you, he makes sure that he doesn't make too much noise walking, he doesn't want you to have some visceral reaction.

he gently taps your shoulder. "y/n".

no answer, you just walk into your dresser again.

"y/n" mark calls out again, but you don't answer him, just continue muttering to yourself as you walk into your dresser again, bumping roughly against it, causing for mark to wince, as if he was the one to collide with the dresser. he places both hands on your shoulder, turning you around to face him.

"y/n".

that seems to do the trick, because you startle out of your state, a gasp accompanying your actions. your startled state startles mark as well, whose hands quickly remove themselves from your shoulders. "okay okay, calm down, it's just me" his voice does calm you down, nothing else can be heard in the room besides the breathing of you two and the faint running of the ocean outside.

"oh, holy shit, what did i— what was that?"

mark has been through this with you many times before, he knows how to deal with stuff like this, he's gotten very in tune with your habits. "you were sleepwalking, y/n" he replies, and a look of disappointment settles on your face.

"again? ugh i thought i got rid of that stupid habit" you cover your face with your hands, stressed. "i didn't do anything crazy right? like.. turn on the oven? start the car? unlock the door?"

"no no, none of that" mark is weirded out. seeing the usually energetic, playful, joking you be so stressed, your voice so low compared to your usual shouting. he worries about you, a lot, so he puts his hand on your shoulder again. "seriously it's fine, you were just walking into your dresser and mumbling some unintelligible shit, that's all".

you don't seem to enjoy the sound of that, seeing as how you freeze at the words, only frowning once again. mark, like always, notices your change in behavior, and he instinctively carts his hand through your hair. he originally doesn't know why he does it, but you don't seem to mind, you settle into the touch even, comforted by it.

"do you?.. maybe we should go on a walk on the beach? just to clear your mind, you know.."

he continues to run his hand through your hair. mark loves your hair, it's pretty, soft, and you never really dye it, so it always looks as good as new. you consider his words, taking in a breath. "no i just— i just need water".

water, that's all you need.

mark can do that, it's not like your asking him to bring the stars to you (but mark would, he would go thousands of miles, travel galaxies to make sure you were happy), you just want water. mark stops his hair caressing, his hand moving down to yours, where he intertwines your fingers. you give a small smile as he does so, but mark doesn't see it, he's much too focused on making sure you get your water.

you stay silent, which is so strange to mark. you talk a lot, you love talking, talking mark's ear off is on the list of things you have to do during your day. "just water? that's it".

you frown when mark lets go of your hand, missing the small act of affection. "yeah" you whisper. "just water".

mark gets you exactly that, water, and the two of you sit in a comfortable silence at the kitchen counter. none of you talking. the sound of the ocean waves crashing against each other meet both your ears, but none of you say anything, just sit there with a now empty cup between you two.

"everything good now?" mark asks, he just needs to make sure, seeing you like this is so unfamiliar, it makes him overly anxious.

"yeah yeah everything is fine".

"you sure?" mark needs extra confirmation, extra reassurance from you that you're okay, he wants for you to talk to him, tell him what's going on with you, because mark is your best friend, and he has to help you with these things. "you can tell me anything, you know".

"mark" you say softly, and mark doesn't know why, but his stomach flips. the way you say his name suddenly makes his cheeks go red, eyes widen, and lips part lightly. you shouldn't be affecting him like this, but you do, because it's you, you always do this to him. "yes i'm sure, if something was going on with me, i'd tell you".

of course, because the two of are best friends, you would never hide something serious from him, you know he can always help you, he will always help you.

"alright, i'm holding you to that".

you hum at his words, picking at your nails. "you better".

"THAT GUY IS CUTE" THE WORDS MAKE MARK'S HEAD shoot up, and the moment he glances at you, that uncomfortable feeling comes to his stomach. you aren't looking at him, making mark assume that you weren't saying the words to him, but to yourself. like you meant to say them in your head but ended up muttering them out loud. mark's eyebrows immediately furrow, trying to figure out what guy you're talking about. when he looks in the direction you're looking, he notices the guy your referring to. he narrows his eyes at his figure, and while he can agree, the guy is what he would consider conventionally attractive, he has no idea why you're calling him cute in the first place. "which guy?"

you deadpan at him, lightly smacking his arm. "the guy right there mark, the one wearing the white stripes shirt".

mark blinks, rubbing the place in his arm where you hit him. he doesn't know why he feels so weird, this has never happened to him before, you talk about cute guys all the time, this shouldn't be shocking to him at all.

but for some reason, the guy is really starting to piss him off, just even staring at him is irritating mark. the guy isn't that hot, he isn't even that attractive, his hair is messy, mark thinks that's gross.

"yeah yeah, he looks okay".

"okay?" you stare at mark like he just personally offended you with that statement, and you get furrowed eyebrows as a response. "he's gorgeous! a ten out of ten guy!"

"i mean— i guess he's kinda hot?" mark says those words in that questioning tone he always uses when you show him guys you might be into, he never gets your taste in men, because they're all either crazy, or they all look they just crawled out of a ditch. call him shallow or whatever, but he can't tell why a guy like you likes guys like that, you deserve someone more.. fitting.

someone like him preferably.

when his mind whispers the thought to him, mark struggles to jump from his chair. now why would he even think that? why couldn't he suppress that thought? why does he think he could be the perfect fit for you? it's not like he likes you or anything, so why did he even conjure up that thought?

"you have a horrible taste in men" you respond, but you don't even try to look at mark (which upsets him much more than he wants to admit), your attention is focused on the quote unquote, cute guy across from you, who seems to catch your eye, because you loudly gasp, hitting mark in the arm again. "did you see that!? he looked at me!"

no mark did not see that, he was much too focused on trying to calm down his flipping stomach. he hates that he feels like this, it's always with you isn't it? you don't pick up on how uncomfortable he is, though, because you're too busy freaking out over a "cute" boy glancing over at you.

"so what? you're overreacting".

mark realizes how harsh his words must've been when he sees your face fall immediately at his irritated tone. you finally look over at him, eyebrows furrowed together, and mark feels like he just committed the worst of crimes. there's an awkward silence that spreads between you two for a moment, but if you were upset, which you clearly looked like you were, you didn't say anything, you just shook your head and let out a snicker. "okay, fuck you, i'm freaking out because a cute guy just looked at me and—"

"that same cute guy whose checking you out?"

"HES WHAT!?"

your screech is enough to make mark almost fall out of his seat, he says those words with distaste, but you don't catch his tone, fortunate for him. you begin slapping his arm like crazy, excited out of your mind over this random guy staring at you. the idea annoys mark much more than it should, because why are you focusing on him so much? he isn't even that good looking, he hates it.

"oh my god! oh my god, mark! can you believe this? i might actually have some potential for an important romantic connection this summer!"

mark raises an eyebrow at the comment. "is that all you cared about when deciding to come on vacation with me?"

you look oddly offended at the inquiry, clearly weirded out by mark's sudden change in attitude. you tilt your head, mind immediately swaying away from the guy you'd been rambling about. "no! hey what's with you?"

oh no.

"what do you mean? i'm fine".

"no, you're using that tone with me".

mark curses you for knowing him so well, he knows exactly what you're talking about, his certain tone of irritation is one you'd grown accustomed to when you were children, as mark would use it all the time when he got especially annoyed by your antics. still, he gives a chuckle of disbelief. "what is that tone?"

you pause for a moment, thinking about your words, but then you straighten in your seat, lightly scoffing. "that tone of irritation you use when your annoyed by me, what? you hate your not the only guy who has my attention?"

mark prepares another snappy response to that, but he can't do that because you lean closer as you say those words, a smug grin playing on your lips as you do so. mark allows for himself to get engrossed in the sight of you close up. he then narrows his eyes, trying his best to act like he's unaffected by your stare. "no, oh my god get over yourself!"

mark is quick to push you away, stubbornly crossing his arms as he hopes you don't notice how pathetic those words sounded. you snicker, clearly feeling victorious as you were able to get a shout out of him. mark would punch you if he wasn't so distracted by your pretty laughter.

"uh huh, sure, you dream of me".

"you're so annoying, if you think the guy's so cute just go talk to him".

mark regrets saying that.

why did i say that? why the fuck did i say that?

he doesn't want you to go talk to him, why would he even bring that up? he sees the expression on your face change, and mark immediately knows he messed up because you seem to be very on board with that idea. you look back over at the guy you'd been staring at prior, a smile coming to your face as you catch him looking back at you, watching the whole thing transpire just makes mark stomach flip uncomfortably.

"fine then, you told me to do it myself".

mark wishes he hadn't.

"good luck" he croaks out, trying his best to steady his voice as you blatantly ignore him to continue staring at the guy you're seemingly so infatuated with.

mark wants to throw up.

MARK TRULY UNDERESTIMATES HOW MUCH CAN happen in a week. life has always surprised him, strange things constantly transpire that he can't exactly explain no matter how much he tries. he also made the mistake of underestimating just how much you were into this "cute guy" (mark learned his name is kunwoo, a name he feels uneasy about), because after he stupidly told you to go over and talk to the guy you had been making eyes at, you two hit it off, a fact that made mark want to claw his own eyes out, to his very own confusion. he can't figure out why he's feeling so.. weird? it's not like he hasn't watched you hit it off with several guys during previous summer outings, or just in general, so why is it different now? it shouldn't be different now, nothing should be different.

but it is different now, for some unknown reason that mark can't think of no matter how much he tries to conjure it up in his mind, he doesn't like the guy you've now found yourself parading around. even with how into him you seem, mark can't help but gives his best tight lipped smile every time you bring him up.

mark won't tell you anything, he doesn't want to upset you, you genuinely seem so happy talking to him, who is he to tell you to not like a guy that he feels weird about? you're an adult, you can make your own decisions, he can't make you do anything you don't want to.

so what if mark has bad vibes about this guy your into? he's not going to tell you that or anything. he knows better than to spoil your fun, you deserve to have fun after your train wreck of a school year.

he doesn't want to be a bad friend.

"y/n? where are we going exactly?"

the minute the clock struck 12 (in the afternoon, mark has to clarify), you told him to get up because you were going to take him out. "out, mark, i told you this thousands of times already".

mark's eyebrows furrow, he has no idea why you would just drag him out of the beach house for no apparent reason. hand intertwined with his, merely muttering something about going out.

"so abruptly?" he inquires, your hand squeezing against his, lurching him closer towards you with a small tug.

"yes, take it as my apology for leaving you in the dust for all these days".

mark pauses at your words, they take him by surprise. it's not that he expected you to not notice he was down, you usually notice something's off before mark himself does, but he assumed you'd be so blinded by love that how he feels would be the furthest thing from your mind.

but who is mark kidding? you know him like the back of his hand. if he was upset, even if you were miles away, you'd be able to sense it. no matter how many men you attempt to court and date, none of them could really get you to forget about him.

your hand against his is soft, your tugs are nothing short of playful, and your smile is hidden, but it's there. "won't kunwoo be pissed?"

you narrow your eyes, face twisting into a puzzled expression. the look you give mark makes his stomach drop, but you don't pick up on that, because your focused on the mention of your newest boy toy. "why would he be?"

mark pauses, throat going dry as he feels your thumb grace his palm. "i don't know, he doesn't really seem to like me.."

your eyebrows furrow, then you giggle. "are you kidding? everyone likes you".

the words make mark pause, and he stares at you as if you healed all of his injuries with just your voice. maybe you couldn't see what he saw, but it was such a genuine response that he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "i mean i guess you do have a point about that.."

mark looks down at the cemented ground, and you snort, nudging him with your shoulder.

