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ohnogemini · 3 months

Text

Are You Sure?

Hello, the name is Gem ✧⭑๋

This is the first fic I have ever written, and I have been sitting on it for a few months entirely too nervous to post it. I know typically fics tend to be short but this one flew out of me and I could not stop. I would love to hear your feedback and thoughts however please be nice to me for I am but a ｡⋆୨soft baby୧⋆｡ I hope you enjoy my story that came to me after watching every video of Lee Minho going camping over and over again ᵔᴗᵔ

✶ Word Count: 13k

★ Genre: !afab reader x Lee Minho

✹ Rating: Explicit 18+ Minors Do Not Enter

★ Comments: Tropes used: oops one bed; friends to lovers. Fluff and yearning. Slow to smut but it gets there. Felix and Seungmin make an appearance. M & F receiving oral ; unprotected consensual sex ; light spanking ; some cursing.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪.

You're sitting on your hands, with your feet hanging off the dock looking out onto the clear lake before you. The water is still enough that you can see your reflection when you look over the edge. You pull a hand from under you and absentmindedly put a strand of hair back behind your ear.

The air is warm, but the shade from the tree nearest to you is covering the top half of your body and you silently thank it for shielding your head from the beating sun. You feel the vibrations of movement on the deck before you hear the footsteps and you're immediately reminded of the knot in your stomach, the tension in the air that has been pulling at you for the last 20 hours.

You're aware that you've been sitting here by yourself for a while but cannot place how long that could have possibly been. The footsteps approach and stop next to you; glancing down to your right you see his sandaled feet and slowly trail up to see his half smile, left side of his lip curled and his eyes looking soft and half closed.

He's dressed differently now than when you parted with the guys and came to sit at the dock. Soft black shorts, a black shirt with the sleeves cut off, a baseball hat sits on his head barely revealing fading blond hair around the tips of his ears. He's holding a small wicker basket, though you can't see its contents.

"Hi, Minho" you say softly - as your eyes fall back to your lap, curling your hands around the hem of your shorts. He chuckles a little.

"Would you like one?" You hear him grab something and the sound of a glass clinking together. You look back up and see he's holding out a bottle of soju, your favorite flavor.

You pretend to read a watch on your wrist that you don't have - " I suppose now is as good a time as any. "

You try to shine a sincere smile up at him and hope he doesn't catch that your joke may have a double meaning. You grab the bottle from him; he moves a little bit forward and gracefully but forcefully plops himself down over the edge next to you, quickly realizing he has slips on and pulling them off and setting them down next to him, along with the basket. Minho grabs another bottle and two tiny clear cups and offers you one with a sly grin and kind eyes.

You shake your head, "Thank you, but I don't think I'll need that at the moment". Twisting the cap off your bottle, you hold it out to him for a cheers.

His smile softens a little, air blowing out of his nose like he's trying not to judge you and clinks your glasses together. You turn straight ahead again and pull a long swig from the bottle relishing in the sweet taste of strawberries. He opens his and takes a long swig too, opting to go the same route as you perhaps to ease the tension or maybe he needs it, too.

A silence falls around you and him. It's gentle but the quiet tension is still there from last night and this morning. He's sitting a little closer than you had expected him to. A flash from last night pings through your head and you wince at the thought.

It's been 5 months since you last saw him. Although you text quite often, and he calls you occasionally to check in, just like he always has since you met him 4 years ago- the distance has grown recently and become a little harder for you, even though you'd never admit it. Last time you spoke on the phone he invited you to this vacation.

You were a little nervous at the thought of tagging along with him and a few of his roommates on a camping trip, but you couldn't fight the need to be by his side again, so you accepted.

Every day, thoughts spin in your head about him. Each time the feelings become more vivid, more real, and precise. The corner of his lips when he smirks. How his entire face lights up, head tilts back and eyes crease when he laughs at one of your dumb jokes. No matter how desperately you try, the images and thoughts always fight their way to the surface.

"Neulbo..." His voice is incredibly soft and teasing, trailing the nickname out a little long but it snaps you out of the small trance you were in. You look over to him with a squint of pretend aggravation. He lets out a loud, quick couple of punctuated ‘hahas' and smacks his knee. He knows the nickname annoys you but not in a bad way. It’s true, you are lazy, but only because you like to enjoy the little things in life.

Just like this moment.

"Have you reconsidered my offer to go fishing tomorrow morning? I think you'll be good at it since it doesn't take any skill." He winks. "Plus, it’s a perfect relaxation moment for a little sloth like you. It’s just like what we’re doing right now but - with stinky bait and a pole."

He finishes the last sentence with a cheesy grin, his perfect bunny teeth showing, head tilted a little- like he knows his charms are working on you.

"If it also involves some of this, then I suppose it can't be too bad. But I'm still debating!" You hold up your drink and take another long swig as you look him in the eyes. He doesn't look away as it drops from your lips, and you clasp it in both hands. His face falls to a more serious look and the knot in your stomach swirls.

In your head you're repeating, please don't bring it up, please don't bring it up, please don't bring it up. But he does...

"I'm sorry about last night. Seungmin can be a little instigator and doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut. And it certainly doesn't help that Yongbokie can sometimes be clueless. They mean well but I don't want you to feel uncomfortable during our time here. Only I am allowed to make you feel uncomfortable." He quickly reaches out and pinches your thigh and you let out a squeak.

He's always known how to break the tension in most situations- by making a funny face at you, saying something absolutely random that it catches everyone off guard, or simply screeching in the most ungodly way that everyone bursts out in laughter. This moment is no different.

The tension subsides except for the small pull in your stomach- you're not sure that will ever go away. He's not wrong about Felix either. You've been around him enough to know that his sunshine demeanor and kind soul is no facade. He would never intentionally make you feel awkward.

Seungmin on the other hand... He knew what he was doing. It was already determined during the group text when you guys were planning the trip that you and Minho would share one of the glamping tents while Felix and Seungmin shared the other. It made the most sense since you didn't know the others as well as him. What you didn't know, was that Seungmin had purposefully booked one with two small cots and another with one larger cot. That little shit. And since they got there before you and Minho, they had already picked the one with the two small cots.

After dramatically rubbing your thigh and making an exaggerated frown, you look back up at him,

"Felix is lucky he's so adorable. However, Seungmin is on my shit list."

He punches out a laugh with a fake shocked expression on his face. You continue, "I truly don't mind sharing a room with you, we've done it before. But hiding condoms under the pillow and loudly playing "Let's Get it On" from his phone pressed up against the side of our tent was him digging his own grave."

You smile and laugh a little, taking another sip as he falls back against the dock covering his face with his arm, his nose pressed into his elbow. He's really laughing now. It's pure and loud and makes you laugh harder. You turn your body towards him slightly, fold your right leg and put your elbow on your knee to look at him writhing in laughter.

It truly was funny what Seungmin did, but it did make you extremely aware that you would be sleeping very close to Minho all weekend. You continue to trail your eyes over him as he laughs. First to his perfectly toned arm laying over his face, down his chest that's bouncing softly with each laugh, falling to the slit that his shirt is making right over the top of his shorts giving you the tiniest, thrilling view of his tight stomach muscles, finally to his thighs... strong, thick muscles... perfect to sit on, or even bite...

The silence rings in your ear a moment and you are acutely aware that he has stopped laughing. Your eyes dart back to his face to see that he’s dropped his arm and was watching while you were very much staring down at his legs.

You see the smallest hint of a smirk across his lips - but you don't linger - and quickly bring your bottle up to slam the rest of your drink. He sighs softly and leans back up to a sitting position. With the way you turned to see him laughing, when he comes all the way upright, the closeness between you two is aggressively narrower than before.

Since this proximity is not new to either of you, you try not to move away so as not to seem startled by the sudden closeness, but your heart is beating rapidly; you hope he can't hear it or sense the tingles that run down your spine when his knee brushes yours. You remind yourself again that this is not abnormal, you've even rested your head on his shoulder a few times while watching a movie on the couch. But something in the air has felt different this weekend. Palpable.

"I suppose the guys will be back in the next half hour or so." He takes another sip of his drink and looks straight out across the lake.

You follow his eyes and take in the sight with him. The sun is just barely starting to fall slowly behind the mountains. This spot truly is serene. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his profile. Sharp but delicate. You turn ever so slightly to pretend you're looking at the oncoming sunset. His skin has become more honey-like since summer has started, and you hadn't noticed before, but he turned his hat backwards. Annoyingly attractive.

Although the lake sits still in front of you there is a faint sound of the river that flows behind the campsite and connects to the lake up above. You feel the heat rise slowly in your stomach but stop yourself. This is Lee Minho, your friend...

You shake out of your thoughts, smile and say, "I bet you 15,000 won Felix tripped and fell at some point."

He turns to you with a mischievous look "I bet you 15,000 more that Min tripped him"- Your hand raises to your lips with big eyes, and you can't help but giggle. His had bolts up and grabs the yours that was covering your mouth, "Let's go hide some of Min’s stuff!" He stands and pulls you up with him.

"I would love nothing more!" you say as you squeeze his hand.

You both remain for a second longer then would be normal with your hands lightly clasped, feeling an approaching heat flush up on your cheekbones, you pull your hand away to secure a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Also, you brought ALL of the soju for us?? Did you expect us to drink all of that just sitting out here?!" you look over his shoulder at the basket he brought. Sure enough, it had a bag at the bottom with ice and 6 bottles of soju sitting in it.

He turns around and points down at the basket "Firstly, that's not ALL the soju we have. But also, I wasn't quite sure how you were feeling. You opted out of the hike and then told us you'd wait by the lake. I figured maybe... if you didn't want to come back, we could sit here and drink heavily until we'd have to crawl to camp later for bed." He looks up with another sneaky half smile and a chuckle in the back of his throat.

His words were playful, but you can't help but notice that lying within those words was concern for you. Was it only concern? Or maybe he wanted to spend some alone time with you? You blink away the thoughts quickly.

"However fun that really does sound, I really want to mess with Minnie, and I am getting pretty hungry." You reach down to grab the basket, but he swats your hand away and wags his finger at you.

" Nuh uhh, my clumsy Neulbo."

You pull the towel tightly around your chest and tuck the top part in between your cleavage. The showers at the campsite are bleak but it got the job done. During your shower your mind continued to betray you. Your thoughts couldn't help wandering towards the way Minho's thighs looked flat against the dock, shivering at the thought of tracing your fingers over the defined muscles...

However, the cold water helped free your mind from the slight fog of the bottle of soju you inhaled while sitting with him at the dock, and your stomach was screaming at this point.

During the group text, Felix had brought up hot dogs for dinner and you were excited at the idea of having an American styled camping dinner. You missed your home but being in Korea for the past 5 years has been the kind of adventure and change your soul really needed. Besides, after meeting Minho a year into your time here everything really fell into place. It was an immediate connection. Both of you being on the more reserved side but still craving adventure, music and food. And damn did Minho know his food.

That's how you know that dinner isn't going to just be hot dogs. If anything, Minho has made at least 10 other side dishes, and you're not mad about that.

You quickly towel dry your hair and slip into your outfit. It’s still decently hot so you picked an oversized graphic tee with the collar and sleeves cut off, so it falls down one shoulder, your bandeau bra shows slightly on the sides, and jean shorts that are a little shorter than you remembered.

"Oh, wow Noona, you're absolutely glowing!" Felix says with a bright smile and a cute wave as you walk back into the opening of your campsite. You stick your tongue out to the side and wink as you pass him by to place your things inside your tent.

Minho had made the bed and even picked your jacket and purse off the ground and put them onto a hook at the back of the tent. You chuckle to yourself and throw your dirty clothes on top of your luggage in the corner, knowing he'll pester you later about your laziness. Right now, you're too hungry and ready for another drink to care.

"That's absolutely not how it works, and you have lost, just accept it." Seungmin is sitting back in a camping chair speaking to Felix who is dramatically waving his hands in the air.

"You can't only suggest word games with me and expect me to ever win a single round. If it was in English, I could win!" Felix stomps over to a large brown bag that they filled with games for the trip and pulls out Jenga. "We're switching to physical games, I'm too soft and tired for your mind games Min".

Pulling a bottle of soju out of the cooler you glance over to Minho who is working studiously over an open fire cooking. He's carefully turning over huge sausages on the grill and using a white towel here and there to wipe beads of sweat from his forehead.

You notice that the table next to him is just as you expect it to be, filled with small plates of Korean meats and side dishes. The man can never go without being extra when it comes to food. You bend back down to pick up another bottle of soju and a water bottle and mosey over to him.

"This looks like thirsty work." You outstretch your left hand that holds both a bottle of soju and water to him.

You can really see the sweat on his face and neck now. A single drip comes down from the corner of his forehead, slowly falling down his cheek to the swoop of his neck; he catches it with the towel pressing it down around his neck and onto the bit of chest that's showing from the top of his shirt.

His eyes blink at the drinks several times in serious thought and grabs both.

"At least someone appreciates my hard work out here." He gives you a small toothy smile and sets the soju down, twisting the water bottle cap off and chugging most of it in one go.

"I haven't seen that shirt in a while. I like what you've done with it." He points the water bottle at your shirt and goes back to drinking it.

You truly didn't think he'd remember giving you this shirt years ago. It was within the first year you guys became close. Being the clumsy person you are, when you were at his apartment you had spilled an entire glass of red wine on your new blouse; he demanded you take it off immediately so he could wash it in cold water and gave you one of his old t-shirts to wear. It was comfy and you liked the design. But you liked it especially because it was his.

"Oh," you chuckle nervously- "I hope you don't mind. You said I could keep it and it felt like the perfect shirt to make into a summer fit." You glance down at the cartoon cats high fiving on the front of the shirt and pull at the bottom hem a little.

"No, no. I don't mind. You somehow turned my old dusty shirt into a thing of fashion. Let's try not to ruin this one too, huh? I couldn't bear the thought of the kitties being thrown into the trash tonight. There is only so much heartache one can go through in life." His playful smirk is back on his lips again as he turns back to the fire to pull the food off the grill and place it on the table.

"Alright you animals, come eat before it gets cold and Lino gets angry!" He clanks the tongs together a few times towards Felix and Seungmin and they are up out of their seats headed to the table before he even finishes the sentence.

The food is outrageous. You can't help but wonder if it's because you're so hungry or purely because Minho can make anything delicious no matter where he is or what supplies he has. The sun had fully set, and you and Felix clicked on all the lamps during dinner. Conversation was fun and easy like it usually is between all of you. You, Felix and Seungmin played rock, paper, scissors to decide who had to take all the trash to the animal safe bins and by no surprise Felix lost.

The drinks flowed swiftly now. The remaining soju was finished, and everyone ripped into the case of beer Seungmin had brought. There was whining and groaning about fishing in the morning, but Minho held firm that everyone had to participate. As the night dwindled, the games became too much of a hassle and eyes grew sleepy, Felix and Seungmin waved half-hearted goodnights as they dragged their feet to their tent.

You were slightly bent over towards a small faucet coming from the ground, rinsing your hands free of some soap and the remnants of dinner and a Jello candy you had for dessert when you're caught off guard by a voice right behind you -

"Are you going to use all the water from the well?" Minho says just above a whisper- your heart jumps and you stumble forward catching the faucet on your hip falling a swift path to landing on your face.

As your stomach flips at the plummet, you feel yourself stop midair. His hand is holding tight to the top of the back of your shorts while the other quickly finds its way right below your belly button to stop your fall. The fear you had a moment ago all at once turns to relief as you dissolve into laughter.

"What the hell Lino, you scared me! How are you so quiet with all these damn twigs everywhere!" You're still giggling quite loudly as you try to straighten yourself up.

The hand holding your shorts lets go warily, but the one on your stomach holds firm helping you get your balance pulling you back up and closer to him. You did not realize you were still a little tipsy, but it is apparent now as you teeter backwards flat against his chest. Both your hands come up to meet his over your belly as it softens from the adrenaline-fueled laughter.

"Someone still seems a little affected by the drinks tonight." His laugh is low, but you can tell by the way it sounds that he has that mischievous smile on his lips again.

He still hasn't made an effort to let go of you and you're unsure if that's because he's nervous to let you go if you might fall or if he's happy to have the sensation of your body pressed up against his and your hands laid gently over his.

"Let's say we take a night stroll by the river. I promise I'll try my best not to push you in no matter how strong the urge is." He squeezes you a little tighter now before grabbing one of your wrists to turn you around and starts to lead the way, not looking back to witness the flush on your cheeks.

The walk to the river’s edge isn’t far. You stopped at the camp to grab another bottle of water before continuing. The short walk was quiet which was not uncommon with you and Minho. Silence never really bothered either of you when you were together. Usually filled with giggles at whatever anime or new movies you happily dived into. Or silent looks and gestures at food or scenery you enjoyed.

But tonight, you wanted him to talk. Even though he spoke plenty with you and the guys at dinner, it was different when it was just the two of you. His voice had this special edge, and his tone would lilt upwards unlike his more serious voice when around others.

"Thanks for making us hot dogs Lino. Even though they were most certainly sausages and not Ball Park Franks like I'd usually have at home." You skipped up next to him with your hands behind your back pushing playfully into his shoulder.

"I've never heard of them, but they sound unhealthy." He looks over at you one eyebrow raised blinking a few times, "I'm confident these were better." He chuckles softly and pushes back into your shoulder.

The sun had set hours ago but there was a clear view of the moon on the other side of the river giving you the perfect amount of light to see his feline eyes patrolling the ground for large rocks and pointing them out or guiding the both of you around them.

You scoff and turn your head up a little at his diss of your favorite guilty pleasure food, that is admittedly not that healthy.

"Not every meal has to be a perfect balance of nutrition you know. People are allowed to enjoy a little junk food once in a while!" You both laugh again, smiling at each other very well knowing you've made midnight runs to the corner store for ice cream plenty of times together.

"Thanks for bringing me on this trip too. I definitely was not expecting the invite." You say this part a little quieter than the last.

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" His response is quick, his tone is matter of fact.

"I guess I just didn't anticipate it at all." You're looking down at your feet now. He looks over at you, but you don't look up.

"Well now you're sounding ridiculous." He says this one through a huff that could have been a laugh. But for some reason you can’t match it. You're not sure why, but you suspect it has something to do with the knot that's still in your stomach, keeping you tethered to some sort of unspeakable tension.

"Either way, I was surprised. I sort of started feeling like you'd forgotten about me." As soon as you said it you felt foolish. He stops dead in his tracks.

"What made you think that?" His voice sounds more serious now than when he was retorting your statements earlier, with a tone of concern as if he thinks he's done something wrong.

You stop too and turn towards him as your hands come up waving in front of your face with your head shaking back and forth. The bottle in your hand has a tiny bit of water left in it and is making a small sloshing sound as your vigorously waving. He reaches up and grabs it, sliding it into his back pocket; the action is done before you can realize it’s happening.

"I just meant that..." you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you calculate the right words to say how you've been feeling but not too acute that you sound crazy. He's looking at you more intently now as he watches you think. Patiently waiting for your response.

You meet his eyes- "Ever since the last time we hung out, when we went to that cafe, you've been sort of more reserved? I'm not sure if that's the right word or if I'm just imagining things."

Your face is flushed now but you're hoping the cover of night is making it hard to see. He squints his eyes slightly and now you can see the gears in his head turning.

His arms come forward and he crosses them in front of him for a moment; then they fall quickly to his sides, and he puts his hands into the front pockets of his sweats. It’s almost as if he found something particular he wanted to say but decided against it.

"If I'm being honest, I didn't realize I had been acting differently." He picks up his hat off his head, combs his hand through his hair, sets it back down on his head and sticks his hands back in his pockets.

You can see clearly now his brows are furrowed. You reach up and cover your eyes with one hand and rub them with your thumb and middle finger realizing now just how stupid it was for you to bring this up,

"I'm sorry- I didn't mean to make you feel weird." Your hand drops down to see he has a grin back on his face. It's slight and his shoulders are pushed back into a more relaxed position now.

"Nonsense. I'm always weird." His grin widens, curled at the corners more with a small number of teeth showing. It softens when he continues. "But I'm glad you did bring it up because I suppose when I think of it, I have been a little distant and I'm happy to be more aware of it now."

You're not exactly sure what that means but you're too nervous to be direct and ask outright. Is he happy to be aware that he's been distant so he can try to not be? This is the first time in a while you've spoken about something so serious with him so you're unsure how to continue it.

You realize you've been silent for a little longer than anticipated as questions roll around in your head.

Instead of acknowledging his statement out loud you turn and point down the path. "There is a bench up ahead and it’s calling my name."

As you start moving ahead, you hear him chuckle and follow behind you. The air is slightly brisk now. But the heat over your body from the embarrassment of bringing that up makes you wish for a large cool breeze to wash over you.

You reach the bench quickly. It’s made from a log of wood, carved out with an L shape so you can sit and lean back against it. It’s quite small too. Just enough for two people to sit comfortably.

You sit on the farther end pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs as he tosses the water bottle into the trash and sits next to you, legs stretched out in front of him leaning back with his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Ahhhhh" he sighs loudly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath inwards from his nose, his head tilted up at the sky. He looks stunning in this light. His sharp features are softer, more rounded in the low light of the moon. It’s almost as if you're in a black and white film. His eyes stay closed for a moment longer before they open to look at you, looking at him. Your lips press together, turning into a thin line of a barely visible smile.

He quirks one side of his lips up and pulls his hands out of his pockets to clasp them together and place them on his lap.

"So then, what made you decide to come? And don't tell me it was your excitement for fishing because I know that will be a lie," he says with a faux serious look on his face.

A loud laugh bursts from you "You're going to be so mad when I catch the biggest fish out of all of you tomorrow. I know I'm clumsy, but my luck is insurmountable."

You can tell he doesn't deny it by the shake of his head as he returns your laughter. But he doesn't respond, clearly waiting for your real answer. You drop your hands down to your sides and shuffle a bit in your position pulling your legs a little tighter inward towards your body. Thinking back to that initial invitation and the excitement he had when you accepted it, you realize that maybe it's not too serious of a thing to admit that you missed him...

"To be honest, it’s been a while since I had a really good laugh. If feels better when I get to laugh with you instead of at my phone." It's not the whole truth, but it's what you're willing to say at the moment.

"I'm glad I can bring you some relief." He raises his left arm and leans it back on the bench turning his body slightly towards yours. He gives you much more than just relief, but you're not sure how to tell him.

"Well, what made you want to invite me on this trip?" It's time for you to ask the questions.

You look over at him now, keeping your eyes as soft and clear as you can manage despite the craving in your chest to hear certain words come from him, trying desperately not to expect anything. He looks out across the river with a shy smile on his lips and then turns to look you right in the eyes and speaks softly -

"I missed you."

He said it. The thing you were too scared to say. Plain and simple. Your heart stutters a bit as you try not to make a face. Against your wishes your lips part as you take your next breath and then it turns into a smile. He can definitely see the red in your cheeks now because he stares more keenly.

A surge in your stomach flows through you at that moment. Something just clicked and became clear to you that you hadn't noticed before or even thought twice about. How come Seungmin did those things last night?

As far as you can remember, he has never done anything like that before when you we're over at their apartment. Even the times you drifted off to sleep on the couch after staying up too late watching something or talking with Minho. What was different this time?

His last words seem to embolden you for a moment as the next question slips past your lips quicker than you can vet them in your mind. "Did Seungmin do those things last night for a reason?"

Your heart is hammering in your chest now. You really didn't think you'd have the courage to ask that. You went from semi-innocent questions to one with a significant undertone. However he looks a little more nervous than you for a moment.

He chuckles anxiously but you're unsure if it’s at the awkwardness of your question, or at the surprise of what he wants to answer. His pause is drawn out a little longer -

"I told him not to do anything stupid, but you know how he is. When he gets an idea to mess with someone he rarely can be stopped. A while back, he may have figured out something even I wasn't fully conscious of yet."

The implications of his statement are not lost on you. While he's not outright saying what you believe he's thinking, you're quite used to the way he speaks. His eyes search yours; they are a bit darker now, piercing, and you fight desperately not to look away. The tension that has been here all weekend was not in your head.

He tilts his head to the side, still gazing at you like he knows you're lost for words. You've never been good with saying what you mean out loud and he knows this, but he's being patient with you.

"I...." You pause for a moment as you draw in a shaky breath. "Are you saying something has changed?".

Your hand comes up to your mouth as you fiddle with your bottom lip, a nervous habit of yours he knows well. He reaches up and grabs your hand to pull it away from your mouth and down between the two of you. He rubs a small circle over the top of your thumb as he's looking down at them gently clasped together -

"It doesn't have to if you don't want it to," he says in a low voice.

It feels as if your head is spinning. This must be why he was so distant lately. Fighting with his own thoughts on how to speak to you with this new knowledge in his head. You think back to December, when you realized he had started acting a little strange.

"Why did you wait so long to say anything to me?!" It comes as a surprise to you too as the words come out.

His head falls back as he laughs, eyes creasing in the way that reminds you just of how much you adore him. His hand releases yours and moves to grab your ankle pulling your right leg out and across his lap. He trails a hand up your shin and grabs your calf as his head falls back down to look at you.

"I may be incredibly smart and handsome, but I can be an idiot sometimes too." His smile is sly and mischievous again. His words are silly, but you're suddenly snapped back into reality at the feeling of his hand on your skin. A current runs up your leg and straight into the center of your stomach.

Before you let yourself chicken out, you move your other leg out and across his lap turning to face him completely, immediately craving more touch. His arm moves to let you, and finds its way around both your legs, resting his arm across and his hand placed delicately on your knee.

Your hands come down in your lap as you look down at them, twisting a ring around on your finger. Your legs feel heavy like they want to press completely against his strong thighs. Having the courage to move closer still didn't change your nervousness to look into his eyes. Hoping silently that perhaps your body language is answering better than your words can. You’ve thought about this moment a lot. You've danced the words around in your head while speaking with him face to face. But saying them, that was different.

After a long moment, you speak up quietly -

"I would like that."

You hope he knows you are answering his question earlier about things changing between you two. You peek your eyes up at him, slowly raising your head. "For things to change," you say, just in case to clarify.

His eyes are softer now but he's biting his lower lip. Then the corner of his lips sweeps up again,

"Are you sure?" He asks after a beat, like he's letting your words sink around him.

You can feel the tension snap inside of you, and the only way you know how to make him feel what your body has been screaming for, is by showing him.

Your hands come up to his cheeks as you close your eyes and press a soft kiss to his lips, holding there for a moment. His lips are so soft, and you've wanted to kiss them for years. You feel his right hand slide up from your knee to the side of your thigh and squeeze lightly as his other comes up and lands on the back of your neck.

The nerves in your body light on fire. His hand on your neck guides your head to tilt a little and deepen the kiss. Pressing together a few more times, still gently. It feels surreal. You can smell his skin better now; a deep woodsy smell mixed with salt and some of his shampoo from his shower earlier. It's intoxicating and you want to inhale him completely. The mix of his hands on you and the closeness of your bodies kicks off a need in you.

He pulls away and you make a sharp inhale. Your eyes open to see his trained on yours. They are dark and lustful, ones you have never seen before. The look in his eyes feels almost as if he had to pull away and look at you like he needed to check and make sure you were real.

The next kiss is hungrier than the last. He shifts his body over on the bench to get closer to yours, his firm legs now pressing up against the bottom of your thighs closing the gap as far as he can.

He lets out a low "mmmm" at the back of his throat as your lips start moving faster, parting just enough to pull his lip into your mouth and suck softly. Dragging your teeth against his skin, drawing another noise from him.

The sound jolts your body and sends a spark straight down, deep in your center where everything is swirling, moving too fast for your mind to focus on. Your hands release from his face and slide down to his shoulders, running over his defined muscles, stopping to feel them, then wrapping around his neck and locking him in.

You can feel the vulnerable apprehension of your kisses as the speed continues to pick up. You want to taste him more. It feels like you should have been doing this forever. His hands let go of your face and neck, then are instantly at your hips. Clutching tightly. You shiver and your lips disconnect again.

"Come here." He says through a soft grin as he pulls you up and over him easily. Your legs spread over him until your knees are on either side and your ass is resting perfectly on his lap. It's very apparent now that he's starting to harden in his sweats. You press down against him, rolling your hips cautiously so you can feel him more, straddling his perfect frame.

His hands find your hips again as he grabs you, holding you down against him as his head falls back and lets out an excited sigh. You can't help but smile and delight in the way he looks crazed already.

"Why did it take so long for me to tell you?" He laughs as he leans back in to kiss you. This time, he dips his tongue out of his mouth and into yours. You moan as he swirls the muscle around in your mouth and you reciprocate. Languidly, taking your time to taste him.

You pull away after a minute, breathless and filled with desire- "I'm not sure, but I don't want to wait anymore."

He looks up at you and presses a hand to your cheek as he watches your eyes, hazy, filled with lust and staring at his lips. His thumb rubs back and forth on your cheek, "Should we go back to the tent?" He looks carefully at you waiting until your eyes meet his.

"Please." And you nod a few times. It's all the confirmation he needs before he stands up, holding you, wrapping your legs around him and starting to walk back the way you came.

His steps back start very fast. His hands grabbing your thighs tightly as they're wrapped around his waist. Your kisses had only just begun, and you don’t want to stop now. Your arms locked around his neck, pressing your lips to his over and over trying your best to line them up despite the awkward angle.

His right arm wraps itself around your back as his left holds you up by your ass. His steps slow as he pulls his head back and chuckles, "Despite not wanting to let go of you, If I don't put you down, I will likely trip and we will both go into the water."

He stops completely, attempting to let you down. Your legs tighten around him as you tilt his head back for another kiss; you finally have the right angle, passionate, pushing your tongue past his lips to taste him again.

Your tongues dance around each other, testing movements and finding a perfect rhythm. He moans as you pull on his bottom lip again, giving you confirmation that he likes it as much as you like doing it; there’s a small popping noise as you pull away.

"That's fair. Only because I know I'd have to rescue you, and I'm not sure I am strong enough." You giggle as you release your legs and connect your lips to his again. Not letting go from the kiss even as your feet are planted on the ground.

You step back and sigh, a little breathless from how hungry you were feeling in the moment. Everything is moving so fast your mind hasn't really taken a second to think about anything other than him. It all felt so natural, like it was meant to happen. Alone in nature, with your favorite person, mixing both your needs and wants together in a swirl of excitement.

He turns you around and gently but firmly slaps your ass to get you moving.

"I've spent years staring at your perfect ass. I need to see it without clothes on soon or I might die". He walks up next to you and puts his arm around your waist fiddling with the hem of your shirt, sending small shivers up your spine, guiding you quicker towards the camp.

Years?

"How long have you known?" You ask as you glance over at him.

"It's always been there." He's looking forward in contemplation.

"Well you said something changed. I guess... what was it?"

He takes a deep breath as he arranges his thoughts. His hand moving around your lower back in small circles as if he's grounding himself to you.

"I'm not sure anything changed really. I think it just became clearer." His hand moves again and closes around the base of your neck, possessively. You shudder a bit at how soft but strong his hands are, trying not to show how much that simple act turned you on.

"I started realizing things like how your voice made me feel. Like how it calms me when I'm feeling stressed- or how you match my energy when I'm excited about something. My thoughts became deeper, and it just clicked. I was nervous for a while, to mess things up between us, but I knew I didn't want you as 'just a friend' anymore."

Your belly whirls in warmth as you hear the words. You pull them apart in your mind. Embedding them into your memory. Then, your feelings quickly build in a vortex of restlessness seeing the path open to your campsite. You've had enough talking and you need him. Now.

He lowers his arm and strides in front of you a little bit to get to the tent, pulling the Velcro apart slowly, trying not to be too loud. You register quite quickly that his roommate’s tent isn't exactly next to yours, but still close enough that they could potentially hear you. You make a mental note of that as he holds a side open for you to step into your tent.

Hear you? Oh god, is this really happening?

His smile is playful, and his eyes are following you as you kick your sandals off and move past him through the opening.

The second you make it to the middle of the tent it becomes all too real what's about to happen. What you desperately want to happen. Your stomach tightens and your breath quickens as a panic fills your body mixed with anticipation.

But before the feeling takes over, you feel him pressed up behind you again, one hand is on your stomach and the other runs from one side of your collarbones to the other, then slowly up your neck, to your chin, guiding your head to the side to kiss him over your shoulder.

Your breath trembles but your body relaxes against his, immediately settling into his touch- bringing all those feelings down your body, tingling in your fingertips and building in your core. He held you like this earlier, but this time it was different.

Your lips move together as his hand leaves your chin, back down your neck to your chest where it slips beneath the top of your shirt and over your shoulder, the inner corner of his elbow around your neck.

You instinctively reach up to grab his arm feeling completely encompassed by him, running your fingers over his toned muscles. A short high-pitched whine escapes your mouth as his other hand slips under the bottom of your shirt placing his firm hand on your bare stomach.

"Your skin is so soft... I want to taste every inch of it..." He breathes out between you.

A chill runs down your spine at his low voice- as his lips come away from yours and smooth against your neck. Your head falls back onto his shoulder giving him better access as you moan quietly from the sensation.

Your back arches and your ass grinds back into his cock where you can feel it straining against his sweats. He moves his lips back and forth, teasing the skin, giving you goosebumps, then starts taking small bites and placing kisses anywhere his mouth can reach.

He leads the two of you forward, lips not leaving your neck, taking small steps towards the bottom end of the bed. As you reach it, his hands come back down to your waist and slowly turns you around.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you're face to face with him, his eyes are filled with desire, almost closed, with his mouth open slightly breathing deeply.

"You can," you reach out and put your hands on his chest, kissing him again. " You can taste it... you can have all of it..." Your words are whispers as you kiss him deeply. Making sure he feels your words, tastes the ache your body has for him.

You assume he receives it because his hands are pulling at your shirt now, asking to lift it up over your arms. You stick them up as you let him pull his old t-shirt up and over your head and onto a pillow on the bed. Your bra is still there, hiding what you know he wants to see. You feel a little shy for a moment, then pull it up and off, revealing your round full breasts for him.

"Fuck..." he says under his breath; then almost as if he senses your shyness at being topless in front of him, he yanks his shirt off over his head and presses your bodies together wrapping one arm around your back, leaning forward, pushing you slowly back onto the bed to lay on top of you.