"don't think about stuff like that, i have a date tonight anyway".

a date. mark's jaw almost clenches. that's terrific! he couldn't be anymore happier for you! his eye isn't twitching because he's pissed! it's not!

"oh" he croaks, suddenly feeling the need to squeeze your hand. if you suddenly notice his heightened emotions, you don't say anything. "a date, that's nice".

"mhm" you merely hum, lips pressed together as you turn around and again begin walking with mark by your side, hand in hand.

"where are you going?"

you scoff, playfully rolling your eyes. "enough about the date mark, it's just us now, let's focus on that okay?"

see? this is why mark lee doesn't get you.

you can't say things like that then just expect him to be fine. you can't stare at him like he's your entire world and not except for him to think you harbor something romantic for him. you can't just do all of that and just expect for mark to be okay.

because he isn't, and it's all because of your soggy looks, your pretty voice, your pretty smile. you make mark feel things he shouldn't feel for someone whose just his 'best friend'.

he looks down at your intertwined fingers, listening to your silent humming as you swing your laced hands back and forth. "alright, i can get behind that".

you snap out of your little zoning out session, your lips turning up at the reply. "good, now make me some guesses".

"what?"

"where do you think i'm taking you?"

mark again pauses, a soft breeze rushing past you two as the crashing ocean waves sound in your ears. "to some forest to murder me?"

you scoff, you'd give another roll of the eyes if not worried for seeming like a broken record. "no, stupid, if i wanted to murder you i would've done it ages ago".

mark responds with an incredulous gasp, tone full of feigned offense. "you would murder me? your best friend in the whole entire world with no pushback?"

"i don't know, guanheng seems adamant on stealing that spot.."

mark again gasps, but this time there's a little more genuine emotion there, floored at the idea of you replacing him. "hendery? really?"

"don't say that! he's cooler than you!"

a frown tugs at mark's lips, and he nudges you much harder than he intends to. you grunt in just the slightest, childishly sticking out your tongue. "you get jealous sooooo easily".

"shut up".

and of course, you don't.

MARK CAN BARELY FALL ASLEEP THAT NIGHT KNOWING your going on a date. the look in your eye really communicated to him that you weren't about to change your mind, when you're determined, you're determined, and nothing will ever deter you. he could barely control the bile threatening to force it's way up his throat as he wished you good luck, but he found it much easier to contain his feeling of irritation when he saw your smile, your smile is so pretty, mark wanted to become kunwoo in that moment, because the idea of him being the one who got to see it for the rest of the night was just ridiculous. oh right. he had no idea how long you were going to be gone for, what if you come back and he's already asleep? what if you stayed over at his place? what if you—

never mind, he doesn't want to think about that.

when you say bye for the night, you unexpectedly step forward and wrap your arms around mark. it's not like hugs between you two are rare or anything, it was just a tad bit surprising how sudden the embrace was, but it was still special, mark almost wanted to fall asleep in your arms.

"how long are you gonna be gone for?" he asked after you pulled away, brushing your hair out of your face as you thought about it for a moment.

you shrugged, lips pressed into a thin line. "i'm not sure, but you can go to sleep without me around, can't you?"

mark's face went red at the question, he looked guilty as a charged. "yes i can, i was just wondering".

you hummed, grabbing the keys from the kitchen counter, not saying another word to him as you began whistling a tune he couldn't exactly recognize. "be safe".

you blinked at him, eyebrows furrowing. "i will, mark".

"swear?"

"i swear".

mark smiled at you, taking a needed breath of relief. "okay, i love you".

those words came out of nowhere, mark still has no idea why he decided to say them, why he decided that would be the correct thing to say at the moment, but you didn't question it, simply snickered. "i love you too".

mark will forever keep that response in his dearest heart.

he tossed and turned for a while, the large window behind his bed greeting him to the harrowing sounds of the ocean. he doesn't remember how long it took for him to slip off into his slumber, but all he remembers is that he was still thinking of your smile when sleep took him away.

he must've been having an insanely good dream, because he didn't even hear the resounding whispers.

"mark".

nothing.

"mark".

mark grunts, but doesn't open his eyes. his lips part slightly as he feels a small tap land on his shoulder, he still doesn't answer though.

"melk".

he looks so into dreamland, you feel bad for trying to lift him from consciousness. he stirs, settling into the feeling of your nail dragging over his arm.

"markle" you drawl. "markie, mark".

cracking one eye open, mark finally looks at you without turning his head. "is the house on fire?" his words are sloppy, syllables all shuffled around.

"not yet, but i can keep trying if you want".

mark's mouth twitches, suppressing a smile, and you let out a sigh. "what time is it?"

"just past one".

"hm" mark rolls over with his eyes barely open, bumping into your sitting figure. he again opens his eyes, scanning you up and down. you're still in the outfit you left in, your thin sweater simply removed, eyes a noticeably red color that has his brows furrowing. "how was the date?"

you chuckle, and it's bitter enough to have mark's eyes now fully open, his body barely rising from his laying position. "fucking terrible".

mark blinks, rubbing his eyes as the exhaustion now doesn't seem to matter. "woah, what's that supposed to mean?"

you roll your eyes, somehow successfully hiding your sniffles along the way. "the guys i'm into always turn out to be such.. bastards".

mark is going to kill kunwoo.

"what did he do?"

"nothing, that's the problem" you reply, but then you laugh again. what exactly do you laugh at? your circumstances? your situation? the fact that you hate everything?

mark pauses, letting his exhaustion fester elsewhere as he sits up. "y/n.."

"i don't know, i guess i shouldn't have expected much from some cute guy i met while on vacation" you humor yourself with those words, snickering at the look you receive from mark. "don't look at me like that, i'm okay".

"your eyes are red" mark snaps his head towards you, almost pointing at your face with his finger.

a frown tugs at your lips. of course he noticed that, you were hoping he wouldn't bring it up. "it's fine, i'm alright".

you give your best smile, and though it would usually make mark smile, his face instead drops at the display. "don't say that, please give me a real smile".

the reply gets a small laugh out of you, which also gets a genuine smile out of you. a few giggles slip from your lips at the words, which, in turn, make mark's lips turn up. "okay okay, you got me".

oh mark loves seeing you smile.

mark hums, reaching his hand over to tuck your hair behind your ear. "you have a pretty smile".

you pause, lips threatening to turn up again at the words. it's not like mark doesn't say this all the time, he always compliments your smile, it just feels.. different now. you snort. "says you".

"let me compliment you".

"you do that all the time already".

the two of you slip into silence, mark's fingers still busying themselves in your hair. you stare, and he stares back. his eyes glance everywhere, you've always been pretty up close, your features are striking, mark could stare at your face for hours, ticking off each of your little facial features in pure admiration.

the tension in the air could be cut with a knife, but you two stay silent, as if in a competition to see who'll break and speak first.

then, in an uncharacteristic move, you speak up.

"what do you want to do mark?"

"hm?" he glances down at your lips before his eyes quickly snap back up to stare into yours. he guesses that you're intently watching the movement of his eyes, something that mark probably would've noticed himself if it was you doing it.

"you want to do something".

mark sucks his teeth. "i want to kiss you".

the words fall from his lips much too quickly, and mark almost feels like a robot saying them, but he couldn't contain his honesty anymore. you raise an eyebrow, cheeks dusted red. "do you?"

your smiling again, and mark can't decipher what might be going through your head. he nods, suddenly rendered speechless. "..yeah, so much" his voice almost trails off into a whine, god how pathetic is that?

you hum, shoulders slumping. "what's stopping you?"

mark's mouth feels bitter, and his tooth sinks into his bottom lip. "kunwoo".

you snort, rolling your eyes as you scoot closer to mark, your hand graces his arm, and mark is quick to relax into the touch. "you shouldn't care about that".

your whisper festers into the air, and mark simply watches the movement of your lips.

then mark leans in, fulfilling his newfound itch of the night. he feels you smile against his lips, his hand moving up into your hair. he lets out a small sigh of relief, a sigh that makes you chuckle.

maybe mark had originally wanted to start slow, but then a switch seemed to have flipped. his fingers tangled in your hair, he can't get over how your lips feel. they're soft, plush, his frenzied presses driven by his pure eagerness, want, desire.

how did it take him this long? how couldn't he realize this is what he wanted the entire time?

you two break apart to breath, but it's only a few seconds before mark leans forward again to chase after yet another taste. his aggressiveness makes you go down, your back softly hitting his mattress as he crawls on top of you, a small giggle leaving your lips at his enthusiasm.

you scale your hand up his arm and under his shirt, drawing shapes into his shoulder as the tiniest hint of a whimper leaves your lips. his hands were still messing with your hair, maybe that's one of his favorite hobbies.

you chuckle again, bringing your hand up to hold his jaw, and you keep your hand there when you finally pull him off you. "oh, how long have you wanted to do that?"

mark can barely control his bated breaths, cheeks a rosy red and lips kissed the same color. "like forever— fuck i can't.. i can't believe i actually got to do that".

you hum, thumb caressing the underside of his jaw. "ah, you were thinking about it".

mark's words get stuck in his throat, and his blatantly red face must be embarrassing. he stares at you as if your the only person in the world, splayed under him in all your gorgeous glory. yes, he did think about this, it got to a little bit of an unhealthy rate. "i thought about way more than just kissing.."

"woah, slow your roll there, lee, what are you implying with that?"

mark stares down at you, cheeks red, hair messy as you begin humming. it makes no fucking sense. you look pretty doing everything, and he rolls his eyes. he responds to you with yet another kiss, except there's less of that prior aggression and more of gentleness.

mark tugs at your bottom lip, your hands slipping down towards his hips, keeping him in his place. he gives a slight squeak of response, obviously not expecting that.

"you gonna tell me what you were implying?"

"can't i just show you?"

"ooooo" you can't contain your snicker, your best friend is sort of pinning you down on his bed, the crashing ocean waves make a red color spread across your face. "i see, look at you being bold".

mark merely hums, diving down to begin sucking bruises into your neck. "you need to be quiet".

"and what are you gonna do if i don't? hm?"

mark sends you a look, the kind of look you expect to see in situations like this. "i won't tell you, i'll show you".

"you're doing much more telling than showing right now".

mark glares. "brat".

"you love it".

mark eyes the bruises he sucked into your skin, purple blemishes that stand out against your empty neck. "you're so pretty.. so pretty".

you are also about to lose your sanity if he doesn't do anything more, you're quite literally about to snap his neck if he doesn't just fucking do it. "as you say all the time.."

mark clicks his tongue, finger ghosting your collarbone. "it's deserved".

mark is going to make sure you hear everything he had to say tonight, he's going to show his appreciation for you through and through, he'll get his point across through any means.

maybe he'll figure out his feelings in the process, too.