He kisses you delicately now, like he's savoring the moment, lips coming together for soft pecks. Then moves to your cheek, down your neck, stopping first at the soft spot just below your jaw, shifting his body to start going lower. The way he's laying on you, fitting between your open legs so perfectly, you can't help but wrap them around him. You know he can feel the heat coming from your lower half.

He continues down your chest, kissing softly and tracing his hands down your sides. He takes his time with his mouth on each breast, starting on one, kissing the peak of your now very hard nipples, then swirling his tongue around and finally pulling them into his mouth- eyes closed, like he's truly relishing the taste of your skin. Your mouth parts and faint moans fall from you- shuddering every time he gently bites your nipples.

You've never felt your heartbeat so fast before, feeling like you may not even make it out of this alive at the rate your body reacts to his every touch. His hands come up and graze over your arms that lie flat against the bed as he continues his path of kisses down onto your stomach. Then they’re quickly at your waist pulling your body down, positioning your ass is at the edge of the bed. You gasp at the sudden movement, realizing what he wants to do.

"Lino..." your voice comes out in a whine as your eyes pinch shut for a second, body racing at just the thought of him between your legs.

"Hrmmm?" he hums out, his eyes not leaving your frame, hands tracing over every part of open skin he can come in contact with. You can’t form words to answer back, instead just squirming under his touch.

"May I take these off?" His hands cusp around the top of your jean shorts, one of his thumbs playing with the button as he looks up at you for confirmation. You lock eyes for the first time in a few minutes; he looks crazed but calm. You nod your head and lift from the bed slightly so he can unbutton and pull them off easier, down your legs and he tosses them towards your luggage.

You giggle a little as your shorts hit the pile - "So you can do that, but I can't?" Your voice is teasing but low.

He huffs and waves a hand "We'll talk about that later, right now I need you to do something for me."

You sit up on your elbows looking at him confused, his brows are bunched up and he licks his lips -

"I really need you to turn over so I can see your ass in these lace panties before I rip them off."

Your head tilts back as you laugh at how incredibly serious his face is with that statement, but quickly comply and roll over onto your stomach so he can get a clear view. You've always been proud of the shape and size of your ass. Never skipping squats when working out but never going too far so it stays soft and plump.

You hear him suck in a breath, hissing between his teeth as his hands come down to caress your cheeks. His thumbs go under the creases as he kneads into your soft skin getting as much of a handful his hands can allow. He pushes up with his palms and spreads your cheeks getting a clear view of how much you've soaked through your panties. Another sound escapes him, like he was holding his breath and blows the air out slowly.

You smirk at his intensity and wiggle your ass back and forth a little. A quick smack comes down on your right cheek that punches out a breath from you.

"mmmm...ohmygod" you purr out.

His hand quickly soothes over where he made the connection. "I had a feeling you'd like that." You can tell in his voice he's saying this through a smile.

Both of his hands slide up your back, then down to your ass, sliding flat up under your panties pulling them tight against your pussy, grabbing firmly now on your soft flesh. You're surprised by the cool, yet warm sensation of his lips followed immediately by a bite. You yelp quietly but intuitively push yourself into him more. He continues licking and biting each cheek, letting out soft grunting noises like he's a man starved who hasn't eaten in weeks.

His movements slow, lips trail down to where your panties are pulled tight against you, stopping right as he gets to the center. His hands push your legs apart slightly and lets out a breath, so warm against your aching skin. Your brain short circuits when you feel the first contact of his lips pressing a soft unrushed kiss on the fabric right over your clit leaving himself there for a moment. He pulls away and kisses again, with more pressure.

"Lino, please," you whine, your voice cracking a little.

*smack*

Another swift slap comes down, this time on your other cheek. Leaving no time for you to react he's yanking your panties down your legs and off you, before effortlessly turning you over. You're laying breathless for a moment, gathering yourself.

"Do you know how long I've been wanting to do this," his lips meet your right thigh, trailing kisses up towards your center and propping your leg over his shoulder. "There will be no rushing through this."

He pushes your left leg out, opening you further for him and you're instantly aware that you are lying completely naked, spread out, in front of the man you've longed for all these years.

He takes his time tracing lines on your left thigh with his fingers while kissing your right until he's planting them right around exactly where you need him to be. You can hear his breath deepen for a moment, then licks a stripe from the bottom of your pussy up to the top and pulls your clit between his plush lips and sucks.

The moan that escapes you is loud. Your hands grip the blanket as your body is already crumbling from his mouth. His tongue drags along you again dipping into your center to taste all the wetness he's created from this antagonizing slow pace he's controlling. He hums in appreciation and starts to circle around your clit with his tongue with the most perfect amount of pressure.

He's always been pretty in tune with you from the get-go. But the way he seems to know what to do, what your body wants, is thrilling to you. You squirm and push against him, vying for some sort of control as you feel yourself getting hazy.

He carries on his work, expertly lapping at you and pulling you into his mouth to suck and swirl his tongue around. You prop yourself up on your elbows not wanting to miss the sight of him between your legs. His eyes are closed, seemingly peaceful, despite the ravening way his mouth and head are moving to do exactly what he said he wanted and taste all of you.

Your eyes flutter as a familiar sensation builds up in your body, but you force them to stay open looking down at the insane sight of the most beautiful man enjoying you. His eyes open as he hears your breath quicken. You lock eyes with his and your head spins, the muscles in your legs tightening. His eyes crease as he steadies to slowly trail his tongue up and down you again.

For a moment you're confused, your brows furrow and a whine escapes you. He giggles, then moves his right hand up to your face, bringing his middle and pointer finger together, touching your lips softly, staring intently at them. His tongue doesn't stop moving as he pushes his fingers past your lips, and you dutifully take them in your mouth, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around.

"Mmmm," you hum around his fingers, aware that you've been receiving so much pleasure from him and haven't even started giving him any.

He pulls his head up a little farther to better see your mouth around his fingers. His lips part slowly as he watches you - eyes closed giving his fingers all you can to show him how ready you are for your turn.

His mouth connects to your clit again with more fervor as he brings his now slick fingers down to your entrance. His eyes trained on you, he slowly teases you with the tips of his fingers watching your body and your face as you writhe on the bed. Then before you can get used to the idea of his fingers being down there, he slides them in.

Your head rolls back, and a long breathy moan leaves you followed by a quick breath in. If you were close earlier, you’re quite literally on the edge now.

He feels you clenching around him, your body reacting strongly to every one of his licks, sucks, the curls of his fingers and touches of his other hand on your body, gripping the flesh on your thigh.

"God, you look so beautiful," he says breathy while continuing his work.

Your moans are louder now and for a moment, with his words in your ears, you don't care. But as he continues to put more pressure on a particular spot within you, your whine almost becomes a yell, you quickly bring your hand up to cover your mouth as your start to fall from the edge. He's still staring at you but with soft eyes now, like he really means what he said.

The feeling crashes over you, rippling through your body fast as his fingers and mouth keep pace to help you through it, lips not leaving you once. It undulates through you, taking all the burning from your shoulders, down through your spine, exploding down your center all the way to the tip of your toes leaving a trail, hot in its place. Your arms give out and you fall back on the bed. He slows his movements, letting you ride it out, then sensing your sensitivity, presses slow soft kisses around and on your center removing his fingers.

"Fuck..." you say under your breath as your try to regulate the speed of your heaving chest, ripples still making their way through your body. Legs twitching as he soothes circles on your thighs.

He chuckles and stands up over you between your still open legs, leaning down on his hands to watch you gasp for air. His eyes are squinted, and his lips are curled up into a satisfied grin watching you with what looks like amusement on his face.

He leans in and whispers in your ear, "I'd gladly do that every day if you'd let me."

Your eyes finally fix on his and you can't help but giggle a bit at your euphoric feeling. His legs start to move forward, pressing into your thighs, pushing your legs and body up farther on the bed. Before he settles down on his knees reaching down for a kiss, you put your hands up to his chest stopping him.

He tilts his head inquisitively and it’s your turn to smirk. You lift yourself up on the bed to sit upright, legs still spread around him, pushing him down on his heels between you and taking his mouth in another heated kiss.

His lips are soft and slick and feel puffy from all his hard work. You kiss them gently as your hands trail down his chest to his stomach right to the hem of his grey sweats.

His hands come up to trace your sides and then find their place on the side of your breasts thumbing your nipples softly and palming at the smooth skin. A moan hits the back of your throat between your kisses, and you pull back to look up at him, tugging on his sweats for permission to pull them down.

You've spent a lot of time looking at Minho since you've known him. You've seen him without a shirt on before once or twice, albeit briefly. But never in this context - and the way he looks now, in the low lamp light from the corner of the room, looking down at you with a blaze in his eyes and his chest rising and falling in anticipation. You're certain he is the most stunning creature to walk this planet.

He must have seen the reverence in your eyes because he reaches out to push a piece of hair behind your ear and smiles sweetly at you. You have to remind yourself of the task at hand before you get lost appreciating him. You trail your eyes back down to the now extremely noticeable bulge in his pants.

You lick your lips, "May I?" As you go back to tugging on his sweats, mimicking what he asked you earlier.

He laughs, "You may."

You pull them down along with his boxers, freeing his cock from its strain. It bounces heavily right in front of your face, and you swallow eagerly. It shouldn't be a shock to you how pretty it is. The skin looks like velvet, soft pink and perfectly adorned with a few veins tracing the sides creating perfect patterns for you to touch. His length perfect, his thickness mirroring his thighs. You wrap your hand around the base and squeeze.

His body tenses and he sucks in a hiss as you lick his tip, savoring his flavor with your eyes closed, rolling your tongue around in your mouth. You look up at him with big eyes as you wrap your lips around him embracing his warmth on your tongue.

You start slow just as he did with you. Bobbing your head on his tip, whirling your tongue around - appreciating the feeling of his now fully hard cock in your hand. His head falls back for a moment when you take him further then quickly snaps back to watch you. Your eyes crease as you see the haze in his eyes as his hand comes forward to find its rightful place at the back of your neck.

Your stomach flutters at the feeling which drives you to relax your throat and take him as far as you can, only stopping when your breathing is cut off, but you stay and swallow a few times eliciting a deep groan from him. A sound you're sure you've never heard before but crave to hear again.

Pulling back, you take another deep breath, using the slick you've created on him to twist your hand up and down his length, following with your mouth moving your head side to side.

After a while of creating a pace and soaking in all the beautiful moans and gasps coming from his lips, you break it suddenly, thrusting him down your throat to the base again and stopping to look up at him. His lips are almost in a snarl, his teeth gritted, chest heaving. For the first time all night he says your name; not the cute nickname you pretend to hate but fold inwards on yourself every time he speaks it. Your real name, coming out in the most lustful moan.

He pulls your head back with his strong grip on your neck, slowing his breathing, and relaxing his face, looking at you with fire in his eyes.

"You have no idea how crazy you make me feel," he lets out a long shuddering sigh.

"If you don't stop now, I'm not going to last."

Your hand grips his base a little tighter while still holding his gaze, he shakes his head and lets out a weak laugh with a smile on his lips.

"Then you better push me back on this bed, because I don't want to stop," you stick your tongue out and quickly swipe his tip.

You can see his vision go blurry for a second then his attention snaps back, reaching his hands down to your thighs gripping them and pulling them off the bed, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck to steady yourself, as he hoists you up towards the pillow in a flash.

You land on your back surprised but with a smile adorning your face. He steps off the bed and lets his sweats fall to the floor stepping out of them, powerful legs on full display for you. He drops his hand and lazily strokes himself while looking at you on the bed, his eyes all over your body, like he's making a map of it in his mind. Committing every detail to memory.

A mischievous look comes over his face again as he slowly takes a few steps over towards his bag, where you know he slipped the box of condoms in from last night.

"Wait," you squeak out, fast but quiet.

He turns to you with questioning eyes.

"If you don't mind... we can go without. I'm clean." Your eyes fall down a little. "I really want to feel you..." You take a breath and glance back up at him through your eyelashes.

His eyes are soft but serious, and you can see a hint of thrill in them.

"Are you sure?" He asks raising an eyebrow.

Your eyes roll back softly, still with a smile on your face as you sigh, mildly annoyed at his competence in always making sure things are above water and safe. You raise your arm and tap your bicep a few times hoping he gets what that means,

"For fucks sake Lee Minho, yes, I'm sure. Please get over here before I scream," and you flop back against the pillow.

He chuckles softly but wastes no time, practically jumping on the bed between your thighs, plastering himself against the front of your body. Your lips meet again, and he cages you in with his forearms on both sides of your head. You share a few giggles between kisses as you shake off your declaration becoming aware of his weight pouring over you.

He's leaning over you, pressed against you so fiercely, you can feel his cock throbbing against you and your attention quickly pulls to your core. Your heart begins thumping in your chest again and you shudder when he does a tentative roll of his hips, sliding his cock along your wetness. Your lips fall from his as you suck in air. Breathing deep in the stillness of the moment.

He lets his lips trace your jaw, up to your ear and hums before nibbling right below it, still rolling his hip leisurely.

"I've watched your body from afar for so long." He licks your neck raising goosebumps over your arms.

"The way your hair falls delicately on your shoulders." He kisses you there earning a soft moan from you.

"How you always wear the most perfect fitting jeans to show off your curves." He bites into your lower neck sending a ripple through you.

"Your perfect lips saying my name." He kisses you so delicately on your lips that you think you might cry.

"And now your here, under me, and I never want to lose this." He kisses you with more heat and you have never felt more whole, more alive, with sparks coursing through your body, his words filling every crack and fiber of your being.

"Minho..." His name is a whisper between your kisses, and you feel him reach down a hand. He softly rubs the tip of his cock from the bottom up, spreading your wetness around and massaging your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat in anticipation as he captures your mouth in another kiss. Drowning your thoughts.

He pulls away from the kiss and settles his piercing gaze, looking into your eyes as he lines up with your entrance and slowly pushes in. Nothing could have prepared you for how good it feels. His tip pressing in slowly, filling your warmth and stretching you out so perfectly. The intimacy of the moment and his words still lingering in your ears makes your eyes shut, mouth parting as your arms wrap around his waist.

He bottoms out and stays there. All you can hear is both of your breath, lingering in the space between you. Soaking in the feeling of the moment. It feels like pure bliss. But you need more. You clench around him and his breathing stutters for a moment. You open your eyes to see him looking at you with a beautiful half smile on his face.

You smile back and kiss him, gripping his waist urging him to move. He starts to roll his hips in slow drawn-out circles, hitting every space, every inch within you. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly the knot in your stomach tightens, as he finds a steady rhythm, angling his thrust to hit the right spot. Those damn dancers’ hips.

You've been dreaming of this for so long. And now he's here, in your arms, between your legs and inside of you and everything feels right for the first time in forever. You want to take your time, but your body is a traitor and desperate for more. Moving your hips now to meet his thrust, he leans over on one elbow, using his free hand to roam over your body, grabbing at any and all of your skin, picking up his pace.

It seems as though he senses your impatience, because he readjusts, sitting up on his knees more while his hands come down to your hips to pin you to the bed. You had been cautious of your volume for so long now but the sound that escapes you in that moment is inevitable. You reach up to cover your mouth hoping to quell any more sounds, but he quickly pulls it away and pushes it up above your head.

"No, don't be quiet. I need to hear your every sound. Whoever else hears it, had it coming." His concentration is fierce as he says those words to you, making your stomach coil in heat, head rushing, and whimpers fall from your lips.

You’re certain you’ll be slightly embarrassed tomorrow, but your mind quickly pushes those thoughts aside as your need to give him what he wants overpowers everything else. Your moans grow louder, and your repeating his name through choked out breaths. Your hand that's not secured under his tight grip, finds its way to his arm that's now caressing your thigh to trace his skin.

He looks devastatingly elegant yet rugged above you. Chest heaving, eyes trained down towards where you meet in the middle. Where he’s driving into you, straight towards absolute pleasure. He looks up at you eyeing him, licks his lips, and a sly smile paints his features. As if it were even possible, he pushes up closer against you, using his arm to hook under your knee angling your body even more to hit the most perfect spot over and over again.

A wildfire courses through your veins as your eyes roll back, clenching around him again, quickly approaching your release. You can hear his breathing becoming a little more erratic as his hips stutter a few times giving you the knowledge that he’s not far behind. You use your free hand to grab his arm that's holding yours down and pry it away licking and sucking on his fingers quickly before guiding them down between your bodies.

"Touch me," you ask softly.

You can see the wild excitement in his eyes as he starts rubbing your clit in perfect circles with determination. It doesn’t take long before you’re gripping the sheets tightly beside you, arching your back, ready for the wave to crash over you. He sucks in a deep breath hearing you let out a sinful moan as you’re shaking under him and your second ripple of pleasure streaks down your body.

Your legs try to move and tighten him in a vice grip once the over sensitiveness snakes through your thighs, but his hands are quick to act. He slides both his hands up the back of your legs landing in the crook of your knees and pushing them forward towards your chest. Your breath is pushed out of you once his weight is pressed firmly against your front with forearms flat on the bed, caging you in.

His eyes have never looked more powerful, almost as if he's looking straight into the most secret, venerable part of yourself that you didn't even know existed. His mouth parts and his hot breath only feeds your desire to have him closer, stomach still fluttering in the aftershock. Wiggling your arms free you reach out and caress his face, tracing his bottom lip with your thumb before pulling it into your mouth, humming at his delicious sounds and taste.

"Fuck, I'm..." he mumbles into your mouth, but you don't give him a chance to finish his sentence.

"I know. I want it. I want it so bad, please." You lick into his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck- feeding your fingers through his hair, gripping him as close as you can. You feel his body tense and eyes go wide at your statement and he's gone. Hissing through his teeth, he picks up pace; his head buried in your neck, teeth latching on for a moment followed by the deepest groan that vibrates through your body.

His warmth radiates through you, pushing himself as deep as he can with each slowing pump, hips flush with your ass as he softly trembles through his release. You slip your hands down his back rubbing soft circles and scratching ever so gently as he pants in your ear.

His hands find your legs again as he guides them down and secures them around his waist, still seated deep within you. Your breathing and heartbeats are still settling together as he turns his head to look at you -

"That was, " he huffs out a few low laughs as a smile forms on his lips, and he kisses your jaw, "I don't think words can describe it." He kisses the side of your lips and neck a few more times as he leans up on one elbow, placing a hand on your waist.

A sense of shyness briefly floods you as you turn your head to the side and cover your lips with the tips of your fingers, blushing slightly. He reaches up and pulls your fingers from your mouth, kissing them lightly. You can see adoration in his eyes as he takes in the pink that has flushed over your cheeks and chest.

"That was long overdue." Your smile is relaxed. Your eyes soft on his. You take your fingers locked with his back towards your mouth and repay the soft kisses.

He looks down between the two of you. Wrapped together, sticking sweetly at the skin touching, and slowly starts to pull his body from yours. As he disconnects from you, a shiver runs down your spine at the lack of contact and he rubs your legs while getting up from the bed.

Once again, you're amazed at his silhouette gracefully making his way over to the wooden shelf, grabbing some wipes and a towel.

Your body lays still for him as he delicately cleans you; tracing your finger tip up and down from your navel to your collarbones, eyes closed, basking in the sweet afterglow of the moment. An hours ago, your thoughts were racing, so many uncertainties in the air. Skin prickling anxiety at unsaid feelings and questions floating behind your eyes. But now that comfortable silence sits in the air between you again.

"Scootch," he giggles, as he jostles you to the side with his knee; he pulls the covers out from under you, climbs in and settles them up over the two of you. He reaches out and nestles you in close, your arms pushed up between your chests, face pressed to the column of his neck. You take a deep breath of him, feeling the sudden weight of sleep and the day settle over your skin.

"Don't keep things from me anymore, ok?" Your mouth is in a straight line, slightly pouted, but your eyes are round and playful as you look up at him.

His face is soft, and you can see a hint of mischief behind his eyes before he closes them, kisses your nose and speaks low but just loud enough for you to hear -

"You're stuck with me now. I'm never letting go."

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #kpop fanfic #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #lee know x female reader #lee know fanfic #lee minho fanfic #stray kids fanfic

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eternalbuckley · 4 days

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Together. — aemond targaryen

SUMMARY: Aemond and you still love each other even if you weren't together anymore. So what happens if you're hanging out with your shared group friends and he invites you to a drink in his apartment? You might end up tangled with each other in his bed and talk about your feelings the next morning.

word count: 5,658

genre: slight angst with fluff, smut with plot | afab!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings/tropes: modern au, 18+ MDNI!! NSFW (this part is divided with dividers so you can skip the actual smut part if you want), p in v sex, no use of protection (wrap it up folks thanks), cunnilingus, creampie (again, use protection), descriptions of alcohol use, mention of tipsy reader and aemond, slight cursing, use of they pronoun once, english is not my first language, slightly proofread — if I forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: it's my first time writing p in v smut, so please bear with me, i'm still trying to figure it out! this entire fanfic turned out to be the longest piece i've ever written lmao.i hope you'll enjoy it <3 reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and highly welcomed!

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

18+ MDNI divider by cafekitsune

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The breakup between Aemond and you was mutually decided. Both of you were quite busy with your jobs and barely had time for each other anymore, which ended in a lot of arguments. Many of them were based on miscommunication or if anyone of you felt like the other one wasn’t giving them enough attention and love. This was the reason why you both mutually decided to break up after you’ve been together for a few years, both of you thinking it was the best decision during this time.

You still loved and cared for each other, but it wasn’t the right time to be with each other, as each one of you had a stressful period of your life, and the constant arguments outweighed most of the soft moments between you. You tried to be each other’s support, but it ended up in the opposite way during this time. It was clear, to everyone who knew you, that you two were still longing for each other over the months since you broke up. You tried dating other people in hopes you could fill the void that has been there ever since you parted ways, but it didn’t work out for either of you.

Aemond and you shared the same group of friends, or at least shared a few friends that hang out together every two to three weeks. Two times you and Aemond invited the people you were seeing to hang out with your friends. Meaning you and him would see each other as well. This didn’t work out quite well because the people you were seeing noticed how you and Aemond constantly looked in each other’s direction. They quickly realized that neither Aemond nor you stopped loving one another or knew that you still had some sort of feelings for the other one, even if you both tried to ignore or deny it, you knew the truth.

Your friends noticed this longing dynamic between you two ever since you told them that you decided to part ways for now. No one could say that they didn’t see the longing stares both of you had whenever the other one wasn’t looking, or the gentle touches you had on each other from time to time that were just lingering quite too long for friends.

Many times, Aemond would ask his sister, Helaena, who was one of your closest friends, if you had already found someone else or how you were doing. Especially if he noticed that you seemed off one day you and your friends hung out, he’d immediately try to find a moment to get to text or talk to Helaena alone and ask her about it. If she was able to tell him something, she would give him a few details. And you would do the same if you noticed something different about him and asked Helaena most of the time. Sometimes you would go to Aegon, in hopes that he hopefully might know something. It would depend on the situation. It was hard to ignore or deny that you two still deeply cared about each other.

Both of you were currently hanging out with your friends again, sitting next to Helaena and having your legs over hers as you laughed with her. Watching the boys as they turned on the fire of the campfire. Aemond sat opposite from you and Helaena and tried not to look over at you too much and to focus more on the conversation he had with one of your friends. It was a cozy and quiet night; everyone was having a good time. Helaena excused herself for a moment to get herself another drink as you took a swig from your own bottle. You noticed how she slightly nodded in Aemond’s direction as she went back into the kitchen of the house. A few seconds later, you saw how he slowly walked over to you.

“Can I sit down?” He asked with a soft tone in his voice and motioned to the seat next to you. You looked up to him and nodded, slightly scooting to the side to make more room for him to sit down. Your arms brushed against one another as he sat down next to you, sending a slight shiver down your spine, but you tried to play it down and didn’t pay attention to it.

You took another swig from your bottle, even if it was almost empty. You could have gotten up to get another bottle, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment with Aemond. You haven’t really had any conversations with him in the past few weeks, only having your eyes on each other. It was quite a comfortable atmosphere between you, as you watched the fire and listened to its crackles, but he had his eyes on you, admiring you as the fire cast a beautiful light on your face. He reached out and removed something from your hair, causing you to look at him for a moment, slightly confused. But in the short moment his fingers brushed over your hair sent a warmth through your body.

“It was just a tiny bug,” he tried to keep his voice low. Your lips turned into a small smile, “Thank you.”

Neither of you really knew what to say, you wanted to have a conversation with him, but you didn’t quite know what you could talk about. You could have asked him about his life, what he was up to at the moment, but you weren’t sure if he was even ready to talk about it.

As you wanted to ask something he got pulled away by Aegon. “Sorry, my lady,” he had his hands on Aemond’s shoulders and grinned, “I need my brother for a moment! He will be back at your service in a moment,” he giggled, clearly drunk as he dragged Aemond away.

You sighed with a smile on your lips and didn’t stop him, sometimes it was hilarious when Aegon was drunk. Occasionally, you wished things were different, but it was what you and Aemond had decided, so you must stick with it. You slowly nodded to yourself and got into the house to get another bottle, joining Helaena and completely missing the way Aemond longingly looked over to you as his brother talked his ear off.

A few hours later, you were talking with Helaena again, sitting together with Aemond on a bench in front of the campfire. He sat next to you, and you felt the warmth of the flames and his body, it was a pleasant feeling that filled you. His arm was resting behind you on the backrest of the bench you were sitting on. Helaena left you and Aemond alone for a moment after she had finished her story.

When she left, he slightly leaned into you and whispered into your ear, his voice casual. “Would you mind joining me for a drink back in my apartment?” He was nervous about how you would react. He already expected that you would refuse him, but he raised his eyebrows for a short moment as you accepted his invitation. Aemond cleared his throat and nodded, happy that you said yes.

A few minutes later you and him said your goodbyes to your friends. Helaena had a smirk on her lips as she hugged you. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do with my partner, babe,” she teased you and whispered into your ear.

He was slightly nervous as he led you to his car and opened the passenger side for you. You occasionally looked at each other during the drive to his apartment but didn’t really talk with each other, perhaps both of you were too nervous?

One drink turned into two, and two into three. Both of you were slightly tipsy by now and were talking with each other as if nothing had ever happened. You sat next to each other on his couch, and he had one arm on the backrest, resting behind your head. Your legs were slightly bent in his direction. You noticed the way he looked down at them sometimes, and you wished he’d just grab them, but both of you knew that neither of you would dare to cross the line without completely knowing if the other one wanted it too. But you both wanted it deeply. The conversation died down between you a few minutes ago, you’ve just looked at each other. The air had already been thick before, but it was getting worse in that very moment. You found yourself looking down on his lips, and he did too. Both of you leaned into each other but stopped when you were only a few movements away from each other’s faces. Should you really give in to what you’ve wanted ever since you broke up all these months ago or not?

You felt his breath on your face and just wanted to give in, you wanted to feel his lips on yours so badly. You could swear you stopped breathing when he carefully brushed your hair out of your face and cupped your cheek, you leaned into his touch and held his gaze.

“Aemond…” You dared to break the silence with a shaky whisper. You craved his touch, as much as he craved yours. Your lips were parted as your gaze went down to his lips.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want it,” he looked up from your lips into your eyes to find any hesitance, but he saw the way your pupils dilated as he held your gaze again. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered eagerly and hummed as he immediately captured your lips in a passionate and desperate kiss. Both of your tensed shoulders relaxed eventually,

His hand still cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb, your hand found his cheeks immediately and pulled him into you, while his other arm, which was resting on the backrest of his couch, wrapped around your waist to pull you into his lap. You straddled him and deepened the kiss as both of you opened your mouth to feel each other’s tongue, completely losing yourselves in the kiss. It’s what you’ve both been craving, and neither of you wanted to stop the moment. You didn’t want to think of the possible outcome or how it would change the current dynamic between you two, maybe you would find your way back to each other or it wouldn’t change a thing. Maybe it would just stay at making out with each other, but both of you wanted and needed more.

He missed to feel your skin against his, the way your curves felt when he traced them. The way you’d always react to his touch, arching your back whenever his hand found its way between your thighs. The way you always reacted to his kisses, whether it was a more heated or soft and slow kiss. You loved each of them, and so did he. Aemond loved the way your hands felt on his skin, the way you’d always end up tracing his arms, hands or face whenever you cuddled or were next to each other. He appreciated and missed these moments with you. It may only have been a few months since you two broke up, but the more intimate moments between you had been missing way before you eventually parted ways.

Both of you slowly pulled away from each other, faces still close as you spoke against his lips. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” You whispered, your voice slightly raspy from the lack of air in your lungs. Both of his hands had found their way to your hips and gently circled his fingers on your clothed skin, squeezing your skin.

He nodded. “I… I just need you, darling. I’m sure,” his voice was low and raspy as well. His good eye filled with desire as you looked at him and kissed him again. “Me too,” you whispered between kisses.

Aemond lifted you by gripping down on your thighs and placed you underneath him on the couch. He pulled away from you with a cheeky smile and kneeled in front of you as he pulled you on the edge of his couch. His hands roamed over your thighs to the button of your pants. Aemond looked up to you, slightly asking if he could continue. You nodded and didn’t break eye contact with him as he slowly opened the button of your pants and motioned for you to lift your hips so he could pull off your pants. His gaze never left yours, and he noticed the way you had your lower lip between your teeth as you lifted your hips eagerly, knowing what would follow. His fingers gently traced over your now exposed skin. His lips found the skin of your hip bone, which was still covered only seconds ago. His eye closed for a moment to capture this moment in his mind.

He pressed open kisses on your covered and uncovered skin, “I missed this so much,” he mumbled as he firmly but also gently gripped down your thighs while looking up at you again, silently asking if he could part your legs. You slightly sat up and parted them, causing him to smirk and move between them. His hands brushed over the flesh of your thighs and caressed them as he slowly moved them up to brush over your panties. Your breath hitched as he brushed over your still-clothed heat.

“Please, Aemond,” you whimpered as he teased your clothed clit with his finger while a smirk was on his lips. You hated how desperate you were for him, but you finally needed to feel him again. In every way you could have him. “Don’t tease me now.”

“Very well,” he hooked his fingers with the fabric of your panties on your hips and slowly pulled them down. You lifted your hips again, so it was easier for him to take your panties off.

A soft hum left his lips as soon as he tossed your panties away and saw your already glistening heat. He leaned down and pressed more kisses on the area of your heat, but not where you needed him. It frustrated you, and that made him chuckle. He always used to love to tease you, but he knew it wasn’t the perfect time for that right now, as it only tortured him as well. He couldn’t wait any longer and just wanted to get his mouth on you, his growing bulge in his pants could wait for a few moments. He wanted to give you the pleasure first. A moan left your lips as soon as he pressed his lips on your clit and made eye contact with you again. Aemond took a long drag through your slit with his tongue, your mouth stayed slightly open. He groaned into you as you grabbed one of his hands that were still on your thighs and held on to him as he devoured your cunt. He missed those pretty sounds that left your lips, especially how you tasted. For a short moment his mind went completely blank.

He started sucking on your clit and licked through your folds, causing you to tighten your grip on his hand, nails digging into his skin and your moans to get louder. He flicked his tongue in long and slower licks and changed the technique every so often to a faster and shorter pace. Completely devouring everything he could get from you. You didn’t even think about keeping it quiet, as it was overwhelming to feel his tongue on you. All the build-up tension over the past months is finally being relieved. Who would be better than him? No one.

You felt the all too well-known knot in your stomach, signalling that you were close to your climax. Aemond knew you were close as he noticed the way your panting increased, and your head fell back against the backrest of his couch. You cried out for more and wrapped one of your legs over his shoulder, which caused him to moan into you.

“Fuck– Aemond, I’m close! I…” Your grip on his hand tightened even more, if that was even possible, your back arched, and eyes closed as you focused on the building pleasure in your stomach.

“Don’t hold yourself back, darling. Come all over my face,” he panted against your cunt and got his mouth back on your swollen clit to sloppily circle his tongue around it, savouring each second while being between your thighs. Your mind turned blank as he continued to pleasure you, he still knew how to take care of you perfectly.

A strangled moan left your lips as you came on his tongue a few moments later, your legs slightly shaking as he fucked you with his tongue through your orgasm. Aemond could swear he almost lost his mind as he heard your moan and tasted you on his tongue, his hips humping into his couch. A soft chuckle left your lips as you exhaled and looked down at him. He was still kneeling between your legs, and his chin was glistening with your arousal and some of his spit. After you gained some strength again, you leaned forward and kissed him while your hands were on his cheeks, moaning as you tasted yourself.

“You did so well for me,” he praised you with a whisper as he pulled away from the kiss. “Can I take you to my bed or do you–“

“Please,” you nodded eagerly with a hushed voice, “Please do, Aemond.”

He gently picked you up, his hands digging into the skin of your thighs and placed open kisses on your exposed neck as he carried you into his bedroom, kicking the door as you were inside to close it behind him. He carefully placed you on his bed and hovered over you as he continued to kiss your neck and jaw. Your hands found the hem of his shirt and pulled on it, he moved his head away from your neck so you could pull off his shirt. You tossed it somewhere into his room, not caring about where it landed and traced his chest tenderly. He captured your lips in a kiss, his hips slightly buckling against you as you wrapped your legs around his hips to pull him closer to you. You took off the rest of your clothes from each other in a few motions, leaving both of you naked as you straddled his lap. His hands roamed over your thighs, caressing them as you leaned down to leave kisses on his chest while feeling his length underneath you.

He sharply inhaled as you wrapped one hand around his aching cock and stroked him a few times which already left him gripping down on your thighs, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. You smirked because of his reaction, you understood how he felt and eventually positioned his tip at your entrance and slowly sank down on his length, feeling how he stretched your walls. A low, needy moan escaped both of your lips, your hands on his chest, holding him down on his mattress, and his were holding you by your hips. You waited a few moments before you started to roll your hips, finding a pleasant rhythm for both of you. Aemond was completely at your mercy, it took him his entire strength not to come immediately. The sounds you made and how your hands roamed over his torso only added more levels to the pleasure he felt because of you. His body shivered, and his heartbeat increased. He felt you clenching around him and groaned with a hitched sound.

“Fuck you feel so good, darling,” he moaned. Your gazes met again, and you wished you could stay like this for eternity. His face was flushed, his back slightly arched, and his mouth agape as he didn’t hold back any sounds anymore.