"YOU KNOW, YOU KIND OF REMIND ME OF DONGHYUCK.." THE moment mark utters those words, you snap your head towards him, eyes narrowed and lips parted. he takes your reaction as a bad one, your judging look washing a weird sense of fear onto him. you can be strangely scary at times, and the look mark receives just strikes the weirdest amount of fear in him. "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" you ask, a hint of offense in your tone. you are clueless as to what he could possibly mean by that, and mark realizes those words seem pretty vague in hindsight. he stares at you, your messy hair, the same pajamas he changed you into after you two had finished your.. activity. you look adorable, mark can't help but giggle as he observes you, and you scrunch your nose at his actions.

"you two are kinda the same, like twins".

"twins?"

"yeah, you're both insanely annoying" mark says, walking past you and ignoring the other look you share with him. "and besides, you two are both my best friends, your bound to have some similarities, you guys even share some moles in the same place".

you trail behind mark, lips turning downward. "so you just.. usually make out with your best friends?" you ask, hands naturally trailing down towards his hips.

mark turns around just fast enough to meet your eyes, leaning back against the kitchen counter as your hands stay steady on his hips. he hums, staring at your lips. "no, it's just you".

"oh? am i the exception?"

"mhm" mark sees the way your eyes seemingly light up at the words, a small squeeze to his hips. you get giddy so easily, he has to resist the urge to giggle. "it's only you i have my eyes on".

your cheeks flare up, and you chuckle as you look down. you really like the sound of that. when you look back up, mark is quick to press his lips to yours. you squeak out of surprise, but your quick to melt into his touch.

mark's newfound obsession is kissing you, your lips are always so fucking soft. how much chapstick do you use? or are they just naturally like that? he'll have to kiss you more to find out (that's his new excuse).

"you're so enthusiastic, where was this energy when i flirted with you before?"

"that was different".

"was it?" you lean away when mark goes back in for another kiss, smiling at the way his face drops. he scrunches his nose, tongue poking against his inner cheek. "how different was it?"

mark sucks his teeth, hand coming up to the back of your neck to pull you closer. "see? you are annoying".

"you didn't answer my question~"

"can't i just kiss you as my answer?" he breathes against your lips, unsuccessfully fighting a smile.

you pretend to think about it, tilting your head to sell your bit. "you just want to kiss me more".

"is that so bad?"

you stare down your best friend, but then you sigh, you can't resist him. "no".

and that's all mark needs. he pulls you back down towards him, sighing in contentment as he feels the soft plush of your lips against his. you lose your composure rather quickly, pulling mark as close as he could get, as if you'd die if you weren't touching every single part of him.

small (but intelligible) whimpers spill from your lips, sounds that have mark wanting to giggle and kick his feet in joy. he is doing that to you? oh he feels so proud of himself.

mark lee might just be addicted to kissing you.

"okay okay enough, your kiss amount is up".

"what? hey!"

your hand slips from his, and mark blinks, absolutely dumbfounded. you smile, expression full of cheek as you watch mark's drop. "since when did we have kiss amounts?"

"since about two seconds ago!" you yell as you make your way over to your room, mark for being from where you left him desolate at the kitchen counter. "you lose control too quickly".

"as if you don't like that.."

mark crosses his arms over his chest, following you to your room to give you a piece of his mind. "but i love kissing you dude!"

you give a weird look. "you can't call me dude after we just made out!"

mark scoffs. "what do you want me to call you then? baby?"

you pause, a bright red color spreading across your cheeks. you also like the sound of that. for some reason, it feels so right. you can already hear the word 'baby' fresh on mark's lips, and in reference to you to?

it sounds pretty cute.

"yeah no i think i prefer dude.."

you don't notice how mark's face drops at those words, he knows they're feigned, but the fact that you felt the need to lie just makes his stomach hurt. that's nice y/n, that's fine, i can totally get behind that, my feelings for you aren't complicated at all!

mark hates his thoughts.

but he doesn't disclose any of them, he gives a fake smile and forces out a strained chuckle. "fine, dude, don't get mad with me again though".

you can't even fight your smile anymore, because it comes to full force when you face mark, who is busy staring at the marks he sucked into your neck. maybe those are too obvious, you'd have trouble trying to cover them.

you snap your fingers in front of mark's face. "hey, you alright?"

mark blinks, locking eyes with you. he thinks he's dreaming, did you two really get to this point? mark assumed he'd wallow in his own jealousy forever, never getting the opportunity to really feel these things around you. "yeah, sorry.."

"mhm" you press your lips into a thin line, and mark steps closer to bury his face into your shoulder, an action of affection that is now regular for you two. "no need to apologize, what's going on in your head?"

mark doesn't answer that, simply lets out a deep breath. "don't wanna talk about it".

"that's fine" you whisper, you can wait until he's ready to talk about it.

MARK'S EYES PRACTICALLY BURN BY THE TIME he can finally see again. he almost inhales a gallon of ocean water, he can still taste the salt of it on his tongue. how you managed to convince him to get into the ocean with all of his clothes still on? he has absolutely no idea, but it had no right being so fun as it was. he wipes his face as best he can with his hands, and he hears your titular laugh sounding close by, so loud that not even the rushing ocean water can keep it silent. he shivers, jumping when he feels your wet hand grace his shoulder. "i'm never doing that with you ever again" he scolds, unable to sound serious with the way his lips refuse to turn down. you giggle, quickly grabbing a towel for you two to share, wrapping it around both you and mark as you sit on the other towel you brought to the beach. "i'm sure i could convince you easily enough if i tried" you reply, resting your head onto mark's shoulder.

"that's only because i let you get away with things" mark responds, pressing closer to you, as close as he can get with the lack of space already between the two of you. you let out a sigh of contentment, feeling good in the current place you are.

it's always been comfortable like that with mark.

"keep telling yourself that".

"it's true" mark bites back, and you hum as you again let out a sigh. "you only get a pass because you're my best friend" he drags his finger down your arm, smiling as you relax into the touch.

"aww, is it not because i'm so cute?" your lips turn downward into a pout, and you lean into mark as you feign sadness at his previous words.

"nope" mark pushes you back with only his pointer finger, and you chuckle against his touch once again.

the beach wasn't your original destination, but it's much too difficult to avoid the beach, and by proxy, the ocean. mark didn't really want to swim, because you two weren't planning on going to the beach, but you were somehow able to convince him to get into the water, he has no idea how you even got that to happen, but you did, your striking smile is much too difficult to ignore.

you two spent so much time just messing around, acting like the idiots you were supposed to be when you originally decided to go on vacation together. yeah all the drinking, seagull chasing, and cooking attempts were fun, but just being idiots on beach? this is what going on vacation is about.

you couldn't have stifled so many of your giggles today, and mark, mark just made it so much better. you feel so much around mark, you don't know how you hid such feelings for so long. "you really are something.."

mark blinks, admiring your smile, he's cut off by a sudden rush of wind, which sends a shiver down both your spines. you snicker, grabbing his hand. "let's go back, yeah? it's getting cold now".

mark nods, wrapping his arm around your waist as you wrap your arm around his, the two of you laughing as you trip over your feet to make your way back to the beach house. "tomorrow, we need to check out that ice cream parlor".

mark gives you a look. "the one with the.. what is it? fucking amazing waffle cones?" he inquires, recalling jungwoo's words when he was telling you two about the place awhile ago.

you snort. "that one, yes".

mark simply gives a small smile, you think he looks especially cute with his wet hair. blue was really the move, you love it.

"you gonna pay?"

"woah! why do i have to pay?"

mark nudges you, almost rolling his eyes. "you made me deal with kunwoo for a whole week, that man did not like me".

"that's ridiculous".

the other look you receive from mark is full of the incredulity you except, mark looks at you as if you just punched him in the gut and spat on him as he doubled over. "ridiculous? you should've seen the way he stared at me, you would've thought i robbed his mom or something".

"it's ridiculous how he didn't like you".

mark scoffs, a cold shiver running down his spine as he thinks of his next response. "think it was pretty obvious why.."

it's a simple mutter, but you know what he means by those words. you hum, getting out the keys and unlocking the door, mark feels a sense of déjà vu as he lets you take him in, letting him rest half his body weight onto you.

you suck your teeth as you hear mark yawn. "don't get so sleepy, we still have to dry our hair".

mark hums, looking up at you.

and mark can't exactly grasp why it's so romantic. why the giggles are full of much more love, why the acts of affection mean so much more, why he doesn't want all the lingering touches to stop. he rolls his eyes at your complaints when he cleans the sand out of your hair, and he smiles softly at the sight.

you look mesmerized by everything mark does, your eyes tracking him and every single action he performed like he was the single most important being to ever grace the earth. your eyes held a love you had never once showcased for another human being before. it couldn't just be platonic.

you practically stay glued to his side the whole time, an act that isn't as surprising to mark, it's kind of your whole thing to become super affectionate so randomly. he just likes it more this time, maybe it's the way you fingers grace his waist that make him feel safer.

you giggle when mark changes into those cute pink pajamas you usually never see him wear, but he only gives you a dirty look, one which makes you stop talking in fear of pissing him off.

and that is how you end up here, listening to mark's heartbeat as he runs his fingers through your hair, his eyes closed, but him not yet being asleep. sharing beds have never been unusual to you two, it's just.. different now.

"i can still taste the ocean water, dude".

you chuckle, feeling the rise and fall of mark's chest. you are so comfortable here, a sense of warmth easily envelopes you with mark. nothing could ever compare to how you feel around him. "maybe you shouldn't have done that dive then, dude".

mark narrows his eyes at you, taking in the tone of sarcasm in your words. you lift from your place on mark's chest, leaning your elbow onto the bed, and your head against your hand. you use your free hand to take mark's and intertwine it with yours. you stare at him from your place above him, lips turning up by just staring at his face.

"you are so fucking cute".

mark rolls his eyes, a small smile showing on his face. "are you really saying that? look at you".

"don't try to flatter me".

"dude, have you met yourself?"

"don't call me dude, dude" you argue, eyes shining with feigned rage when you hear a correspondent giggle from mark.

"you said you prefer dude!"

"okay well— i lied! don't call me dude, you call random men on the sidewalk dude, not me".

"what do you want me to call you then?"

god you're frustrating.

"anything but dude".

mark sighs, watching the way your cheeks dust red at just having to disclose this information to mark with pure honesty. he stares at your intertwined fingers, leaning forward and pressing a kiss onto your knuckles. the act is much too simple, but it leaves a lasting impression.

"i hate you".

"okay dude".

you snap a glare in mark's direction, but you also can't hide your budding smile. he's just so hard to be mad at, he shouldn't be allowed to harbor such beauty while simply lying down. "fuck you".

"i'm sure you want to" mark teases, leaning his head against the pillow, his hair falling down prettily behind him.

you choose to not answer that, instead letting go of mark's hand to grab his jaw and pull him in. your first time being the one to initiate, and it's just as messy as mark expected for it to be.

you can taste the remains of mint toothpaste on mark's tongue, and there's a certain frenzy that puts you on, your hand sliding down to the middle of mark's chest, again feeling the beating of his heart. you allow for your hand to journey under his shirt, exploring the warmth of his bare skin.

"slow that hand down dude.."

"if you fucking call me that again—" you grit your teeth, an empty threat dancing on your tongue. mark doesn't try to move your hand, just lets you do your thing.

mark stares up at you, waiting for the eventual threat, but it doesn't come, that's strange for you. he smirks, and you glare as you catch it. "come on y/n, threaten me".

you suck your teeth, instead pulling a mark by shutting him up with a kiss. it's again messy, a clash of the teeth and a mini fight in between all the chaos.

give me your best shot, mark says, tugging your bottom lip to truly sell his words. of course you bite, not hard enough to draw blood, mark finds it funny how you hold back during this moment out of every other one.

your hand again ventures, seemingly having a mind of it's own. you fiddle with the buttons of his pajama shirt, caressing the soft fabric between your fingers. when you pull away for breath, you simply stare, an indecisive look in your eyes.

"can i?" you ask, simply dragging your finger across what's exposed of his neck.

mark presses his lips together, staring at you as if ppl you're the only person in the world. he then gives you a lazy smile, a hand carting through your hair. "you're sacrificing sleep for sex?"

you snicker. "but it's good sex".

"and how are you so sure?"

"just let me prove it to you" you sing, tapping a finger onto his cheek. "and besides, we could always sleep in.." mark closes his eyes, humming as he feels your other hand press onto his chest, it's such a strange feeling, but it's foreign in a nice way.

"what about the ice cream?" mark's question is breathy, but he still finds a way to give you that tormenting smile. how annoying.

"you can't possibly be thinking about ice cream while i'm on top of you in your bed right now" you quickly counter, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.

"i like ice cream, though".

"and me?"

mark opens his eyes, smile lazy and expression soft. "maybe you're just a little better than ice cream".

"a little?"

mark decides not to answer that one. "knock yourself out".

you roll your eyes at how he decided to grant you permission, but you chuckle anyway. "might knock you out after were done.."

"i'm looking forward to it".

you swear your going to wipe that smile off mark's face (that's a lie, you actually really enjoy seeing it).

"THE AMOUNT OF SPRINKLES ON THAT SHOULD BE illegal" the remark makes you choke around the tiny plastic spoon you tried to chuckle into. you purposefully bite down on the sprinkles to piss him off, lips turning up as you catch his eye twitch. it's so easy to rile him up, annoying him really is one of your best qualities. "how do not like sprinkles?" you ask, looking at him incredulously. mark takes a huge bite of the waffle cone in his hand, ignoring your question and instead replying with an interested hum. "these are fucking amazing waffle cones.." he mutters, and you scoff, shoving his shoulder. he gives a satisfied giggle at your irritation, your face dropping immediately when you see how joyful he seems. "what?" he asks, feigning idiocy as you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes. he can't even stifle his laughter anymore, barely containing his chuckles behind his hand.

"i fucking hate you".

mark seems pleased by your annoyance, grimacing as you eat yet another scoop of those sprinkles. "okay you sprinkle enjoyer, they're too sweet anyway".

"but i like sweet things".

"yeah cause you're basically a toddler" your lips turn down at the words, and mark runs a hand through your hair, suddenly very interested in the soft strands. "don't get mad, i'm just saying".

you scoff, looking down at your chocolate ice cream, your sprinkles are running out anyway. "i am mad, and i'm going to go get more sprinkles" you grumble, but your smiling as you walk off to go ask the person at the counter if you can add more sprinkles to your ice cream.

mark again laughs when he remembers the sight of your irritated face, you always look so cute when you're mad. he can practically hear the scowls from you when you realize he's been laughing.

he just can't help it.

"oh, you".

mark glances up, letting go of his spoon and letting out a strained chuckle. the one person he did not want to see. fucking kunwoo of all people.

"hi" mark tries his best to be civil, but all kunwoo does is scoff.

"cut the bullshit, what? do you think you can just influence y/n's actions now?"

mark scoffs, so much for being civil, all he wants to do is get more waffle cones, but of course someone has to ruin his fucking day, and of course it has to be the guy he was wrongly jealous of. "i have no idea what you're talking about".

"y/n isn't texting me back, and i know you have something to do with it".

mark almost rolls his eyes. "i don't influence y/n's decisions, if he isn't talking to you, than he's probably doing it on his own accord".

kunwoo laughs. what's so funny? mark inquires in his head, his ice cream is beginning to melt. "do you really expect me to believe that? you've always been such a jealous prick—"

"see? told you i got more sprinkles" you pause when your eyes gaze upon the scene before you. "oh! hi.. kunwoo" you grit your teeth, eye twitching in the slightest, mark almost laughs at the sight.

"oh you've gotta be kidding me, you two? give me a fucking break".

"oh please, don't start".

"i will, actually! you never seem to stop y/n, how long until you go off to the next guy—"

"you can't just say that.." you place a hand on mark's shoulder, making him go quiet.

"are you still angry with me for yelling at you?" you question, tone suddenly growing much more irritated. "sorry i don't enjoy when people try to force themselves onto me".

kunwoo scoffs, and mark has to bite his tongue, he might say something he isn't proud of. "for the last time, it was a joke, he always acts like that—"

"well then maybe you can see why i don't want to talk to you!"

mark sighs, clearing his throat. "anyway, i don't exactly appreciate the company of someone like you.. and my ice cream is now melting, maybe sort things out with your.. friend first".

and then mark is being dragged back into the ice cream parlor, his hand being tugged by yours. you sigh as you make it inside, peaking to make sure kunwoo didn't follow you in. "bastard".

mark blinks, noticing the way your shoulders slump. "y/n.. are you okay?"

you suck your teeth, immediately displaying a fake smile. "of course i am, kunwoo just sucks, he doesn't deserve my time".

mark scoffs. "if you really think i'm gonna believe that, you must be crazy".

you knew mark wouldn't believe that in the slightest. you drop your smile and simply hum, taking in a deep breath. "i just don't want to think about what he said, it'll take away too much of my attention and then i'm gonna start taking it personally which will never get us anywhere!"

mark is about to open his mouth again, but you cut him off. "can we get more ice cream now? ours has become like.. liquid by now".

"get as much as you please" mark shrugs. "i don't really want anymore".

you glance at him, narrowing your eyes. "come on, get as much as you want, i'm paying!"

mark can barely stop his lips from turning up, the interaction with kunwoo is still rubbing him the wrong way, but he guesses he can let it go for now. "your sprinkles look sad, good for them".

the comment gets a flurry of giggles out of you, you get nothing but absolute amusement from those words. "what is it with you and sprinkles? why do you hate them?"

"they're too sweet".

"oh, so you hate me?" you rebut, scooping chocolate ice cream into your cup and laughing at something in your head. "sprinkles are my pride and joy".

"i'm not your pride and joy?"

"you don't compare to sprinkles".

mark gasps, sticking his tongue out at you. now he's the one that's irritated, how funny. "i can't believe i'm losing to sprinkles, i feel insulted".

"it's the truth, sorry".

mark frowns, you know he isn't genuinely offended by that, because he keeps fighting his life whenever he glances over at you. "see? i hate sprinkles".

you lick your spoon again, nudging mark with your shoulder. "stop pouting, can you forgive me?"

you gently take his jaw and turn him towards you, a red color spread across mark's cheeks as he stares you in the eye. he avoids your gaze, cheeks still dusted red. "i guess so.."

you smile.

"just don't compare me to sprinkles again, i mean much more than they do".

"okay mark, i'll make sure not to do that next time".

and maybe mark smiles much too widely at that.

MARK REALLY LOST TRACK OF TIME AFTER YOUR GUYS' first kiss, because he feels like he blinked and it's suddenly his birthday. the best thing about summer birthdays is that he can party to his heart's content, drink till he passes out and wakes up with a terrible hangover. sometimes he forgets birthdays exist, because it feels like his birthday takes ages to come around with the amount of stuff he's busy doing during the school year. you neglected to mention what you'd be doing for his birthday, but you usually do that every year, you love to simply announce surprises out of the blue, you do that with all of your friends. mark has always thought he's good at reading you, but reading you as the second of august steadily approaches has become much more difficult.

mark already knew everyone was coming, he had mentioned it in passing way before you two decided to go on vacation, but he still finds himself startled when the doorbell rings and there are two giants standing on the doorstep (jaehyun's look of offense at being called 'giant' really brightened his mood).

"y/nie!" jungwoo surges through the front door and practically lifted you from the floor when he wrapped you in a tightening hug. "oh i thought mark would've killed you by now".

"trust me i tried".

your face falls at the words from mark, jungwoo attacking your cheeks with kisses. "he loves me too much to actually kill me".

"why are you lying?"

"he's probably telling the truth! knowing you anyway.."

mark's jaw drops, it's always donghyuck going after him isn't it? he crosses his arms, grimacing. "you can't insult me, it's my birthday".

"it's not insulting if it's true!"

mark again frowns, but then he snaps his fingers as soon as you're released from jungwoo's grip and stumble towards donghyuck. "johnny, dude, don't they look like twins?"

johnny blinks, narrowing his eyes. "woah! no they kinda do!"

"see!?"

jaehyun tilts his head. "i see two donghyuck's.."

you and donghyuck exchange glances, both displaying the same emotions on your face. "i do not like this comparison, hyuck is not that great—"

"hey fuck you!"

"no fuck you actually! how do you think i'm anything like him—"

"okay okay, calm down" mark steps in between you two, but his touches linger on you more than they do on donghyuck. "not on my birthday, please".

you don't say anything more, simply snicker and look away from mark. donghyuck stares at you two strangely, but he doesn't comment on what he sees. "i'm going to be singing for you, though!"

"oh god not again".

you snort, and donghyuck frowns. "i will pierce your eardrums—"

"okay! let's not threaten anyone! mark is twenty four! let us celebrate!"

mark couldn't have heard too many piercing shouts that day, which quickly turned into night. by the time the clock strikes eight, jaehyun is passed out on the couch, but mark can't figure out if it was the alcohol or simply the exhaustion from being endlessly dragged around by everyone.

where the fuck did all the booze come from? mark has no idea, but he can't push down the sudden anxiety he feels. it's nice to be around everyone again, though he would never admit it, he missed renjun and donghyuck's annoying fights, missed jungwoo's drunk escapades, missed the annoying complaints from yangyang, yes he missed his friends.

but mark suddenly has a realization when he doesn't see you around. that's strange. you should be on your fifth cup of shitty alcohol by now. it isn't time for presents yet, but he still misses your presence anyway.

it's hard to not miss the person you've been spending pretty much all of the past month with.

"xiaojun, have you seen y/n?"

dejun blinks, patting yangyang's back, the younger sobs about something mark can't exactly get. "uh.. no, sorry".

mark smiles. "it's fine i.. whatever thanks".

"you really haven't told him yet?" dejun raises an eyebrow, and mark immediately gets what he means, face going bright red.

"i'm working on it okay? i just.. you know what, thank you dejun".

dejun giggles, simply muttering a small 'your welcome' and waving his hand forward.

mark sucks his teeth, he avoided drinking in case no one sober was left, but the only thing he's focused on is making sure you're alive. you're much too impulsive, maybe you'll fall off the roof or something without anyone knowing, or maybe a bunch of aliens are going to come abduct you and no one will be there to witness it.

mark drags his feet everywhere, trying to catch sight of you, but you seemed to have disappeared. he almost calls out your name, but he stops himself in fear of sounding like an idiot drowned in desperation.

"there you are" make startles, but relaxes the moment he catches sight of you. your eyes light up when you see mark, and you extend your hand forward, offering it for mark to take. he sighs in relief, intertwining it with yours.