This only reminded you of the beginning of your relationship, he barely voiced any hints of his pleasure and barely made any sounds whenever you slept with each other, but over the time, he let his walls down and started to be more vocal. This meant the time you were apart didn’t change that factor about him, and you loved it even more. You slightly leaned forward, feeling him deeper inside of you and grabbed his hands to intertwine your fingers, the slightly changed position adding more pleasure to both of you.

You continued to roll your hips and to hold eye contact with him, moaning his name repeatedly. After a while, you pulled him up against you, a soft gasp leaving your mouth as you captured his lips in a heated, passionate kiss, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stopped moving for a short moment, enjoying the close and intimate moment between you as you kissed each other. He lifted you from his cock in a quick movement, both of you whimpering at the loss of each other. He rolled on top of you and gently placed you underneath him, your legs on either side of his while he slowly slid into you again and captured your lips in a kiss again. A soft gasp left your lips, and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. He held him up with one arm while the other held you by your hip and thrust into you with a steady, slow pace. He swallowed your moans as he continued kissing you. You gripped on his biceps, leaving crescent marks in his skin and had your eyes shut.

He fastened his pace as he felt you clenching around him. “I can’t get enough of you, darling,” his voice hitched as his climax neared, “I don’t think I can go much longer.”

Skin slapping against each other, and moans filled the room. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and placed sloppy kisses on there as his hips snapped against yours. You knew he was getting close to his climax as his movements were getting sloppier. He tried to hold on, wanting to get you close for a second time the night, but it only left him whimpering against your lips as he kissed them.

“You can come inside me, Aemond,” you panted, your eyelids half-lidded as you met his gaze. “Are… Are you sure?” His breath hitched in his throat. He groaned after you nodded and lifted his head, so he could look at you as he thrusts into you once more before you felt his seed filling you up, his cock twitching inside of you.

He had a satisfied expression and moved one hand between your bodies, his thumb rubbing on your clit to get you over the edge as well while he continued to thrust into you. A cry left your mouth, and you pulled his face close to yours.

“Come for me, angel,” he exhaled.

You clenched around him, which caused him to whimper from feeling slightly overstimulated as you came shortly after him all over his cock, your legs shaking and moaning. He continued to pound into you in a slow pace to help you ride out your climax. Both of you tried to catch your breaths from the pleasure you both just felt after months of not feeling it both of you fucked out. With a low whimper, he slowly pulled out of you, and collapsed on top of you, your arms wrapped around him. Both of your bodies were covered in sweat and were heated up, your chests heaving. His face was in the crook of your neck, your fingers gently tracing his back, which caused him to get goosebumps. He occasionally placed soft kisses on your neck while he gently traced the sides of your body. After a while, he got up and helped you to get up, holding you as your legs slightly gave up for a short moment.

“Do you want me to help you clean up?” Aemond asked, a tender tone in his voice, but you shook your head. “You can wait in your bed for me,” you smiled at him affectionally, which he happily returned. He was happy that you would be staying over the night. He gave you his shirt so you could go to the toilet after he made sure you were able to stand. When you came back, he already laid in his bed and waited for you to join him. He pulled the blanket over you and him.

Neither of you said anything and just enjoyed the moment while it lasted, even if it meant you wouldn’t speak about it the next morning and act like you just didn’t have your best sex in a long while. Both of you wrapped your arms around each other as you slowly drifted off to sleep. You and I finally had a good sleep after months again, laying arm in arm felt right. And it was right, was it?

A soft hum left your lips as you slowly woke up the next morning, feeling completely comfortable but slightly sore. Your eyes immediately opened and widened as you realized where you were and what you did last night with Aemond. Your back was turned towards him with his arm loosely over your waist. You let out a quiet sigh and slowly wiggled yourself out of his grip, trying not to wake him up. After you successfully got out of his bed without waking him up, you noticed that you were wearing his shirt. As you picked up your shirt, you quietly left his bedroom and got dressed after you picked up your panties and pants that were in his living room. You put his shirt on the backrest of his couch as memories from last night flooded your mind. The pleasure you felt, god it was so fucking good. You missed him and how well he always treated you and exactly knew how to get you over the edge quickly, but what if he regretted it? You didn’t want to face him or the situation, you were afraid of what could happen when he would wake up.

You deeply inhaled and made your way to the door to put your shoes back on, took your handbag and were ready to leave without saying goodbye. But you sighed as you grabbed the door handle.

What if this night was a sign for both of you? What if that was the sign that you were ready to be with each other again?

You cursed yourself, took off your shoes again and left your handbag on the floor next to them. You were willing to see what could and would happen as soon as he would wake up. You decided to wait until he did, waiting on his couch. Saying you weren’t nervous would be a lie. While you waited, you paced his living room a few times, thinking about what you could possibly say to him.

You nervously waited almost an hour until you heard noises from his bedroom. He woke up with a low groan and stretched his body, the events from last night filling his mind immediately. He sighed as he opened his eyes, rubbed his good eye and noticed that the side you slept on was already empty. He immediately sat up, and his eye roamed the room, he noticed that your shirt wasn’t on the floor anymore. ‘They already left…’ He thought and groaned as he cursed himself for having possibly ruined the only chance to get back together with you. He wanted to make things right and give you the love you deserved, not like this immediately.

What if the events of last night chased you away from him even further? What if there was no chance left anymore with you?

You fiddled with your fingers and immediately looked up from them as you saw him walking out of his bedroom. He yawned and rubbed his good eye again. Maybe he hasn’t noticed you yet? But as soon as his eye focused on you, he stopped in his tracks. “I… I thought you had already left.”

“I… Well, I was about to leave but…” You stood up from his couch, “But I don’t think this would have been my best option.”

“Oh… I…” He slowly nodded, considering what to say, and walked into his kitchen, which was connected to his living room. You nervously fiddled with your fingers and followed his movements with your eyes but didn’t move the rest of your body. “I’m glad you didn’t leave,” he mumbled as he made himself a coffee, but you heard him, and a small smile formed on your lips.

“Do you want one as well?” He pointed to his coffee mug, but you shook your head and thanked him for the offer. He poured the coffee into his mug after it was done brewing and then walked up to you.

Both of you sat down next to each other, but there was a tiny distance between you. Neither of you said anything for a moment until he broke the tense silence between you. “Do you… Want to talk about last night?” He spoke softly, the nervousness in his voice was noticeable.

You nodded and turned your gaze in his direction, turning your body towards him, “I think we should.” Aemond inhaled and nodded as well, unsure what to say for a moment before he continued. “Do you regret it?”

“No,” you paused for a moment, “Not at all.” His shoulders relaxed immediately, “Neither do I.”

“Can I be honest with you?” You asked, a hint of nervousness in your voice again. After he nodded, you continued, “I… Uhm… I miss you. I miss us. I know we decided to part ways because of all the things that were going on back then but… I never stopped thinking about you or the time we shared. And last night… Maybe it was a sign? And maybe it was what we needed to realize that we’re ready to be with each other again.”

Aemond didn’t respond immediately, he was quite stunned, but he felt the same and agreed with you completely. He noticed how you continued to fiddle with your fingers and put down his coffee mug to gently lean to you and grab your hands to distract you. The contact calmed you down a little bit. You looked down at your hands as he brushed over the top of your hands with his thumbs. He still knew what calms you down, and you appreciated it a lot.

“I feel the same, darling,” he whispered softly, “I tried to move on, but it was impossible. There was always something missing in my life without you. I couldn’t stop looking at you whenever we hung out with our friends, and I…” He paused, “I still love you. I never stopped loving you, and when I woke up and thought you had already left, I was angry with myself for possibly having ruined any chances with you. You’re… You’re simply the best thing that has happened to me, and I don’t want to lose you entirely.”

You squeezed his hand and looked at him, “Nothing is ruined. I… I never stopped loving you either, Aemond.” You loved him, you always have. Many nights, you’ve found yourself thinking about the rest of your life with him together. How you’d grow old with him, maybe living somewhere peaceful. Together. Maybe you’d have a dog or more than one? Maybe a cat? Or any other animals you could take care of together. Both of you even had thought about adopting a dog or cat together when you were still together. You two already had different name ideas, one of them being Vhagar.

He smiled and scooted closer to you to lean his forehead against yours while he still held your hands tightly and gently. Maybe you were able to have a chance again. “Do you want to give us… Maybe another chance? I… I can’t continue living like this anymore. Every night, I think about you before I fall asleep, and you’re the first thought in the morning when I wake up. Wishing you were in my arms like you always used to. I just… Miss it,” he admitted quietly. His vulnerability was noticeable.

“I’d like to try again,” you smiled while tears built up in your eyes, completely out of happiness. You’ve been hoping for this moment for so long, and now you were sitting here together. Where it all started first because the first kiss you had with him before you were a couple happened in this apartment, on his couch in the same place you sat on currently.

Both of you smiled and fondly looked at one another before you eventually finally leaned in and captured his lips in a slow and tender kiss. He continued to brush his thumb over your hand and hummed into the kiss with a smile. He was truly happy. He pulled you into a hug after you pulled away from each other, stroking your head as he put his on top of yours. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his waist. It was everything you needed, and maybe the break between you was needed to find each other again with a better mindset.

“I missed this,” you whispered after a while. “I missed this too. I missed you,” he admitted and kissed the top of your head. You finally had him back, he was your safe space, and you were his. And you both won’t let the other one go again. No matter what, you’d be able to get through everything together.

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written-in-flowers · 1 year

Text

More Than Enough: OT8 X fem!Reader

Pairing: OT8 x Fem!reader

Genre: smut...just loads of smut...hints of fluff sprinkled inside

Word Count: 14k

AU: sugar baby/sugar daddies, contracted dating, polyamorous.

Rating: Explicit, very

Summary: A good movie night turns into something steamier when the members discover you haven't done your laundry yet.

Tags: poly relationship, breast play, nipple play, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mentions of it too, gangbang, bukkake (sort of), fondling over clothes and under clothes, group sex, cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, anal sex, vaginal sex, sex toys for men and women, blowjobs, handjobs, rough blowjobs/deep throating, slight edging, hella overstimulation, occasional degradation, multiple orgasms, somewhat bisezual sex, ateez!doms, sub!reader, mixed gentle and hard doms, breeding kink, protected sex until the very end so wrap it up because apparently I need to write that idk why it should be obvious but whatever, and lots of aftercare.

Next on Idol Companion

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You pressed the ‘popcorn’ button on the microwave and hoped it didn’t burn. The popcorn coming out burnt would ruin everything. You spent all day fixing everything to work out: you bought more snacks and drinks, added movies to the watch list, and brought out blankets and pillows for everyone to sit on. The boys told you not to go through so much trouble for a simple movie night, but you couldn’t help yourself. It’s hard to get everyone home at the same time. Nights are typically the easiest, so you managed to make it work out.

Waiting on popcorn, you turned to the refrigerator beside you. The members often posted small notes or reminders on the doors so everyone saw them. A few were written by you, but Seonghwa wrote most of them. On the side of the fridge, they’d pinned two calendars. One calendar showed the basic monthly flower and had the members’ overall scheduled days on it. Personal appointments, Wanteez shoots, photoshoots, live streams, and so on took up small boxes throughout the month. The one right underneath it happened to be an Ateez calendar, each month with a different group photo. You’d written down your own appointments or reminders for upcoming events there. You smiled softly when you spotted a post-it note plastered beside it.

‘Reminder: PLEASE GO TO YOUR AGENCY APPOINTMENTS!!! Love you so much, -Seonghwa.’ he’d drawn a small heart next to his name, which made you smile.

Someone posted another note right next to that one.

‘No, seriously. Please go. They’ll think we’re keeping you hostage. Love you lots -Jongho.’ Jongho had drawn two hearts, which also made you smile.

You giggled softly to yourself. They were both right, of course. You’d been missing appointments with the agency because you’d grown to hate them. Every agency meeting included mental and physical examinations. You’d sit down with a therapist to discuss how your relationship with the members is going, if you have any frustrations or complaints you’d like to share, and your overall mental health. Then, you’d leave the therapist for the doctor, who runs a full body check-up on you, sometimes including blood work which you hated because you dislike needles. Your company agent, Sungmi, tells you it is to make sure your body is working to its best ability.

Also, to make sure you’re free of pregnancies, diseases, or bodily traumas from sex.

You shuddered imagining what ‘bodily trauma’ might mean, but you’d heard stories. Your tests always came back clean, so why did you need to go? If you had an issue with the boys, you simply sat them down and told them. They listened to you; they discussed and solved issues with you instead of pushing you onto their manager. Other women in your industry told you they hardly talked to their ‘boyfriends’. Kira, another Companion, said she mainly worked with her group’s manager. You understood those situations called for agency meetings, but you didn’t see the need for yourself. Seeing Seonghwa’s note, you knew he wouldn’t let it go until you went. You might as well schedule it before Sungmi did.

The microwave alarm went off, and you withdrew the piping hot bag. You dumped it into the bowl, and sprayed a bit of butter. Mingi liked lots of butter on his, so you made a separate bowl for him. You knew he’d appreciate the consideration, but it was your job to know these things. As an ‘Idol Companion’, you are supposed to know things your partners like and do them to make them feel better. People who read about your situation online tend to think you’re simply a sex doll for kpop idols, and think they’re able to do it. You often shut down ignorance by telling people what you went through with your training. ‘Training’? Yes, ‘training’.

Because, sex and looks aren't the only part of the position. You told these people they needed to be ✨ interesting ✨. Learning the art of conversation and entertainment are two key ingredients. There are also lessons in psychology, literature, dance, music, art, and history. You said a proper Companion knew how to appeal to all kinds of people, not a singular type. A Companion needed to be charming, charismatic, and intelligent. If a man or woman wanted an idol to like them, they needed to be more than a pretty face. Nowadays, Companions don’t date an entire group like you do, since they find more stability with soloists or dating non-exclusively. People who do date groups usually have a second or third partner to share “the load” with, but that really depends on the company’s budget. Ateez had no such budget when they began, so when KQ approached your agency, they could only select one. Not that you minded. You’d gained enough experience by then to handle all eight idols. Still, it is no easy task, especially with your chaotic boys. You have seen many outsiders try and fail to go through the process because they thought it was all about ‘dating hot Korean idols’. You won’t lie; it is certainly a perk, but there’s more underneath the surface, you’d tell them.

‘You’re not a prostitute. You’re a companion, a friend, a partner.’

Mama Kim’s words rang in your head as you finished Mingi’s bowl, and pulled out a bag of chips. You’d gone out and bought the spicy ones Jonhgo liked, since he’d mentioned craving them yesterday. Little things. It was all about the ‘little things’.

“There you are, beautiful.” His shuffling feet alerted you to his presence and you looked over your shoulder to see Yunho walking into the kitchen. Very tall and broad shouldered, he ran his hand through his black hair and kissed your cheek. He looked over your face and hair, seeing the new style and length. “Gorgeous,” was all he said before pecking your lips. “I haven’t seen you all day,” he said, pecking your lips next and then grabbing a large bowl from the top shelf. “I thought you’d be home around lunch.”

“I ran some errands after my appointment,” you explained, trying to open the bag, “And then I went out to lunch with some friends before going to see my parents. I told them I’d stop by sometime this week, so I took my free day to go.”

“How are they?” he asked, leaning on the island counter. “Is your mom feeling better?”

“Much better,” you answered, struggling to open the chip bag. Your parents both moved closer to you when they retired, so that way you’re not so far from them. “She keeps asking when I’m going to bring all of you over again. I told her we’ve all been too busy, but I can only say that for so long.”

Yunho opened the bag for you with ease, filled the bowl, and looked at the calendar. “We have time off towards the end of the month,” he said. “We can work out a day then. I’d love to see your parents again.”

“We’re seeing YN’s parents?” Wooyoung walked into the room, white shirt hanging from his shoulders and black hair damp from a shower. “When?” He gave you a brief kiss then wrapped his arms around you. “I have to get your mom flowers.” He checked out your new hairstyle, and smiled, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Thanks, and we’ll see them soon,” you said. “I was telling Yunho that she’s feeling better and wants us to visit.”

It took your parents a while to get used to your job; they thought it might be a bit much handling eight men. But, when they saw how happy the boys made you, they stopped questioning you. Honestly, they saw this polyamorous situation of eight boyfriends as a higher likelihood of marriage and pregnancy. Marriage meant financial security, stability, and someone would be looking after you when they’re gone. Pregnancy for them meant grandchildren they could dote over, spoil and brag about to their friends. You told them that you didn’t need a man or children to enjoy life or be happy, to which they said:

“Says the girl who has eight boyfriends.”

“We’ll be having some days off soon,” he said. “We can think of something then.”

Yunho left the kitchen with the chip bowls, leaving you and Wooyoung alone. The youngest moved to grab a popcorn bowl when he hesitated. Your cheeks burned when you realized that he’d felt it. You’d sort of hoped they didn’t notice. With everything you did today, laundry ended up on the bottom of the list. But, they’re your boyfriends and are also men, so you shouldn’t be so surprised.

And, yes, maybe you did hope one or two might notice.

“No panties?” Wooyoung grinned widely, pulling your body closer to his. “Naughty.”

“I haven’t done my laundry yet,” you excused. “Someone used up all the detergent and didn’t buy more, and I forgot to buy some when I went out today.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” he smiled, unconvinced. “You just so happen to be wearing no panties,” he pressed you to the counter, “On a night when all eight of us are here?”

“It is a coincidence, I promise,” you replied, not protesting when his hands gripped your hips.

“Oh, sure, yeah, I believe you,” he planted more kisses on your lips. “Hm, perhaps we should go see your parents in a month or so. By then, we’ll have some good news to share-”

“-Wooyoung!”

He sealed over your shared laughter with another kiss before someone else walked into the kitchen. “Who are we sharing good news with?” Yeosang arrived next, wearing a hoodie over his shirt and lounge pants.

“YN’s parents want us to come over,” Wooyoung answered, releasing you and going to the fridge nearby to grab drinks for everyone.

“Ah, fun,” Yeosang grinned. “You know I don’t mind going.” Yeosang brought you into his arms next, giving you the gentlest of kisses, before he also paused. Yet, instead of saying anything, he questioned you with a look and then smirked when you bashfully turned away. “Love what you did to your hair,” he said instead, “And cool, I like hanging out with your dad.”

“Yeah, your dad’s a cool guy,” Wooyoung agreed. You smiled at their compliments, “Any idea what movie you want to watch, babe?”

“None at all,” you answered, watching Yeosang leave you to grab cups from the shelf. “I saved a whole bunch of movies earlier today, but I’ll let you guys pick. As long as it’s not another superhero movie; I’m getting so tired of those.”

“I’ll personally make sure it’s not," smiled Yeosang.

You followed the pair out of the kitchen into the living room. It's not by any means large, so the long sectional sofa took up the wall in front of the television. Seonghwa, Mingi, San and Hongjoong already occupied spaces in the room: Mingi took up the long chaise section of the sofa, with Yunho taking over the massage chair at the end. Seonghwa sat in the middle seat with Yeosang; San sat in the far right corner, with Wooyoung sitting beside Mingi and Hongjoong on the comfy armchair opposite the massage chair. You noticed one person still missing.

“Where’s Jongho?” you asked them, noticing the youngest one’s absence.

“Gaming,” answered San, bundling up underneath covers to avoid the chill in the room.

Leaving the living room, you went down the hall to the larger bedroom. Beside a bed up against the wall, Jongho sat at his computer with headphones on and absorbed in his game. You stood there a few seconds to see if he noticed you, but when he didn’t, you walked up to him and gingerly lifted his headphones from his ears. Jongho let out a cry of protest, but quieted when he saw you.

“Movie night,” you answered his questioning gaze. “Come watch it with us.”

“Hm,” he leaned back in the chair, pondering thoughtfully, “I don’t know. I’m kinda deep in my game here. I’m not sure I could go right now,” he gave you a sly smirk. You’d have to convince him.

“The game can wait,” you took his hand in yours and pouted, “I haven’t seen any of you all day. Come into the living room and sit with us. I got those spicy chips you like.”

His hand was so close to your body, he broke away to wrap his arm around your waist and bring you into his lap. Giggling from the sudden pull, he blindsided you with a kiss that started light and quickly became tender. It was then that Jongho noticed it:

“You’re not wearing any panties,” he said in your ear, lust making him exhale deeply. “I can feel it through your shorts.”

“I haven’t done my laundry yet,” you said. “It’s no big deal.”

“I feel bad for anyone sitting with you,” He gripped your thigh tenderly and said, “They’re going to have a hard time keeping their hands off you…especially when you’re not wearing a bra either.”

“But that’s not that new,” you replied, pushing hair from his face. “I rarely wear bras in the dorm. You’re all pretty immune to that.”

“Eh, not as immune as you think,” he disagreed. “I know there have been days where I avoided Braless YN so I don’t get inconvenient boners. Now, add no panties to that equation, and…you know what? I think I’m good here.”

“Oh hush,” you giggled, moving to slide off him, “You’re coming with me, Mister.”

“Or we can stay here,” he suggested, bringing you back to his lap, “And play while they watch the movie?”

“Another time,” you said, leaving his lap and taking his hand.

Jongho sighed defeatedly and followed you back into the living room. You took a seat with Mingi, and snuggled with him underneath the blanket. The winter chill became more noticeable in the lounge area than anywhere else in the dorm. You regretted not wearing more layers than the tanktop, sweatshirt, and shorts you’d pulled on. Making a mental note to finally do your laundry was interrupted by gentle lips pecking the cartilage of your ear.

"I missed you," Mingi said, kissing the spot again. "I haven’t seen you all day.”

“You did see me though,” you told him, flipping over to look at him properly. “You saw me this morning when you woke up.”

“I did?”

“Yes,” you laughed, recalling a groggy, disheveled Mingi leaving his room earlier that morning. “I said ‘morning, princess’ and you went ‘mmphrfmurmur’ and went into the bathroom.”

“I don’t remember that,” he replied, smiling softly. “I was half-asleep.”

“When did you go to bed?”

“Late.”

The Ateez way of saying ‘probably at 2 or 3am’. You’d gotten used to hearing this answer from any given member, so you said nothing else and moved onto another subject.

“What’d you do today?” he asked, putting an arm around you. At this, you saw a hint of realization hit him, but much like Yeosang, Mingi just kept on talking, “You were gone all day.”

"Going anywhere but to her appointments," said Seonghwa, already munching on popcorn while waiting on the others to pick a movie. "Sungmi called," he said, "She's supposed to call one of us if you miss too many. Why aren't you going, babe? You know you're supposed to."

"They're going to think we have you locked up in a bedroom somewhere if you don't go soon," joked Jongho, who’d taken a spot between Yeosang and Seonghwa.

"I don't need to go," you whined, turning over to look at him. "If there was something wrong with me, I'd know and I'd go."

"That doesn't matter," said Seonghwa. "Go to the appointment." He looked over at Hongjoong, who was arguing with Yeosang about the movie choices. "Hongjoong, tell her to go to her appointment. She listens to you."

"Nah, not that one! Let's watch the first one. That's the best one," he told Yeosang, not having heard Seonghwa.

"They're all lame, in my opinion," said San. "Does it have to be that one?”

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa threw a popcorn piece at Hongjoong, who looked at him affronted, "Tell YN to go to her agency appointments. Sungmi says she has to go or they're going to do a house visit."

"Why aren't you meeting with Sungmi?" He asked you curiously. "It’s not just for us, but it’s for your health.”

"They schedule them too early," you said, giving him your famous pouting expression.

"Then reschedule them for later in the day. You have to go to these appointments; it’s in the contract that you go at least every three or four months" he said.

"But I don't need to. I’m fine.”

"Oh, really?" A smirk slowly stretched across his face, "Maybe we should give you a reason to go, then? Since you don't have one?"

The others stifled laughter, and your cheeks burned again. The words 'bodily trauma' came back, and a shiver went up your spine. Not once have your partners pushed you beyond your limits or boundaries; they made sure you remained comfortable and safe as possible. Yet, the slight implication in Hongjoong’s question brought a creeping heat around your ears. You hid half your face to conceal your embarrassed smile.

"I'll go," you squeaked.

"What was that?" He asked, tilting his ear towards you.

"I'll go to the appointment tomorrow."

"Good girl," he smiled fondly. He turned to Seonghwa, "See? It's that easy." He turned back to Yeosang and San, “Let’s watch the first one. It’s so bad, it’s almost good.”

Seonghwa chucked another popcorn kernel at him, though ruined the effect by laughing. The group finally decided on a film, and settled in as it started to play. Mingi curled into the corner of the couch and put his arm around you underneath the blanket, so your back remained facing him. The warmth of him and the blanket fought off the winter air pressing into the glass windows. The movie, a sci-fi film featuring a scientist, a county sheriff, and a pair of college kids taking on a half-octopus/half-shark monster, proved as terrible as Hongjoong insisted it’d be. Though, the boys and you took this in spirit; you all made fun of the movie rather than take it seriously. You laid there in Mingi’s arms as you enjoyed their company. It felt good being surrounded by all of them at once, rather than in pairs or smaller groups.

A bikini clad girl happened to be screaming bloody murder when something else took your notice. At first, you thought the small bump might be bundled up fabric or simply your imagination. You focused your attention on the girl making feeble attempts to swim from the CGI shark-topus, but when Mingi shifted uncomfortably, you couldn’t help but move with him.

“I’m sorry,” Mingi mumbled in your ear, lips right against the edge, “I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay,” you said as quietly as possible. You did your best not to move too much, but the hardness poking your ass tempted you. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh?” Mingi slowly rocked his hips into you, the shaft of his length pushing into the fabric of your shorts. The lack of underwear caused an even more apparent warmth. His arms secured you close to him underneath the blanket, and he began kissing the crook of your neck. “Is that why you’re not wearing any underwear?”

“Haven’t done laundry yet,” you said. Thinking about it now, you realized how they might perceive this, especially when Mingi’s cock twitched against you. “I didn’t have any to wear.”

“And instead of washing some,” he began, “You decided to walk around without underwear? In this dorm?” you heard the accusation in his voice, and he laughed, “It sounds planned to me…and maybe I should give you what you want.”

“Mingi…” the heat from before crept over the rest of your body now, and the cool air no longer bothered you. "Here?"

"If that's what you want," he said, deep voice sending shivers to your core. "We can go to my bedroom instead. They can listen to us rather than watch this crappy movie." He kissed the crook of your neck, and said, "I know you like it when we overhear you…"

He wasn't wrong. You never said it out loud but anyone paying attention during sex would notice how aroused you became at being watched. Most of the members knew this, and the naughtier ones liked doing it within the vicinity of others. You gazed back into the room as Mingi groped and rubbed up on you. The other members sat near you; all of them remained focused on the movie playing in the living room, except for one. Hongjoong. He didn’t fully turn around, but he’d looked over to see you in Mingi’s arms. The light of the television illuminated the knowing smirk that went across his face. He scanned down your body, as if he could see through the thick blanket, and you bit back a whimper. He knew, even if nobody else noticed. Warmth began pooling between your legs as you pictured him coming over, pulling off the covers and pawing at you with Mingi. It wouldn’t be the first time. Your eyes stayed locked with his, and you gave a pleading expression. He glanced at the rest of the room as if to say, "Right here? You dirty girl."

You wouldn't have denied it either. The dirtiest fantasies of yours involved all of them ganging up on you, using your body any way they wanted and bringing you to climax multiple times. Hongjoong knew this because you’d confessed it to him; he said it’d be the hottest thing you ever did. However, you never brought it up to anyone else. You weren’t sure if you could physically handle all eight men taking advantage of you. You knew possibly three or four is manageable for you, but eight is excessive. You knew if you did that, you wouldn’t sit or walk right for a while; particularly with how horny and dirty some members get in the heat of the moment. The full on orgy would stay in your fantasies.

Mingi slipped his hands underneath your sweater, and you jumped at his cold fingers. Hongjoong didn’t look away; his leering didn’t alert anyone around him, so he kept watching. You dared to release a soft whimper when those hands grasped your breasts over your tank top. Mingi hummed in your ear, continuing to gradually grind into you. The movie’s volume drowned out any noises made between you, and your blanket concealed your movements. Hands over the tanktop and under your sweater, Mingi pinched and rolled your nipples gently.

“You really like when he watches, don’t you?” Mingi asked.

“A little.”

He let his lips linger on your shoulder, “I think it’s more than ‘a little’.”

The gesture sent waves of warmth to your lower half, where you started pushing back into Mingi’s hips subtly. You could feel Hongjoong casting occasional glances your way, which only added fuel to the fire. You felt Mingi’s length grow against you, the small bump getting steadily harder. Your pussy pulsed when he gave your tits another squeeze and pinched your nipples at the same time. Your thighs squeezed together for a form of friction, but wished for more.

“You’re not wearing a bra either. I can’t resist you when you’re braless.” He pecked the spot beneath your ear and said, “It’s torture…You do it on purpose,” he added the last bit as he rolled your nipples in his fingers.

A sudden gasp escaped you when a small surge of cold air snuck under the fleece blanket, and a hand slipped right between your thighs. You opened them to see Wooyoung right beside you on the floor. Dark eyes usually full of sweetness and innocence looked at you with seductive lust. His hand slid along the inner seam of your shorts; that dangerous seam connecting both sides together where he could feel your pussy the easiest. Merely the warmth of his hand built up your arousal further. His middle fingernail dragged against the seam, a very slight vibration coming from the friction.

“He’s not the only one,” said Wooyoung, clearly having overheard you both. “I like looking at them too, but I personally think you should be bottomless instead.” He pushed his finger to your sex oh-so-slightly, causing you to exhale deeply. He could no doubt feel your bare sex underneath the flimsy shorts, since he then lightly rolled his fingers around it. He smirked when you clenched your thighs around his hand. “That way, I can see this pussy whenever I want without so many layers in the way. You always keep it looking so pretty and yummy,” he gave a small growl before sealing his lips over yours. Mingi continued groping your tits while Wooyoung fondled your pussy. “I can't get enough of it."

"Me neither," agreed Mingi, who continued groping your chest and kissing you. "But your tits are my favorite part."

Mingi pulled the blanket off you and lifted your sweater and top over your chest. You gasped at the sudden exposure, but it did not last long. Mingi shifted around to let you lay on your back as both men started licking and sucking your nipples. The sensation of two mouths teasing your breasts and two hands roaming your body electrified you. You tried staying quiet as Mingi firmly sucked one nipple and Wooyoung slowly swirled his tongue around the other. Wooyoung kept tracing the inner seam to drive you wild, and you almost forgot the other men in the room. ‘Almost’ because another pair of hands soon joined in. Sliding up your thighs, Yunho kissed his way to your hips, sliding up the chaise section to your legs.

“What’s going on over here, hm?” he asked, dotting kisses on your thighs. “Is this movie too boring for you?”

“It sucks,” said Mingi, capturing your lips for a kiss. You moaned into his mouth, unable to stop yourself. “I found something more interesting to do instead.”

Yunho’s long arms reached up far enough to the curves of your breasts. He took up the one Mingi abandoned, and carefully circled his thumb around your hard nipple. You surrendered completely once Yunho’s fingers hooked the waistband of your shorts.

“Let’s get these off,” he said, kissing down your stomach as Wooyoung switched sides and suckled your other breast. You felt more exposed once Yunho pulled off your shorts to reveal the truth. “Oh god, no panties,” he breathed, “I knew it. I could tell when I saw you in the kitchen.”

“Me too,” said Wooyoung, who joined him in kissing down your body. “I told her she should walk around bottomless from now on. That way,” he went back to rubbing your sex and you squirmed at the new feeling, “I can see this whenever I want.”

“Fuck, if you did that,” Yunho moaned, sitting on the couch and spreading your legs, “You’d be sitting on my face nearly all day.”

“I’d love it,” you breathed in between Mingi’s kisses, “I love your tongues so much.”

“Oh, do you?” Wooyoung said, mischief in his voice as he knelt closer to your hips. He sat up fully to hover over your pussy. Having him and Yunho this close made your clit throb. “No wonder you flaunted it in the kitchen. It is where we eat after all…”

“I’m pretty hungry right now…” said Yunho, laying between your legs on the couch and swiping his tongue over your slit.

Mingi took over your nipples while Wooyoung and Yunho rested over your lower half. Being pinned down by Wooyoung’s arm, you couldn’t move away from the light brushes against your lips. One tongue already made you a whining mess; two tongues had your eyes rolling back. The tips of their tongues prodded between your folds carefully, sliding and licking them open until they found your clitoris. Yunho’s tongue licked over the underside while Wooyoung took over the top. Both of their tongues came together in the middle, creating this encompassing sensation that had you breaking away from Mingi to moan out loud. You didn’t care if the others heard you. You wanted them to hear you. You wanted all of them, at once, together. Hongjoong happened to be looking on longer as the three men groped and licked you. Your cheeks heated up from the sudden realization from his staring, and you looked away. It was when Wooyoung took your clit in his mouth, and moaned against it that you let go. Yunho, liking this reaction, did the same when his turn came. Both men began alternating: Yunho at your entrance and Wooyoung on your clit. You thought you might lose your mind.

You then reached down Mingi’s body to the boner pulsing against your side just to hear his deep, low groan in your ear. You rubbed along the tent forming in his shorts until you pushed it aside to let his cock out. Your mouth watered, feeling the thick muscle pulsate against your pelvis and picturing it elsewhere. You loved hearing the members moan when you had sex with them. You loved Wooyoung’s soft sighs and Yunho's throaty groans. Mingi was no exception. He moaned into your neck, groping your breasts still and rocking into your hand. You gripped it gently to wipe your fingers over the wrinkled underside, the sensitive part that made him harder. You loved pleasuring them as much as they loved pleasuring you.

“I’d gladly walk around naked,” you said to them, arching your back as Wooyoung and Yunho’s tongues flicked your sex, “If you guys do too. Living in a dorm with so many yummy cocks to choose from is a dream.”

They all chuckled as they pleased you. Then, another voice called out when a lamp turned on. “Hey, turn her around so the rest of us can watch too.”

It was Jongho, and his comment made all of you laugh. Yeosang, sitting beside him on the couch, flicked on the opposite lamp. A bit of shame heated your cheeks as dim lighting brought you into their view. No matter how long you’d been with them, having their attention on you still made you bashful. Mingi, Wooyoung, and Yunho let you sit up on the couch. You let Mingi pull off your sweater so you sat naked under their gaze. Their jaws dropped seeing you bare in front of them in the living room, a public place in your dorm. They still reacted this way whenever they saw you naked. Whether in the bedroom or somewhere else, every time was their first time. Nothing made you feel more desirable than having all of them entranced by your body.