"you aren't drunk".

you chuckle, caressing the soft of his skin. "is that surprising to you?"

"..kinda".

you roll your eyes. "okay fuck you, i just don't feel like it today".

mark stares at you for a moment, then tightens his grip on your hands and tugs you forward, taking you away from the loud music of the hallway. "woah, where are we going?"

"somewhere.."

you don't get the meaning of that, which makes your nose scrunch. "slow down, do you not want to be around other people?"

"we just.. can we talk?"

mark leads you outside, anxiously picking at his own skin as he awaits your response. he doesn't turn around to see your smile, but you give him a squeeze of the hand. "of course, that's what i'm here for".

you don't often go on the balcony, because you two spent so much of your vacation out doing random things, but it's a good place for privacy when the rest of the house has everyone else in it.

"you know.. um— i'm confused, on what we are? i don't want to just be.. i don't know your kiss buddy? i want to be more than that and i know you sometimes dislike labels but i've literally been in love with you like— forever and oh my god it pains me to think about it because then i think you don't feel the same way so i.. overthink everything".

you blink, and mark covers his face with his hands to avoid your eyes. you laugh, looking down at the rushing ocean, it appears beautiful from this view. "hey, look at me please".

mark groans. "don't say please".

"mark".

mark doesn't fully remove his hands from his face, but he lowers his hands in order to see you. "what makes you think i don't feel the same way?"

mark sighs. "i know you".

you nudge him, that same pretty smile tugging at your lips. "not well enough, i thought it was obvious?"

mark bites into his inner cheek, he feels just a bit stupid right now. "i don't really get how you think these days".

you look down at where your hands stay laced together, and you abruptly tug him forward, eliciting a yelp from mark. "i'm just as in love with you as you are with me".

"tell me you're not joking".

"mark".

"sorry" he's quick to squeak. "i'm just trying to grasp this situation but i really can't because.."

mark pauses, letting out a well needed breath. "because?"

"you love me too" mark whispers, as if he couldn't believe such a thing could be possible. you laugh, so amused that you'd probably fall over from how hard you were laughing.

"mark, was that confession last week not an indication?"

"well some people just randomly do that during sex i didn't really think about it like that! i just thought you were being.. you".

you roll your eyes. "my god i love you".

mark pauses, those words striking him in a way only your words can. "say it again".

your lips turn up, tease on the tip of your tongue, but you giggle softly and take his other hand in yours. you lean closer, eyes laser focusing on the curves of mark's own. "i love you, mark, so much".

mark is about to jump off the balcony in pure joy. "you should kiss me".

you feign confusion, tilting your head. "should i?"

"yeah, it's my birthday, don't withhold something like this from me".

you hum, rolling your eyes at the words. how funny, you guessed he was going to say that. you feel his hands squeeze against yours, and you simply snicker. mark can't stare at you without exponentially heating up, but you don't say anything, just sigh.

mark lets go of one of your hands to gently take your jaw and press his lips to yours. your lips are always so soft, and they still taste like cherries. mark isn't the biggest fan of cherries, but he can't get over the taste when it's on your lips.

"you're lips are always so soft" mark chuckles against you. "you stack up on chapstick?"

"no mark i literally apply it regularly".

mark snorts.

"hey, ask me".

"what?"

"ask me out, stupid".

mark rolls his eyes. "will you be my boyfriend, y/n?"

you pretend to think about it, whistling as your thoughts run in circles around your brain. "sure, i guess!"

mark punches you in the shoulder, making you squeak and jump back, avoiding his touch. "you guess? i'm breaking up with you".

"we've been dating for two seconds! take me back, please!" you wrap your arms around mark and rest your head against his back, lips turned downward in feigned sadness.

mark can't even stifle his laughs anymore. "fine, but only because it's you".

you giggle in joy, taking mark's hands and turning him around. "it's probably time for gifts now, come on, before jungwoo starts thinking the worst".

"the worst?"

"he probably thinks we're fucking up here or something".

mark scrunches his nose, not even making a noise when you lurch him forward with a tug of his hand. "how would that be bad?"

"he'd probably like.. scream and then make a big show out of it".

mark stares at you incredulously, and you stop to ruffle his hair. "you're going to like my gift the best".

"oh? how are you so sure about that?"

"i know you".

mark doesn't respond to that one, because he can't deny the fact that you do.

THE FINAL DAYS OF AUGUST STEADILY APPROACH, AND with that also comes the end of your summer vacation. mark's birthday was as enjoyable as it was magical, maybe birthday love confessions are tacky to some people, but mark giggled over it for so long that by the time he stopped giggling over it, almost three weeks had passed. the weeks after mark's birthday were filled with idiotic love adventures that you can only describe as purely out of this world. kissing in the ocean is one thing, and drunkenly sobbing over stray cats is most definitely another. mark writes infinitely obscure sentences into that journal of his, and the bed sharing becomes much more regular. it only started growing normal after sex started growing a little normal, you two couldn't even make excuses for falling asleep in each other's arms anymore.

you two don't even really sleep most nights though, you spend them walking the beach and daring each other to jump into the ocean, knowing full well it's too cold to be doing that.

there isn't much of a change, even with the boyfriend titles being bestowed upon you two. you still go on dates, attempt to cook (mark really needs to work on that), belt exo songs at midnight, and dance in the living room.

wine nights and journaling make themselves regular guests in your daily routine, paired with you chiding mark to take care of himself. the romantic connotations may have been hidden before, but they're bright as day now with how unashamedly mark stares at your lips while you literally do anything.

the pure domesticity of the whole thing makes you feel warm, mark relays his true thoughts to you in the cool whispers of the night, you remind him it's important to talk about how he feels, and you always manage to coax him into it with tickles to his stomach, practically making him die with laughter so he gives into your incessant demands.

it gets to the point where you almost run out of things to do, spending every waking moment together just makes the act of leaning against each other enough to pass time. you don't even have to talk to have a good time with mark, just being around him is fine.

the door to your room swings open, and mark steps in, falling directly on top of you, no words said. you sigh, turning off your phone. "well hello to you too, baby".

mark almost freezes, he doesn't know how long it'll take for him to get used to being called that, but he really likes the sound of it. "y/n.."

"yes?" mark rests his head onto your chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat, smiling as he feels your hand beginning to go up and down his back, the ministrations bringing him a feeling of solace.

"my mom called" he begins, his words merely a low mutter. "i told her about us and.. well, i was thinking we could go to vancouver this coming winter break?"

you snicker. "you planned ahead?"

"i always plan ahead, and besides, my mom misses you! you aren't about to deny an opportunity to see my mom are you?"

you roll your eyes. "no mark, i love your mom she's an angel, i'm just a bit surprised".

mark takes your hand, intertwining your fingers. "it'll be a good trip, like.. the nostalgia and stuff? that's where we met!"

he's so excited about it, his pure giddiness makes a smile form on your lips. "i love the idea of that, mark, and i also miss your mom too".

mark narrows his eyes. "okay well now you're steering off track".

"seeing your mom is like a plus one! what do you mean steering off track?"

mark frowns, rolling off you and landing right beside you on your mattress, a small thumb accompanying his movement. the faint sound of the ocean rushing begs a smile out of you. "can't believe summer vacation is over, i've become attached to this place".

mark slings an arm over your waist, and he tucks his face into your neck, pressing a small kiss to the skin. "you like living by the beach?"

"yes! i'll miss my stupid room with the huge window in front of the water!"

you snort. "you baby".

mark turns over, resting his arms onto your chest and staring down at you, biting his bottom lip. "you look so.. easy like this".

"is that how you tell me you want a kiss?"

mark presses his lips together. more or less is his silent answer, and he leans forward to capture your lips, fingers caressing the skin of your collarbone. "no more kissing while swimming, huh?"

"we could always just hijack chenle's pool".

mark stares at you, and then you both burst into laughter. "chenle would never!"

"it's funny to think about, though".

mark clicks his tongue, taking your bottom lip in between his teeth. he's never going to get tired of this, it's insane how addicting your lips are, they fit perfectly with his, as if you two were molded for each other.

there's only a few seconds of pulling away for air before he's on you again, and your hand slides up his shirt, feeling the bare skin of his side. he gives a breathy chuckle against your lips, as if amused, but he's gotten used to your tricks by now.

"you are so unbelievable" he remarks, nipping at your jaw then slowly starting down your neck, taking the skin between his teeth and giggling as he feels you suddenly grip his hip.

you scrunch your nose, successfully hiding your whimpers by holding in your breaths instead. "mark, we have to go watch the sunset".

your voice is raspy, wrecked from the assault on your neck. you feel mark's lips turn up on your skin, his resounding chuckle sending vibrations through your body. "you just remembered that.."

"yep".

mark frowns, pretending to think it over. "sunset doesn't matter right now".

you feign shock at the words, widening your eyes. "so you're just disregarding our evening plans now?" you inquire, hissing when he again latches himself onto your neck, god he really does like doing that.

"this is better, trust me" he whispers, and you close your eyes, a small sigh escaping your lips as you bask in the feelings mark gives you.

"you totally sound untrustworthy when you say that".

mark again laughs, his nail scratching at your thin shirt. "just.. let me do this for you, okay?"

you pause, finally shrugging as mark smiles, it's just a little addicting, his smile. he then leans down and kisses you again, unable to contain his excitement when he got yet another taste of that cherry chapstick.

ocean waves crash against each other faintly outside your window, but all you can think about are mark's lips on yours.

#mark lee #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #mark nct #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark lee drabbles #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #mark lee x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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letsgetrowdy43 · 4 months ago

Text

Sailor Song (Rowan’s Version)—

Quinn Hughes x Honey Hughes

Based on the song “Sailor Song” by Gigi Perez

Warnings: Mentions of sex, nothing in detail though!! Underage drinking, swearing, and a little angsty but it gets resolved! There is talk about complications of birth and death, but both Honey and baby are fine. If anything else please let me know <3

Au Masterlist!!

"I saw her in the rightest way, looking like Anne Hathaway Laughing while she hit her pen, and coughed, and coughed"

Quinn lay on the edge of his tiny dorm bed, the faint light from his desk lamp casting a soft glow over Honey’s face that was pressed gently into his chest. She had fallen asleep not long after he had nervously asked her out, lips still tingling with the kisses they shared after many years of denied feelings, her breath warm and rhythmic as her chest rose and fell. Her curls fanned out like a halo on the pillow, and her lips curved into a sleepy smile that made his heart swell with an overwhelming sense of joy as he squeezed the hand that still firmly held his.

He still couldn't quite believe it Just hours ago, he had been unpacking his dorm, rehearsing the words of a love confession in his head, his palms sweaty and his heart pounding as she helped him decorate his dorm.

Honey had been his friend for so long, her laughter a constant melody in his life, her presence a continual source of comfort. Asking her out had felt like the most monumental risk. Yet here she was, curled into his side, his chest filled with a sense of completion as it settled that this was what he had been missing for years

Quinn brushed a stray curl from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. Her skin was soft and warm, and he marvelled at how perfectly she fit against him. This moment, this quiet intimacy was everything he had ever dreamed of.

He shifted slightly, trying not to disturb her, as he pulled her flush against his chest. The faint hum of the campus at night filtered through the open window, a reminder that the world outside was still turning, indifferent to the love in this tiny room.

He was forever thankful that his roommate, Josh, had opted to stay out with the rest of the team, rather than running into their shared dorm and ruining the peace that currently occupied the air.

Honey stirred, murmuring something in her sleep, and Quinn held his breath, afraid to wake her. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his collarbone, and then a second kiss was placed on his cheek before she flipped over so he could spoon her, making more room for him on the tiny mattress, she sighed contentedly as he settled against her. The simplicity of the gesture, the ease with which she reached for him, made his chest tighten with emotion.

He gazed at her, propped up on one arm so he could memorize every detail of her face—the curve of her lips, the flutter of her eyelashes, the way her nose crinkled slightly as she dreamed. He wanted to capture this moment forever and never let it go.

It was a feeling he had never known before, this certainty that she was the one.

Quinn had always been a dreamer when it came to Honey, lost in his thoughts, but the reality of it all had become better than any dream he could conjure. He could see their future together, a series of shared laughter, quiet nights and whispered secrets. He imagined their life in Vancouver, cooking meals in cramped apartments, supporting each other through life's challenges, starting a family, and celebrating each other's triumphs.

That was all if she would have him for that long.

He had heard people talk about love at first sight, but this was different. It was love that had grown over time, rooted in friendship and nurtured by their ever-changing lives. It was a love that hadn't appeared out of thin air, gentle and persistent until one day he realized it had taken hold of him completely.

He gently placed his heart into her hand to keep, and hopefully, she wouldn't be giving it back any time soon.

Honey shifted again, snuggling closer to him, he kissed the top of her head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, and closed his eyes, content to just hold her and listen to her breathe.

He didn't need grand declarations or elaborate gestures. This was enough—this simple, perfect night with Honey asleep in his arms. He knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning of their story, and he couldn't wait to see where it would lead them.

"And then she came up to my knees, begging, "Baby, would you please, do the things you said you'd do to me, to me?"

Quinn watched as the party buzzed around them, the music loud and the blue LED lights that hung around the room dim. They were tucked away in a quiet corner, his hand gently placed on Honey's hip as they watched their friends let loose.

She leaned into him, her breath tickling his ear as she whispered, "Can I kiss, Q?"

Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, but filled with a familiar sweetness that made his heart race. He turned to face her, his eyes locking onto hers. Without a word, he closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a tender kiss.

Honey sighed against his lips, her hands sliding up to cup his face, beer forgotten on the table next to her as she clung to him in this all-consuming kiss. Quinn's arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. It was as if they were the only two people in the room, lost in each other.

When they finally pulled apart, Honey's eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and something deeper. She bit her lower lip, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as her fingers toyed with the collar of his t-shirt, "let's get out of here, go to my dorm," she said a little suggestively, her voice barely audible over the thumping bass of the music.

Quinn nodded, his hand slipping into hers as they navigated through the crowd, biding their goodbyes and ignoring the wolf whistles from Quinn's teammates. The night air was cool against her skin as they stepped outside, the street lights casting a soft glow as they made their way back to campus.

Inside, the door barely closed behind them before Honey pulled Quinn into another kiss, more urgent this time. Their hands roamed, exploring familiar yet unknown territory. They moved together with a sense of urgency, shedding clothes and mumbling about their shared nerves in the dim light of her room.

Their bodies pressed together, skin to skin, as they tumbled onto the bed. Laughter erupted from Honey as she placed sloppy kisses all over Quinn's face, from the bridge of his nose to his jaw Quinn's hands traced the contours of Honey's collarbones, eliciting soft moans that sent shivers down his spine as his lips attached to her neck, finding her sweet spot just under her ear.

They moved in sync, movements of need and eagerness, making up for lost time with every touch, every kiss.

Quinn's heart raced as he kissed his way down Honey's neck, her back arching in response as he unclasped her bra. She whispered his name, a plea and a promise all at once as he gawked at how beautiful she was. They came together, their out-of-breath and slightly sweaty bodies entwined as their cheeks lit up with blush, lying comfortably in each other's hold, in awe of one another.

Quinn had never understood the difference between simply having sex and 'making love', and as cringy as it sounded, there wasn't a moment or movement in that dorm that night that wasn't fuelled by something that very closely resembled love in its purest form.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other's arms, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. Honey rested her head on Quinn's chest, her fingers tracing little stars on his freckled skin as he played with the ring on her other hand.

Honey lifted her head, her eyes meeting Quinn's, "I love you," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and certainty. Quinn smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "I love you too, Hun," he replied, his voice steady and sure.

This was it for him, he realized. He had found his home, his love, in Honey.

"Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor? And when you get a taste, can you tell me what's my flavour?"

Quinn and Honey sat side by side at the small desk in his dorm room, their legs pressed against one another as they searched through the textbooks and notes spread out before them. They had been studying for hours, the pressure of upcoming exams weighing on them, but the comfort of each other’s presence made the task a little more bearable.

Honey glanced over at Quinn, her heart swelling with affection as she watched his brows furrowed with a concentration on the book in his hands. She loved watching him like this, seeing the dedication he poured into his studies, it was hot.

Unable to resist the pull any longer, Honey leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, lips brushing against the soft cotton of his shirt as she hummed at the feeling. Quinn looked up, surprised but pleased, his intense expression softening into a smile.

“What was that for?” Honey shrugged, a smile dancing on her lips, as she flattened out the material of his sleeve where her lips left a mark, “just felt like it,” she mumbled as her cheeks turned a little pink, but there was something deeper in her gaze, something she had been wanting to say.

Quinn set down his pen, turning to face her fully, his knee brushing against her thigh, her hand moving out to touch him, “what’s on your mind?” She took a deep breath, her heart pounding. “I just wanted to tell you how much I love you. Like, I love you. More than I ever thought was possible.”

She said it so nonchalantly like it was the easiest sentence to roll off of her tongue. It was enough to make him want to lean forward and press gentle, slightly sloppy kisses across her face.

He reached out, taking her hand in his, “I love you too.”

Honey shook her head, her eyes glistening with emotion, “No, you don’t understand. I mean, I love you so much it scares me sometimes. You’re my best friend, my partner, my everything. Being with you feels like coming home, and I’ve never felt this way before. It’s overwhelming, but in the best possible way.”

Quinn’s heart swelled with emotion as he listened to her. He could see the sincerity in her eyes, the depth of her feelings reflected in her gaze as she chewed on her bottom lip. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close, feeling the steady beat of her heart against his chest.

“I feel the same way,” he whispered into her hair as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, “I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

Honey pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his, “promise me you'll always love me, even if this doesn't work and we go back to being friends,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I never want a world where you aren't in it." Quinn cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had escaped down her cheeks, “I promise,” he said, his voice filled with unwavering conviction, “but there will never be a time again where we aren't together, you're it for me.”

Honey smiled through her tears, leaning in to kiss him. It was a kiss filled with love and promises, a kiss where everything else faded away—the stress of exams, the worries about the future. All that mattered was the love they had for each other, a love that was deep and lasting.

"I don't believe in God, but I believe that you're my saviour My mom says that she's worried, but I'm covered in this favour"

Ellen stepped out of her car, the campus growing busy with students heading and leaving classes. It had been a few months since she had seen Quinn, and his phone calls had become less frequent, which worried her. As a mother, she couldn’t help but fret over her eldest son’s well-being, even though he constantly reassured her that everything was fine.

She made her way through the familiar pathways of the university, memories of moving Quinn into his dorm flashing through her mind. When she reached his building, she took a deep breath and called him to let her into his building.

A moment later, the door swung open, and Quinn stood there, surprise and delight lighting up his face as he pulled her into a hug, “What are you doing here?” “I wanted to check on you,” Ellen said with a smile, as she pulled away and flattened out his slightly outgrown hair, “you haven’t been calling as much, and I got worried.” Quinn chuckled as he led her down the hallway and two flights of stairs to his dorm, “I’m sorry. Things have just been busy with school. But I promise, I’m doing great.”

She stepped into his room, eyes landing on him as she studied his face. He looked healthy and happy, a certain glow about him that hadn’t been there the last time she saw him. “You look good, Quinn. Really good.” “I feel good,” he replied with a shrug, a secret smile playing on his lips.

“I was just about to go grab lunch. Do you want to join me?” “Of course,” Ellen said, feeling a wave of relief washes over her. Seeing him so happy eased the worry that had been gnawing at her. Balancing the life of three growing boys had always been a struggle, but not being able to constantly see Quinn and make sure he was okay was one of the biggest challenges.

They walked to a nearby café, chatting about his classes and the projects he was working on, talking a little about the team, but knowing she would rather hear about his grades than practices. As they settled into a cozy booth, the door opened, and Honey walked in, her face lighting up when she saw Quinn.

“Hey, Q!” she called, making her way over to their table, “I thought I’d find you here.” A grin rested on his lips as he watched her face light up at the sight of Ellen, a second mom to Honey throughout high school, "Hun!" His Mom stood up to pull the girl into an embrace before asking her to join the two of them for lunch.

"I wouldn't want to intrude." "Nonsense, you're family!"

Ellen couldn’t help but notice how Quinn’s demeanour had subtly changed. He was more relaxed, more at ease, and his smile was wider than she had seen in a long time. Honey and Quinn exchanged glances and soft touches that spoke volumes about their relationship.

As they figured out their orders, Honey was the first to stand up, offering to order for all of them. "I'll get our food. You two catch up," she said with a smile, her eyes lingering on Quinn for a moment longer than necessary.

Ellen watched as they parted, noting the silent exchange between them. Their eyes spoke volumes, conveying a depth of emotion that words might fail to express. Honey walked away, glancing back with a small, knowing smile before joining the line.

Once Honey was out of earshot, Ellen turned to Quinn. "Is there something going on between the two of you?" she asked gently, noticing how Quinn’s face turned a light shade of pink. "It's still new," Quinn admitted, nodding slightly. "But she makes me really happy."

Ellen's smile widened as she looked over at Honey, who was now waiting in line. She could see the genuine affection in Quinn’s eyes, a brightness she hadn’t seen in a long time. Catching Quinn’s gaze in the corner of her eye, Honey grinned, Ellen watched as her heart swelled with happiness.

"Well, I'm glad," Ellen said, her eyes misting with emotion. "Happy looks really good on you." Quinn's smile was wide as his attention shifted back to the table. "Thanks, Mom."

They chatted comfortably, the easy rapport between mother and son bringing back memories of home. Ellen felt a profound sense of relief and joy seeing Quinn so content, so clearly in love.

When Honey returned with their orders, she set the plates down with a cheerful smile. "Here we go! One turkey club for you, Mrs. Hughes, a wrap for Quinn, and a Caesar salad for me." "Thank you, Honey," Ellen said warmly, her eyes twinkling as she looked at the young woman who had been a fixture in their lives for so long. "It’s nice to see you both so happy."

Honey glanced at Quinn, their eyes meeting with a shared understanding and affection, "It’s nice to be happy," she replied, her voice soft but filled with meaning.

"And when we're getting dirty, I forget all that is wrong I sleep so I can see you because I hate to wait so long I sleep so I can see you and I hate to wait so long"

Vancouver was making Quinn miserable, hockey was a dream, but the isolation felt never-ending. Quinn sat alone in his apartment in Vancouver, staring out at the city lights that stretched across the horizon. Despite the excitement and the fulfillment of his lifelong dream, a deep sense of emptiness gnawed at him.