“Lean back, baby,” Mingi said, tugging down his shorts and kneeling beside you.

You took his tip in your mouth at once, giving a soft moan when the hot tip touched your tongue. Yunho and Wooyoung knelt in front of you, each man holding one of your legs and continued eating you out together. Inch by inch, you drew Mingi further in; you held him by the base, cupping his balls in your hand at the same time so he had that extra stimulation. You looked up to see Mingi had stripped further down, his naked torso now visible and making him a jaw-dropping sight. Full lips parted in every moan, you saw the need for release etched into his features, but you refused to give him that. Not right away. The slew of moans the two men beneath you caused became muffled by Mingi’s dick; an act you’re certain drives him wild. Mingi liked pleasuring you while you pleasured him for this reason.

Slurping up the juices your spit and his precum made, you let your tongue linger under for a few moments before suckling the throbbing muscle. You could feel it pulse on your tongue and against your cheeks; more precum leaked inside and you swallowed greedily. All this made Mingi grab a hold of your hair and force you to the base. Letting him guide you, your hand moves in tandem with your mouth. The bundle of sensations coursing through your body caused trembling and sensitivity as Wooyoung and Yunho brought you closer to climax. You knew you'd explode from their tongues teasing your sex from top to bottom repeatedly. Their light flicking tightened the knots tightening between your legs.

"So soon, baby?" Yunho said, pecking along your inner thigh. "We've barely started."

"I can't help it," you whimpered. "It feels so good-Ah, Wooyoungie!"

Wooyoung responded with a growl he made sure you'd feel. His tongue slashed across your clit from side to side and you nearly collapsed from the sensation. Mingi pushed himself back into your mouth, grunting and groaning along with you. The climax burning in your lower stomach slowly built until you were shaking. You'd always been able to hold it back whenever you took on multiple partners, but the possibility of fulfilling your greatest fantasy charged it forward. You didn't know what the end result would be, and you couldn't wait for it.

"No, no, no," Wooyoung said, pulling away right as your orgasm touched the edge. "You hold onto that for now."

"You haven't been fucked yet," Yunho added. "You don't want to cum without anything inside you, do you?"

"But…but I don't know if I can," you pouted at him. "It tingles a lot."

They awed at this, and it was Mingi who spoke. "Just relax and enjoy this," Mingi sighed, pressing his tip to your mouth again.

“I’ll take your mind off it.”

San. You knew what he meant before he even approached. He positioned himself opposite Mingi; he stood on the couch and leaned on his side. Your mouth dropped open when he pulled his pants to his thighs. Having San exposed like this made you gravitate to him. Your body continued gradually coming down from the edging, so neither Wooyoung or Yunho touched you right away. They stuck to being spectators below, watching you along with everyone else.

Stroking Mingi’s wet cock, you opened your mouth for San. He groaned at the first touch of your tongue to his underside. San liked it when you took your time; he didn’t like hasty, half-assed sex. You licked him from base to tip without using your hand, so his shaft stayed on your face every lick. San groaned as he watched you trace the veins along his stiffness and suck on the tip each time. Concentrating on both Mingi and San made it easier to avoid stirring up your orgasm again. You turned to Mingi, and opened your mouth for him. He grabbed his base to smack the head on your tongue, sliding it along the length of your tongue before pushing into your mouth.

“Such a dirty girl,” San moaned, forcing your head back so both cocks settled over your mouth, “You can never have enough dick, can you?” When you shook your head, the room chuckled. “I think you’re going to get more than your fill of dick tonight, sweetie.”

“Especially when you’re so eager for more…”

Mingi held you by the hair as they took turns in your mouth. All around you, you could hear the other members talking and felt their eyes drinking you in. You didn’t feel an ounce of shame. They loved you, and you loved them. You had no reason to be ashamed of this kind of behavior. You liked having them watch. Before any of them ever touched you, you used to like letting them sneak peeks at you in the shower or in your bedroom, getting dressed. The largest turn on was when one member walked in on you with another, and he stayed to watch. They know you like being watched, and did it now just for you. When San plunged himself down into your throat, you received nothing but encouragement and praise.

“Hold it, hold it,” you heard Seonghwa’s deep voice instruct from nearby. “See how long you can keep that dick in your throat, baby.” Your throat tightened reflexively around the intrusive length, and you struggled for air for a few seconds. “Remember what I taught you,” he said, sounding closer now, “Relax and breathe through your nose.”

You tried. You really did, but you finally pulled away from San, coughing and gasping for air. You looked to see Seonghwa sitting where Wooyoung had been on your left, hand gently rubbing your inner thigh. Shirtless in lounge pants, Seonghwa was a vision of beauty. Black hair in an undercut, sharp features bare and perfect, he resembled a painting in a high end museum. How could you not love a face like his?

“I’m sorry,” you coughed, chest heaving up and down. “I tried.”

“That’s okay, angel,” he said, “Try it with Mingi’s now.”

Mingi guided you fully onto his dick, your lips brushing the hilt while his cock touched your throat. He isn’t as long or as large as San, so you managed it with ease. Seonghwa looked on intently. He liked seeing you give the other members blowjobs before getting one himself; he once said he liked having them warm you up for him. Mingi and San both groaned each time you took one of them in your throat. San moved in and out of it easily, enjoying the gagging sounds you made each time he did it; Mingi liked keeping you firmly down while Wooyoung and Yunho made you moan through your throat. The pleasure heightened when a tongue swiped over your soaked, stimulated pussy.

“Mm, tastes so good,” Seonghwa growled, making sure you felt it before he suckled the sensitive nub. “I could eat this all day, and never get bored.” He gave it a soft kiss, “Especially if she’s throating my cock while I do it.”

“Same” Wooyoung agreed, using his turn to make rapid swirling motions there. This instantly stoked the fires inside you again. Yet, every time you grew close, they pulled away. It became total torture that you never wanted to stop. “I could do this all day. I don’t care if my jaw locks up. Hearing her cum is worth it every time.”

The members laughed at his bold statement, but it only made you hornier. You went back to sucking Mingi’s dripping cock when something slim and long finally slid inside you. You looked to see Yunho’s mouth agape as he slowly pumped two fingers into your pussy. He shifted to the side somewhat so the rest of the room could see his fingers stretching your hole while the other two licked your clit. San had been fucking your mouth when Seonghwa and Wooyoung spread your lips further to greedily lap at the pearl hiding in the folds. The cries of pleasure were muffled by the thick cock filling your mouth, but they heard them nevertheless.

“I think she’s going to cum,” Yunho said smugly, maintaining the same pace throughout. “I can feel that pussy getting tighter and tighter.” He pulled them out to rub your juices over your clit and back down, your clit getting a break from tongues to enjoy fingers instead. Your mumbled whimper amused him, and he repeated the torturous motion again.

“I don’t know if I want her to cum yet,” Seonghwa pouted, kissing up your body to your nipple which he suckled softly. “I just got here. Let me see…” His hand replaced Yunho’s inside you, also going slow and steady. You could feel his fingers prod your g-spot briefly, making you see stars behind your eyelids. Each stroke had you whining, and sucking two different cocks added to this pleasure. “She is close,” he agreed with Yunho. “Look at her, she’s shaking,” you heard the taunt in his voice, and you switched over to Mingi once more. Your eyes met his and his jaw dropped, “I bet you want to cum really bad, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, please,” you gasped, taking a moment to breathe and stroking both San and Mingi.

“Let me…” Wooyoung stopped using his mouth and instead fingered you right as Seonghwa withdrew. “Ooh,” he cooed, “It’s squeezing my fingers every time I go in. Especially when I go in deep like this.”

He demonstrated by sinking his fingers into the last knuckle, pressing on your g-spot and making you cry out. He did this repeatedly a few times, and brought you so close you nearly went over. He pulled them out to rub over your clit once more. He started rubbing your clit up and down while Yunho’s fingers filled your pussy again. Seonghwa took occasional flicks and licked up the mess your juices made. It reminded you of the time San and Wooyoung tied you to your bed, where they teased and edged you the way you liked. You went back to sucking Mingi’s cock, the blond haired man groaning as you hollowed your cheeks for him. Seeing your shaking thighs and hearing your moans, the other members sensed your orgasm from afar.

“Come on, now. You know you want to cum.”

“You don’t have to hold back anymore, baby. We want to hear you cum.”

From across the room, your eyes locked with Hongjoong’s. He sat in the arm chair at the end of the couch, lounging casually and watching you like he’s watching his favorite tv program. The sight of him passively observing you somehow made you more sensitive.

You’d never tell a single soul just how much you enjoyed Hongjoong’s cock. You'd never reveal how his dick was the one you craved during lonely nights; how you loved the feel, the taste, and the size of him. He’d been your first, and he’d always carry that title with him. Yunho sunk his fingers deeper inside, moving them faster and angling them a bit higher; Wooyoung worked on your clit while Seonghwa reached up to suck your nipples. Hongjoong caught your gaze, and groped the bulge growing in his pants.

“Cum,” he mouthed out, biting his lower lip and eyeing you closely.

As if activated by his voice alone, you climaxed. Body stiffening on the couch, muscles contracting, your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm blew through you. You suddenly became so hyper aware of the men stimulating you; the men watching you in the room and eagerly awaiting their turn with you. Yunho kept the same pace during your orgasm, the motion of his fingers making your eyes roll back. It was absolute bliss.

Coming down from your orgasm, you saw Jongho and Yeosang preparing a space in the center of the living room. Jongho placed down blankets from around the couches, while Yeosang put pillows where you’d be more comfortable. Seonghwa guided you from the couch to a space on the floor, where he let you kneel down on a long pillow cushioning your knees. Taking up your hair again, this time he eased his cock into your mouth. Your throat already accustomed to it from Mingi and San, you took his cock with nearly no difficulty. The entry burned your throat every so often, and brought tears to your eyes. They brimmed your eyelashes, and trickled down the sides to your cheeks. Seonghwa only wiped them away with his thumb.

"Take it easy," he said gently. "You don't have to be so hasty with me."

Seonghwa never bragged about it, but they considered his dick ‘above average’. Not huge or disturbingly big, it still took a bit of effort where penetration was concerned. When he went in, you definitely felt him for sure. You gingerly sucked and licked him, not taking him in your throat until you felt ready to do so.

“Look at him,” Seonghwa told you, and you knew who he meant. “Look over at him while you suck me off.” You glanced over at Hongjoong, who’d started stroking himself under his pants. You wanted so badly to walk over and pleasure him yourself. But, you knew he wouldn’t want that. “You know how much he likes watching you be used like a little fuck doll. Give him something to watch.”

Seonghwa let out a low groan as you started sliding your mouth up and down on him. You felt the heat of Hongjoong’s eyes on your body; you felt them peeling away at you until he reached your core, where your dirtiest fantasies lay hidden. Opening your mouth, you stroked Seonghwa over your tongue so Hongjoong saw thin droplets of precum fall into your mouth. You enjoyed the salty taste, licking up from base to tip and spitting some onto it before sucking on it again. The arousal flared when Yunho took up the space next to you and grabbed your hand to wrap around his cock. After choking yourself on Seonghwa’s dick the way Hongjoong liked, you did the same to Yunho, who let out hoarse groans as you did it. Yunho never pressured or forced you to pick up speed; he liked letting it naturally play out between you both. Jerking Seonghwa at the same speed, strings of profanities and moans came while you took turns on each one. Soon, more drool leaked from the sides of your mouth, which you usually wiped away, but Hongjoong was watching. He liked you messy.

San knelt behind you. You knew it was him by the warm hands starting to roam your sides. He reached around to your pussy where he started stroking you lightly. Your clitoris still felt sensitive from your first orgasm, yet you craved more. One hand spreading your lips apart, the other moistened your entrance with the cum left inside you. You gasped around Yunho’s length when you felt something hard pressed to your entrance. San swirled his tip around your sex a few times, moaning softly before sinking it an inch or two inside. You let go of Seonghwa and Yunho to lean forward onto another pillow, arching your back to slide more of him inside. A whole new wave of euphoria arrived the moment he filled you completely. You lifted your head to realize Hongjoong was not that far from you, possibly a few feet. His eyes went from your face to where your body met San’s, and he stopped stroking himself.

“How’s that, baby?” San asked, starting off with a steady speed. “Hm?”

“So…So good,” you whimpered, “Go faster. Please.”

He didn’t disappoint. San drove his hips into you faster, and you felt his cock reach further inside. Right as he got into a proper rhythm, another member took the space in front of you. Jongho, the youngest of them all, smirked down at you. He held his dick out in front of you, slowly rubbing it as he’d done this entire time.

“Now, it’s my turn,” he said, scooting closer to you and lifting your head upright. “I’ve been dying to fuck your mouth all night.”

“Pl-please,” you said through gritted teeth as San held onto your hips and pulled you onto him.

“Then open up.”

He eased himself into your anticipating mouth. Jongho took no effort at all, and he always kept gentleness laced into the roughness. He grabbed the back of your head and pushed himself as far as he could, yet did not do so roughly. Your constant stream of whimpers and whines became stifled by the cock buried hilt deep in your mouth. Jongho’s precum added a new flavor to the mixture already there, and also left your cheeks and chin a mess. You could feel the other members around you, awaiting their turn while Hongjoong looked onwards. Even if you couldn’t see him, you knew he watched. Jongho occasionally released you so everyone heard your guttural, hoarse moans from San’s thrusting hips.

“You look so pretty like this, Noona,” Jongho huffed, using that affectionate formality he knew sparked something inside you. “All dirty and horny while we use your…your holes,” he said, pushing himself back into your mouth. “I could do this all day.”

“Me too…”

Yeosang knelt beside Jongho, who withdrew his member to let Yeosang go next. Much like Jongho, you had no trouble sucking him deeply and firmly. Suddenly, you became surrounded. Two hands grabbed your breasts and pinched your nipples, while a third hand languidly stroked your clit. From the sounds around you, Seonghwa and Yunho played with your nipples and Wooyoung once again touched you further down. A sharp smack on your ass came from Mingi, who took hold off both cheeks and spread them as San charged inside you. In a few long strokes, San stopped completely and something dripped onto your ass hole.

“Her ass is so nice,” Wooyoung moaned, no doubt looking on as Mingi rolled his thumb around your ass. “That’s another one I could eat all day if she let me…”

Wooyoung’s oral fixation had no bounds, and you loved it. “Touch it,” you moaned, taking Yeosang out to say it, “Please. I love it when you play with my ass.”

They all laughed softly, and Mingi smacked your ass again. “Is that so?” Wooyoung’s hand left your clit for your ass, smoothing over one cheek before giving it a sharp slap. “If that’s true, then maybe I should eat your ass more often.”

“I bet she’d cum just from that alone,” Mingi said, bending to lick the hole which caused you to cry with Jongho in your mouth. “I’d love to try one day.”

“She has,” Wooyoung told him. He joined in the teasing, spitting and swiping over it with Mingi. “She can be a real filthy slut when she wants to be.”

“The filthiest.” Hongjoong’s high voice reached you over the commotion, and you pushed yourself into San’s hips faster and harder. “She’s nothing but a dirty pervert who craves our dicks all day long.”

“Hyung!” Yeosang huffed with a laugh, even turning over to look at him.

Jongho and him moved to look at Hongjoong, but he only had eyes for you. That familiar glint of depraved lust winked at you, and you so badly wanted him to join. But, you knew he wouldn’t right away. Hongjoong managed his arousal way too well for your liking. The others could become almost feral when in the moment, but not Hongjoong. His cock stood up straight, laying on his stomach and twitching at the lightest ministrations but he did not give into that primal instinct inside him. Having him watching you this way brought you closer to the edge on San’s member, making you grunt in every push.

“Isn’t that right, YN?” he asked, running his fingers up and down the underside of his engorged hardon. A trickle of precum wet his fingers, and you licked your lips. He laughed, “Answer me.”

“Yes!” you squeaked as a finger started rolling around the rim of your ass. Wooyoung spat between your cheeks again, and he spread it around. “Oh fuck, yes! Yes, yes, yes! I am a filthy slut! I am!”

Your answer satisfied him, and he continued touching himself. “Show me then,” he said, “Show me what a slut you can really be.”

You continued working on both Yeosang and Jongo, switching between them every so often to pleasure them both while Wooyoung’s fingers pushed right into the brim of your ass. Seonghwa then lifted you up as far as San’s dick allowed and spoke into your ear.

“I want you to ride me,” he said, licking the edge of your ear to kiss your neck, “While your real owner watches you.” He rapidly began rubbing your sensitive clit, making you clench your thighs and squirm. “Because that’s what he is. We might date and fuck you, but you’re his. All his. I want him to see how good I fuck you when he’s not here to do it.”

San, having overheard the conversation being so close, added, “He loves watching us fuck you this way. He’s even asked me to fuck you in front of him before, you know.” He leaned close to your ear, “Be a good girl and ride Seonghwa for your owner.”

Seonghwa laid down beside you and the others released you. Yet, right as he did this, a small blue packet landed on his chest. You all looked up to see Hongjoong holding a box of condoms. Beside it, you spotted a bottle of lubricant and a gray shoe box. You gulped at the sight of the box. You knew what was inside, and it excited you. But knowing them, they won't pull those out right away.