He felt incomplete, a part of his heart missing.

Unable to bear the loneliness any longer, he picked up his phone and dialled Honey’s number. The phone rang a few times before her familiar, sweet voice filled his ears.

“Hey, Q,” Honey said, her voice warm but tinged with a sadness that matched his own. “Hey, Hun,” Quinn replied, his voice wavering slightly. He closed his eyes, savouring the sound of her voice, wishing he could reach through the phone and hold her close. “I miss you.” “I miss you too,” she whispered.

He could hear the strain in her voice, the same struggle he was feeling reflected in her words. They talked for a little while, giving each other a rundown of their days, and she started filling him in on all the drama occurring within her sorority in his absence. But the conversation was laced with an unspoken tension, the looming threat of an inevitable decision hanging over them.

After a moment of silence, Quinn finally voiced the thoughts haunting him, “I think… I don’t know how to be a human without you anymore,” he confessed, his voice breaking, “everything here feels wrong.” A quiet sniffle sounded from the other end as Honey began wiping away her tears, "I get it, I'm proud of you, but this is really hard" she mumbled as she laid down on her tiny dorm mattress.

"I don’t know how much longer we can keep doing this”

This was it.

It had been a growing issue between the two of them, for the longest time, even before they were together it was Quinn and Honey, a collective, neither of them having to live life without the other in nearly seven years. This part of their life seemed dedicated to figuring themselves out independently rather than as a pair, as it had been for many years.

Honey’s silence was deafening, and Quinn’s heart sank. He could almost see her, sitting in her room in Michigan, tears in her eyes as she struggled to find the right words.

“Maybe… maybe we need to take a break,” Honey finally said, her voice barely audible. “We could wait till Christmas when we are both home and we can make the decision then, I don’t want us to end up resenting each other because of this distance.” Quinn’s chest tightened, and he felt a sharp pain in his heart, they'd both be home in three weeks, three weeks to decide if the distance would make or break what seemed to be a perfect relationship, "Christmas it is."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he struggled to hold them back. “I love you,” he said, his voice cracking, “more than I could explain.”

First love is strange, it's about all or nothing, and right now he felt like he didn't have an ‘all’ to give, he had to go into his dreams, leaving his love back in Michigan.

“I love you too, Quinn,” Honey replied, her voice filled with sorrow. “And that’s why this is so hard.”

They lingered on the phone for a few more minutes, neither wanting to say goodbye. But eventually, they had to. Quinn ended the call, feeling a hollow ache in his chest.

He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the silence of his apartment feeling more oppressive than ever. The dream he had worked so hard to achieve now felt bittersweet, the absence of Honey a constant, aching reminder of what he was missing.

"She took my fingers to her mouth The kind of thing that makes you proud That nothing else had ever, worked out, worked out"

Summers were always a time of rest, a golden glow cast itself over the Hughes brother's new lake house, a little gift to themselves after signing the ELCs and starting that new chapter of their lives.

Tonight was the night everyone would be back in town, party to celebrate the summer and finally get to see everyone after months of being apart.

Quinn stood hands in the sink, washing all of the plates used at dinner before he joined the rest of the party outside for a bonfire. His eyes caught a glimpse of Honey out of his peripheral vision, and his breath caught in his throat as he turned a little to see her standing so prettily in a sundress, hair cut short with bangs, and a soft smile dancing on her lips.

"Want help?" she asked as she placed a small stack of dirty plates on the counter next to the sink. "If you wouldn't mind, I need someone to dry the dishes," he pointed to the dry cloth hanging on the handle of the stove.

She smiled and made her way beside him to start drying. Something was so soft and domestic about this moment, the two of them bumping shoulders every couple of seconds as they worked together.

"I never got to say it, but congrats on the Calder nomination, you were amazing this year," she said softly as their fingers brushed while he placed a freshly cleaned plate into her hand. "Thank you, Hun," the use of her nickname made her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink as they stared at each other for a second, Quinn's eyes dipped to her lips and then back up to her eyes, a quiet asking of permission to kiss her after so many months of being apart.

She leaned in as her hand gripped his forearm for balance, his soapy hands finding her hips as their lips almost met. But before they could kiss Jack and Honey's older brother Chase stumbled into the room causing the couple to jump away from each other.

"Glad to see you two getting along," Jack mused, unaware of the moment he just ruined as he rummaged through the fridge for his coolers. A knowing grin worked its way onto Chase's face as he looked at Honey, taking note of the slight embarrassment and flustered expression that rested on her cheeks.

"We'll see you out there?" Chase asked his little sister. "Yeah! Just finishing the dishes," her voice slightly cracking as she looked back to Quinn who was nodding and returning to the dishes that were almost done.

As Chase left the kitchen to return to the company outside, Honey let out a little laugh at how the two reacted to being caught. A little piece of her hurt that she felt the need to hide her love for Quinn.

"I can finish these so you can go be with our friends," Quinn motioned for her to start heading outside. She shook her head as she picked the cloth back up, "Not letting you clean up all on your own, I'm in it for the long run," she gave him eyes that told him her words were much deeper than she was letting on, her hip bumping into his as he nodded slowly.

"I really like your dress by the way. Blue suits you," he said, running one of his fingers over the little blue flower pattern on her hip. "Thank you," she mumbled as she returned to her job of drying and putting away the dishes.

Later in the night Honey and Quinn were the only two left at the fire, waiting for it to go down before they finally retired to their rooms. The crackling of the flames and the gentle noise of rippling water hitting the shore filled the silence between them, but it was a comfortable silence.

Quinn looked over at Honey, the firelight casting a warm glow on her face, her cheeks a little sunburnt and her hair a little messy as she nursed the cider in her hands, "I’m really glad you’re here," he said softly. "Me too," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at him, "I’ve missed you, Quinn. More than I can say."

Quinn patted the spot on the bench beside him, silently asking her to come to sit with him. She silently, and slightly tipsily made her way beside him, cheek pressed into his arm as she leaned against him. His hand found hers as they stared at the dying fire in front of them.

"I’ve missed you too. It’s been hard without you." Honey squeezed his hand, her eyes meeting his. "I know. But we’ll figure it out, won’t we?"

Quinn nodded, his heart full of hope. "Yeah, we will." Her head popped up a little to look him in the eyes, "I think you might be my soulmate,' she whispered as she pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder. Quinn had no more words to give, just lowering his head a little to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

A kiss to make up for the months of radio silence, a kiss that spoke more words than he ever could, one that eased both of them into knowing that this was it, no matter how long apart, it seemed they would always find one another, whether it be here or Vancouver, there wouldn't be a time where this love felt wrong.

But a few weeks and a handful of hookups later, they both returned to their lives apart, sorrowful, but also with a little promise that after senior year maybe the life they had brainstormed together could be a reality.

"And lately, I've tried other things, but nothing can capture the sting Of the venom, she's gonna spit out right now"

Quinn was startled awake at the noise of his phone buzzing in his ear, his do not disturb was turned on, meaning that the only people who could get a hold of him now were either his mother or Honey. He wiped the sleep from his eyes as he rolled over to see Honey's caller ID on his screen. A photo of the two of them at their high school graduation posing for a photo for their mothers, adoration filled their eyes as they laughed at something Honey had mumbled in his ear.

He put the phone up to his ear to hear a quiet cry on the other under, followed by a hiccup as a sorry left her mouth. "Hun? What's wrong?" his head was a little dizzy with sleep as he propped himself up on his elbow. "Quinn...” Her voice was shaky, “I’m so sorry to call you like this. I’m... I’m drunk, and I just needed to talk to you.”

“It’s okay, Hun. I’m here. What happened?” he asked, fully sitting up and focusing on her. “There was this party for homecoming at one of the frats, the team invited me,” she began, her words slurring slightly and she wiped away the stream of tears down her face, “and I was just trying to have fun, but then someone kissed me, and... and I didn’t stop it right away. I hate myself for it, Quinn. I hate that I even thought for a second it wouldn’t always be you.”

Quinn’s heart ached to hear the pain in her voice. “Honey, it’s okay. You’re allowed to live your life. We’re not together right now, remember? I’m not upset.” “I still feel terrible,” she sobbed, “It feels wrong because it’s not you. It’s never been anyone but you.”

Quinn smiled a little at that confession but quickly was brought back down to earth by the sound of her cries on the other end.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his own emotions, “I get it, Hun. I really do. I won’t lie and say I’m not a little jealous, but I'm not upset.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with relief. “I just... I needed to hear your voice, needed to know you don’t hate me.” “I could never hate you,” Quinn said softly, “you’re a part of me, always have been, always will be.”

They talked for a while longer, Honey’s sobs gradually subsiding as Quinn reassured her. She eventually fell asleep, makeup smudged down her face, but comfy in her bed and still on the call while Quinn listened to her soft breathing, a mix of longing and heartache filling him.

After ending the call, Quinn lay back down, unable to stop thinking about Honey. The thought of her with someone else stung, but he knew they were both trying to navigate their lives in the best way they could. He wondered when their time would finally come when the distance and the obstacles would no longer keep them apart.

"Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor? And when you get a taste, can you tell me what's my flavour?"

Honey's senior year had come and gone in the blink of an eye. She loved every second of it, but she was so ready to start the next chapter of her life. Now, she was on the hunt for her first full-time job, aiming for something in the media field in the Michigan area.

She also gave in to her curiosity and looked into jobs in the Vancouver area as well, pretending not to be upset as she job searched, fully aware that there wasn't, and probably never would be, a set plan for her to move in with Quinn any time soon. She and Quinn had yet to discuss whether their futures aligned. Silently, she hoped he would ask her to get back together because she knew there was no one else for her. However, she wasn't willing to be the girl who inserted herself into his new life.

She stood in front of the mirror in her room, adjusting her graduation cap and gown. A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced at the clock, figuring it was one of her parents coming to check on her before the ceremony.

When she opened the door, her breath caught in her throat.

There stood Quinn, looking slightly nervous but smiling. He was here, in the flesh, despite the long distance and his demanding schedule.

“Quinn,” she whispered, tears already forming in her eyes as she flung herself into his arms for the first time in nearly a year, “You told me you couldn't make it.” “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him, arms still wrapped around the girl as he pressed a kiss to the side of her head, “you thought I wasn't gonna come?” "I did, and I was mad at you for it," she gently smacked him in the chest as he laughed.

Honey pulled away momentarily, her hands cupping his face, thumbs running over the beard he was growing out as she stared at him with adoration.

"I could hear the anger in your message," he whispered as his hands found solace on her waist. She rolled her eyes and pulled away, beckoning him into her room so she could finish getting ready while they continued their talk.

Quinn caught her by the wrist before she could get too distracted with the final touches. Her eyes dropped to his hands, in the one not gently holding her was a tiny velvet box, "Quinn if that ring I'll be so mad at you," she whispered jokingly as he shook his head. "Not a ring, but it is a question," he mumbled as he pressed the box into the palm of her hand.

She furrowed her brows and looked down, opening it to reveal a key that lay gently on a piece of satin. Quinn stood feeling a little stupid, and vulnerable, as she looked back up at him with a softened expression.

"Is this a key to your house?" "It is?" "It's a key to my apartment, and I know you said you didn't know where you were gonna end up after school, but a little selfish piece of me wants you all to myself in Vancouver," he mumbled as her gaze switched between the key and him.

The hand still in his grasp found the side of his face as she leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. A silent remedy to all the hurt over the past few years as she dropped the little velvet box on the ground, key still firmly in her grasp as her arms wrapped around his neck and she deepened the kiss.

"Finish getting ready, we're gonna need to leave soon," he mumbled into her skin as he looked down at his watch.

She smiled as she fixed his tie and then pushed him onto her bed and out of her way as she looked around the room for her jewelry box. Quinn laughed, watching her with amusement as she darted around the room, trying to gather the last of her things.

“Where is that necklace?” she muttered to herself, rifling through a drawer. Quinn stood up and walked over, gently placing his hands on her shoulders to calm her down.

“Take a breath,” he said softly, “you look beautiful already.” Honey paused, taking a deep breath as she met his eyes. “Thanks, Q,” she said, a hint of a smile on her lips, “I just want everything to be perfect today.” “It will be,” he assured her, handing her the necklace she had been searching for, “and I’ll be right there with you.”

She took the necklace from his hand, her fingers brushing against his. “I know,” she said, her voice softer, “that means everything to me.”

Quinn helped her clasp the necklace around her neck, his fingers lingering for a moment before he stepped back to admire her. “Ready?” he asked. “Ready,” she nodded, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. She took his hand, feeling a sense of completeness she hadn’t felt in a long time.

As they walked out of her room and down the hall, Honey couldn’t help but feel that, despite all the uncertainty and challenges, everything was finally falling into place. Quinn was here, and with him by her side, she felt ready to face whatever the future held.

"I don't believe in God, but I believe that you're my saviour I know that you've been worried, but the truth is in my favour"

A little over a year later and life was seemingly as perfect as it could get, Quinn stood in the doorway of the lake house's cozy living room, his heart swelling as he watched Honey sleep on the couch. The soft glow of the evening light framed her peaceful face, a faint smile resting on her lips as her hand rested gently on her growing baby bump, and the glint of her wedding ring caught his eye, reminding him of how lucky he was.

The past year has been a whirlwind of happy accidents and full of so much love.

Honey found out she was pregnant a few months after she settled down into Quinn's apartment. Many tears were shed and a lot of anxiety filled those days, but there was nothing the two were more certain of than the love they knew they were going to give their child. Next came the wedding. Some might call it a 'shotgun' wedding, but to Quinn, it was simply a long time coming.

It seemed life was testing them, but they were handling it all with such ease, that there was nothing they couldn't do as a team.

Quinn quietly maneuvered his way around to the kitchen to get to the living room, carefully sitting down next to her sleeping figure as his eyes took notice of the pretty expression on her face, his fingers running through her curls as she let out a tired hum and unconsciously placed her head in his lap

His chest filled with a sense of gratitude as her hand subconsciously found him and placed it on her bump, mumbling about "kicking" as their son ran his foot along Quinn's palm.

He smiled softly and sat back up, fingers returning to her scalp as his eyes remained on her face.

Her eyes gently opened and immediately went to him, catching him in the act of staring as his hand found hers. "Why are you staring at me?" Quinn reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender, “because I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion, “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

Honey’s eyes softened, “I love you too, Quinn,” she murmured tears in her eyes as she squeezed his hand gently. "Why are you crying?" "Cause you're so sweet, and I’m so pregnant" she mumbled as she used her extra hand to fan her face before looking up at a grinning Quinn.

Quinn leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his heart full of love and contentment. As he pulled back, he couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter their challenges, they would always have each other. And in that moment, Quinn felt like the luckiest man in the world.

"And when we're getting dirty, I forget all that is wrong I sleep so I can see you 'cause I hate to wait so long I sleep so I can see you, and I hate to wait so long"

The soft glow of nightlights illuminated the nursery as Honey and Quinn moved quietly, their hearts full as they prepared their little ones for bed. Both Hayden and Warren were tucked into the same bed, snuggled up in their pyjamas after a long day on the boat. Now, they were freshly showered and all tired out.

Honey read them a book, but she didn’t even get through half of it before they both fell asleep in each other's arms, faces scrunched up as they hugged one another and slept peacefully.

Quinn grinned as he tapped his wife, pointing to the two sleeping little ones, then motioned for them to leave and start getting themselves ready for bed. They tiptoed out of the kids' room and into their own, grins on their faces as they both started their nighttime routines.

Honey finished brushing her teeth and stepped into their bedroom, feeling the comforting presence of their shared space. Quinn was already there, setting his phone down on the nightstand. He turned to her, his eyes filled with warmth.

“You know, we’ve got some pretty cute kids,” Quinn said, a playful smile tugging at his lips. Honey laughed softly, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Yeah, we do,” she agreed, resting her head against his chest. “It’s hard to believe how quickly they’re growing up, they used to be so little.”

Quinn pressed a kiss to the top of her head, as Honey crawled over top of him and to her side of the bed, a grin growing on her face as her fingers raked through his slightly outgrown hair, just the way she liked it. He looked over, watching as her eyes landed on his lips, her tucked under her teeth as she watched him lean over to press gentle kisses down her chest, his touch filled with love as he toyed with the straps of her tank top.

Honey cupped his jaw, bringing his face up to hers, thumb running over his bearded cheek before she placed a peck on his jaw and then pulled away to look at him again. “I’m so happy we found each other. I can’t imagine my life without you.” Quinn’s heart swelled at her words, he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her lips, “I love you, more than words can say.”

And that is how their night went—quiet confessions and lots of love as they talked through the night, sharing many intimate moments both verbally and physically until they were too tired out to continue.

"And we can run away to the walls inside your house I can be the cat, baby, you can be the mouse"

The sterile scent of the hospital room mixed with the faint beeping of monitors had Quinn in a panic. He sat beside Honey’s bed, cradling their newborn daughter, Maeve, in his arms.

His eyes were red-rimmed and wet with tears, his heart still pounding from the harrowing hours they had just endured. It seemed that every second his eyes weren't on either the baby or Honey he immediately went into fight or flight.

Honey lay pale but conscious, her eyes heavy but filled with love as she watched Quinn with their daughter. no one speaking as they let the tension sit in the air for a little, Honey so tired out, and Quinn unable to string a sentence together without the possibility of crying

Quinn looked down at Maeve, her tiny face peaceful and serene as he pressed against his bare chest. The overwhelming relief that she was healthy clashed with the residual terror of almost losing Honey. He gently rocked Maeve, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke to her.

He looked back up to the honey who was staring at him silently, "do you want to talk about it?" she said, voice strained and tired as Quinn looked at her with tears in his eyes.

"I dont think I’ve ever been that scared in my life," he whispered as his extra hand reached out to hold hers, a sad smile on her face as she nodded, "When they told me there were complications, I… I didn’t know what to do. The thought of raising our kids without you, of living without you—it was unbearable.”

The sentence itself was enough to make him cry, maybe even throw up, the thought of doing day-to-day life without her was unimaginable.

"I'm here though, and you won't ever have to worry about that again okay? I'm just fine, a little tired, but I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," she said reassuringly as her hand squeezed his with as much of her strength as she could. Quinn dropped her hand momentarily to wipe his tears as he nodded, trying to push all of it to the side and now focus on both Honey and Maeve being healthy.

“She’s perfect, just like you,” he said softly as Honey looked down at the bundle in his arms. "Can I hold her? I haven't gotten to yet," she asked so sweetly as Quinn smiled and nodded, standing up gently to place their little girl on her chest before he slipped his shirt back on.

"She looks just like you," Quinn brought his chair even closer to the side of her bed to lean in closer to the two of them. "She has your curls though, first of our babies that look like me," she beamed as Quin reached forward brushing a strand of hair from Honey’s face.

Quinn leaned in once again, pressing a tender kiss to Honey’s forehead, “I’m so grateful for you, I hope you know that,” he confessed as she looked at him with tears in her eyes, leaning forward to press her forehead against his.

They sat there in the quiet of the hospital room, their hearts beating in sync. The fear and anxiety began to fade, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. Maeve stirred slightly in Honey’s arms, a small, contented sigh escaping her lips as her little fingers gripped Honey's.

And at that moment, with their new baby girl safely in their arms and the worst behind them, they knew it was true. Together, they could face anything.

"And we can laugh off things that we know nothing about We can go forever until you wanna sit it out"

The car ride back from dropping Maeve off at the airport was a quiet one, she was heading off to start university, her big sister was already living in New York and promised her parents to take good care of her and help her get set up and comfortable in her dorm. Quinn and Honey drove in silence, each lost in their thoughts as the reality of their new life settled in. They were now empty nesters, life remaining in Vancouver, the years had brought many changes, but Quinn and Honey Hughes had embraced each one with open hearts.

Quinn's career on the ice had been remarkable, but now he found fulfillment in coaching, passing on his knowledge and passion to the next generation as the head coach of the Abbotsford Canucks. Honey, having made her mark in the business industry, had shifted her focus to organizing charities in the Vancouver area, using her skills to give back to the community.

Their home, once filled with the bustling energy of three children, was now a quieter place. Yet, it was still warm with love and laughter, often filled with visits from their kids who were now living their own lives.

Honey silently cried as they drove off in the opposite direction of the airport, Quinn's attention moved from the road to his crying wife. "What's wrong?" “I’m just thinking about how quickly it all went by. One moment, they were babies, and now… they’re all grown up and living their own lives.” Quinn squeezed her hand, feeling a lump form in his throat. “Yeah, it feels like just yesterday we were bringing them home from the hospital.”

Honey chuckled softly, a tear finally escaping down her cheek, “I’m so proud of them and us. We did a good job, didn’t we?” “We did,” Quinn agreed, his voice thick with emotion. “They’re amazing kids and good people, and that’s because of you. You’ve been the best mother they could ever ask for.” She smiled, leaning her head against the seat, “And you’ve been the best father and support system. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner through all of this.”

As they pulled into their driveway, the house stood quiet and serene, a stark contrast to the bustling home it once was. They got out of the car and walked inside, the silence enveloping them. Quinn took a deep breath, trying to shake off the melancholy that was settling in.

Honey wandered into the living room, looking at the family photos that adorned the walls. Pictures of birthdays, holidays, cup days, and everyday moments captured in time. She traced a finger over a photo of Maeve as a toddler, smiling up at the camera with a toothy grin while Hayden and Warren hugged her.

Quinn came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, “We’ve got a lot of great memories, don’t we?” “We do,” Honey whispered, leaning into him, her hands placed over the top of his.

“Now we get to make new ones, just the two of us.” He kissed her temple, feeling a sense of peace wash over him, “Yeah, we do.”

They spent the evening reminiscing, talking about their children and all the wonderful memories they had made.

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Quinn turned to Honey, his hand resting on her cheek, “I love you,” he said softly, his voice filled with emotion. “I’ve loved every moment of our journey together, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us.” Honey smiled, tears filling her eyes once again as she rolled into his arms, “I love you too, Quinn. We’ve had an incredible life, and I'm excited for the rest of our lives.”They fell asleep in each other’s arms, comforted by the knowledge that while their roles as parents had changed, their love for each other and their family remained the same. And as they faced this new phase of life together, they knew they were far from empty. Their hearts were full, and their love would continue to guide them through whatever came next.

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