"We have these for a reason," he said, putting the condoms on the couch where they could easily grab it. "Please use them."

Seonghwa smirked at him, and tore open the condom wrapper. Once he slid it over his cock, you straddled him. On sore knees, you sunk yourself onto him right away. Leaning forward, you kept your back arched as more hands rubbed over your body. Yeosang and Jongho took turns stimulating your clit as you started gradually rocking on Seonghwa’s dick, causing you to fall deeper into a whirl of pleasure. This new angle had his cock pressing into your g-spot again, and their hands only pushed it along. Wooyoung left your ass for your mouth, which you opened gladly to let him in. Seonghwa, with a perfect view of Wooyoung abusing your throat, moaned in utter satisfaction and pushed his hips into yours. It was the wet tongue and fingers on your ass that excited you immensely. San, most likely lying fully on his stomach in between Seonghwa’s legs, had pulled your buttocks apart to lap at your hole. Your muscles tensed once more as Seonghwa angled his body to bury deep inside you; the arms holding you up started trembling and you knew you’d give out right away.

“Lay down, baby,” Wooyoung said, kneeling down over Seonghwa’s head and bringing you at level with him, “That’s it…just relax and-Ah, fuck, hyung!”

“You shouldn’t have brought them so close to me,” Seonghwa chortled, and you saw his tongue flick over Wooyoung’s balls. He hummed around one and the vibration made Wooyoung wriggle over him. “Such a sensitive boy; just like our sweet YN.”

And so you both went to work on Wooyoung. The slim, dark-haired man whimpered and moaned at the two mouths pleasuring him. Your second climax finally arrived when Mingi’s fingers slipped into your ass without warning. The mixture of all the different sensations had you tearing up and shaking uncontrollably. Wooyoung’s cock sunk deep into your throat, just so he could feel you moaning around him.

“That’s it…Just like that,” Seonghwa moaned from underneath, “Cum all over my cock. I love feeling your pussy get tighter around..me…”

“Be nice and loud for Joong-hyung,” Mingi groaned in your ear, keeping his fingering careful and slow. “He loves hearing you cum like that. Yeah, just like that.”

He cooed at you when your orgasm strengthened and you grew louder. You finally stopped, shaking and quivering, as it came down. Every muscle in your body felt weak, but the burning desire to keep going overpowered the physical tiredness. It was everything you pictured it to be. All the nasty, self-disrespecting actions you always pictured yourself doing even despite your self-respect were coming true. The best part of it was Hongjoong’s approval of the treatment.

“Come here, angel.” Mingi grabbed a condom from the box next, and laid down next to Seonghwa. “Turn around for me,” he said and you did as told.

You expected him to slide himself into your pussy, but instead, he pushed his tip to your lubed ass hole. When you gasped, he paused, “I need you to relax, okay? Take a deep breath for me.” When you nodded and tried calming down, he said, “Just let go and enjoy yourself.” He rubbed his hands up and down your back soothingly, “I’m going to fuck you in your ass now. You can go at any pace you want; don’t feel you have to go too fast or too hard. Fuck…yes, like that. Take it nice and easy, angel.”

He grunted when you gingerly sank halfway down on him. “Mingi-ah,” Hongjoong said, “Here.”

He passed Mingi the lubricant from the couch. Cold and sticky, Mingi poured a bit onto his length and then on you. While it made your ride easier, nothing compared to the stretch and full feeling it created. Anal always left a lasting impression, especially since it made you feel particularly stuck on him. Yeosang knelt down in front of you, giving soft kisses to your shoulder and collarbone.

“You’re doing such a great job, darling,” he praised, kissing the base of your neck. “I know you’re getting tired, but you only need to go a little longer, okay?” He massaged your bottom tenderly, pecking your lips and kissing you softly. You watched him take up the lube and squirt some onto his fingers. “Want me to finger you?” he asked, tracing cold digits across your heat, “While Mingi fills your ass? I know you love having more than one.”

“Yes,” you whined, sinking fully onto Mingi before slowly coming back up. “Please.”

Yeosang sunk two fingers into you, and you moaned loudly. He let you grind and brush into his palm each time you went down; he sometimes picked up the pace if he thought you’d grown too quiet. Out of habit, you grabbed his boner to stroke slowly. The addition of lube he poured on the tip had Yeosang softly panting in your ear. You’d been lost in the feeling of the two men pleasuring you that you didn’t notice Yunho coming up beside you with something small and pink in his hand.

“I think I know exactly what our pretty girl needs,” he said, voice full of mischief. “Just keep riding Mingi while we do the work for you.”

You looked at him to see a body wand in his hand. Your pussy instinctively clenched Yeosang’s fingers, and he pushed them further inside to wriggle the tips close to your g-spot. The gentle vibrating coming from the wand made you nearly dizzy from stimulation, creating squeals and high pitched cries whenever it rolled directly onto you. Yeosang removed his fingers so Yunho could place the head of the toy right over your entrance. You started bouncing on Mingi faster, the vibrations causing sharp tickling sensations that matched the feeling from behind. Yunho did not move away; he followed your hips wherever they went, even wiggling the wand from side to side. The members watched in awe as Mingi held you in place and started pushing into you.

“Yun…Ho…” you cried, tears welling up in your eyes from the overstimulation. “Yunho, it tingles!”

“I know, baby,” he smiled, “Hongjoong-hyung gave it to me for us to play with. Tell him how happy you are that he got it for you. Go on.”

“I’m ss-s-s-so ha-happy! Ah-”

Yeosang put his fingers back inside when you leaned back and Yunho tapped your clit with the wand. Your third climax hit you harder than the first two. Your body turned stiff, your head cocked to one side and eyes squeezed shut tightly. Yeosang waited until you’d fully stopped to slide his fingers between your parted lips. Sucking them eagerly, you let out several shaky breaths and did your best to stay up straight.

“You okay?” Yunho asked, tucking hair behind your ear. “Do you want to take a break?” When you shook your head, he said, “You don’t have to take all of us right now if you can’t. We won’t be upset. You’ve done so much already, baby.”

You turned your head to look at him, starting to ride Mingi again, “I want to keep going. I love it too much to stop now.”

He smiled and kissed you, “If you ever want to stop or have a break, you know the word to use, right?”

You nodded.

“What is it?” Yeosang asked, kissing down your chest.

“Buttercup…”

“That’s right. Good girl. Lay down on the couch for us,” Yeosang said, “Get comfortable.”

Yunho helped you over to the couch, where you rested against Yeosang in front of a large pillow and sunk into his comforting arms. Yunho lifted your ankles to his shoulders, and rolled on a condom before handing one to Yeosang. He waited until you settled down to sink inside you. Yeosang then pushed his own cock into your ass, since now Mingi stretched it enough that the pain did not burn so hotly. Both men worked you gently, watching you melt between them as more pleasure pulsed through you. Seonghwa came back up to the side of the couch, body wand in hand, and rolled the vibrating head over your nipple. The tickling feeling surged down in your loins where Yunho and Yeosang slowly pushed in and out of you. Jongho came beside the lower half where his fingers lightly ran over the lips of your pussy, making you squirm and tremble. Your walls clutched Yunho tightly, and this made him thrust deeper and faster.

“Are you going to come already?” Yunho panted, holding onto the backs of your knees as he moved. “Is your pussy that sensitive?”

“Ye-yes,” you nodded, huffing and puffing from exhaustion as the men used you. “It feels so…good…” you kept your eyes closed as they all worked on you. “Don’t stop no-now…I’ve wanted this for such a long-long time.”

“Is that so?” Yeosang asked, grabbing your breasts and holding them for Seonghwa’s toy to tease them more accurately. “Maybe Hongjoong is right. You are a dirty slut. Is this what you were thinking about when I caught you using your toys in the bathtub? You remember that, don’t you?”

You did. Vividly. You recalled Yeosang walking in by accident, seeing you sitting on the edge of the tub and holding a vibrator to your cunt. He’d joined you right away, fondling and kissing you while sliding the toy in and out. “Yes,” you moaned, “But I still liked it when it was just you.”

“So sweet,” Yeosang awed, thrusting up in time with Yunho now so they filled you together. “Go ahead and cum again for us. You can do it, baby. We know you can.”

A fourth orgasm erupted in a scream. Yunho and Yeosang kept the same pace, but Seonghwa and Jongho focused their efforts on your clit. Seonghwa pushed the toy down while Jongho held the lips apart. Sharp pain and pleasure mingled inside and you quaked in their embrace. They hardly gave you time to relax as Yunho and Yeosang withdrew before Jongho got his hands on you. Laying you on your side on the floor, he lifted one thigh above the other and slipped himself inside you immediately. It was then you noticed the box. A small gray shoebox with a designer label on the side. Hongjoong didn’t only bring the body wand. He brought the whole box. Jongho started pounding you right away, moaning your name and squeezing your tits while you stared at the box at Hongjoong’s feet. He gave you his devilish smirk and nodded to the toy box.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Jongho asked, bending over to your ear. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. You feel so good and I’m so fucking turned on by you.”

“Don’t stop,” you muttered, pushing into him and keeping his hands on your chest. The remains of your last orgasm, and the pure adrenaline coursing in your body kept you going at this point. “I want you to keep going. Please?”

Jongho, always needing reassurance you wanted him, started rocking himself deeply inside you. “I’ve always wanted to do this with you,” he admitted to you, kissing up your neck, “It’s why I like fucking you in my room when Yeosang and Wooyoung are there. I like watching you take more than one cock at a time.”

“Jongho,” you giggled, pushing back into him, “You naughty boy.”

“You make me naughty,” he smirked, pushing deep inside and staying there. “But,” he pinched your nipple gently, “There’s someone here who likes watching you more than me.” He kissed your cheek, and then said loudly, “Hm, I wonder what I should do with our girl next? Hongjoong-hyung?”

“Spread her legs open,” Hongjoong suggested, leaning back in his chair and looking on. “So we can see what her pussy looks like being abused by your dick.”

Jongho laughed, then lifted your leg to rest on his shoulder. Fully spread apart, Hongjoong was given a clear view of your soaked, sore pussy being stretched once more. Mingi pulled the gray box towards him, and rifled around before finding the bullet vibrator. A baby blue toy the size of an egg was then pressed to you and Jongho met from behind you. Both of you felt the light vibrations that made Jongho more desperate for release. While you cried and pleaded, Wooyoung came to level with your head and pushed himself into your open mouth. You did your best to suck him, but Jongho’s dick pushing to your core once more with Mingi’s toy buzzing around your sex, it became difficult.

“She can’t even suck my dick properly,” Wooyoung laughed, not upset or disappointed but amused. “Such a dumb little doll. Let me help you, baby.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer as he started sliding himself in and out of your mouth. Diving deep into your throat, you sputtered as a moan tried escaping you but was blocked off. “She’s loving this,” Mingi smirked, “I think we should do this more often just for her. I know she’d love that.”

“We don’t want to work her too hard though,” said Jongho, who pecked kisses along your leg and ankle. “It might hurt her a lot.”

“Nah, it’s healthy for cock hungry sluts to be gangbanged once in a while,” said Hongjoong. “They need to be fucked into oblivion so they remember what they’re good for.” He held back a moan as he said, “She needs to remember she’s just our little cum dump from time to time.”

Some members stifled laughter at his bold, cruel words but you only whined. Yes. Yes, that’s what you were: a toy for the members to release their frustration on. Companions do so much more for idols and idol groups, but sex is usually involved. You didn’t mind. You’d known this from the beginning; you lucked out having loving partners, since not all Idol Companions have such good experiences. You showed that side of you to them right now by submitting to their whims and pleasures.

Mingi put the toy right underneath the nub, and with a few more pumps from Jongho, you clamed up again. Another orgasm came so quick and hard, not even Wooyoung’s member stifled it this time. All the members cheered you on, encouraging you to cum one more time or spread yourself further to let Jongho go deeper. Hazy and dizzy, you collapsed onto the floor. You might as well be a pool of jelly. Your holes ached, your jaw burned, and you thought you’d pass out any moment. But, you had more to do. You hadn’t gotten the thing you wanted the most. The boys put you back on the couch, letting you sink back into comfort as Wooyoung grabbed an anal plug Mingi handed to him. Both men prepared you for the small pink plug before sliding it inside. Being on your back, the toy would be pushed in and out of you as Wooyoung sucked up the juices smeared on your thighs and leaked from your entrance. His warm tongue soothed but also pinched your clit whenever he touched on it.

“Wooyoung just fuck her already,” said San, joining in by flicking your clit with his tongue. “I’ll take care of this right here.”

“But I like eating her when she’s been fucked a few times,” he replied, licking up your thighs. “She’s so sensitive and responsive afterwards. I love hearing her mewling and whimpering like this.” He quickly rolled his tongue around your clit so you made those exact noises. San hurriedly joined in and both men eagerly ate you out. “Do you like that, YN?” asked Wooyoung, sucking on your clit and forcing the plug deep in your ass. “Hm, do you?”

You let out a stream of incoherent sentences, and they laughed. “Silly baby,” San awed, pouting and kissing your clit, “So fucked out she can’t even form a sentence.”

“Been fucked stupid,” Wooyoung smirked, “Exactly how I want her when I put my dick in her.”

Tears spilled from your eyes as both men took advantage of your weakened state. Wooyoung sat up right, condom already rolled on, and sunk himself into your aching, throbbing, burning hole. You could hardly see straight, the room becoming blurry in your glazed tears, and your body became numb to everything except the pleasure Wooyoung and San provided. It didn’t take very long for Wooyoung’s soft panting to turn into high moans, eyes full of need and desire as your pussy pulled him into you.

“Please cum, Wooyoungie,” you mumbled, reaching out to his chest and torso so he felt your hands on him. “I want you to cum all over me.”

“Say that again,” he moaned hurriedly, picking up speed, “Say that again.”

“I want you to cum all over me. Please, Wooyoung. Please?”

“Yes, yes, baby. I…I…”

He withdrew right away, tearing the condom off, and you looked down to see his glistening cock twitching as he stroked it. Thick droplets of white fell onto your lower stomach before shooting up to your chest, where the musky scent and sticky heat started to cover you. You admired Wooyoung’s lithe, slim body; his tanned skin beaded with sweat and black strands sticking to his temples and forehead. His lean muscles constricted, and his soft lips parted in every groan. He finally stopped with a few more pumps before San took his place. Lifting your legs up, he slipped on his own condom, and started fucking you right away.

“You just lay there, baby,” he said, “Be a good toy and let me use your pussy.”

“Yes, Sannie. Use my pussy to cum, please,” you panted.

“Do you want me to cum on you too or somewhere else?” he asked, bottoming up into you carefully.

“On me. Please. All over me. I want it all over.”

“Of course you do…” Hongjoong walked up beside you, crouching down to where your head laid and kissed your temple. “Any self-respecting slut loves being cummed on,” he leaned into your ear and traced light circles over your nipples. A faint, fresh scent came off his clothes and skin; he’d showered before the movie and it still clung to him. It added another layer of comfort and relaxation. “And being cummed in too,” he groaned in your ear before kissing it, “Just wait until it’s only you and me. I’m going to breed that pussy the way it’s meant to be. I’m going to breed you nice and hard and deep,” he gave your nipple a pinch, “And you’re going to take every drop and keep it in you.”

“Hongjoong, but…”

“You know I’ll take care of you,” he assured you. “I only want to see how pretty you look with my cum dripping from your holes. You’re already so beautiful covered in cum.”

“She always looks so-s-so good,” San huffed.

Like Wooyoung, he pulled out right when he orgasmed. San tilted his head back, jerking quickly so thin streamers fell over your stomach and breasts. Hongjoong and you looked on together, watching San pump himself until he’d been completely spent. Mingi, the one who started this whole thing, went afterwards. He didn’t waste time with seductive words or praises. He pushed right into you, and didn’t stop until he was a sweaty, panting mess jerking over you. His streams mainly landed on your breasts, clearly where he’d hoped to aim. Hongjoong, wiping up a clear strip of cum, put it to your lips to taste it.

“I wonder who will shoot into this slutty mouth,” Hongjoong said out loud, letting you suck more from his fingers. “They know how much you like to swallow their loads after they’ve fucked you.”

“Oh, I am,” Yeosang took his place beside you and pushed hair from your face. Hongjoong sat on the couch arm rest, still admiring your filthy, naked body like a work of art. “I want my sweet girl to drink every little drop I give her. Will you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you said weakly.

You stuck out your tongue as Yeosang rubbed his tip over it. You had no energy to properly suck or jerk him off, but you gave soft, kitten licks to the head until he started shaking in front of you. He called out in a loud cry like his orgasm imploded inside him. Streaks of cum flew into your mouth and on your cheek, but you quickly caught them by latching your mouth to the tip. Hongjoong kept your hair out of the way, and encouraged you to open up so Yeosang saw you’d swallowed all of it.

“Good girl,” Yeosang rewarded you with a kiss, “Hongjoong better give you an extra special treat for behaving so well.”

“I will,” Hongjoong said fondly, as if doting on a child.

Seonghwa stood a foot away, looking over your body as if he’d never seen anything as lovely before. “You know how much I love your mouth too,” he told you, already at the cusp of his orgasm, “Open it for me, baby. Just like that.”

It didn’t take him much longer. What caught you off guard was Jongho, who’d taken Mingi’s place between your thighs. Both men came rather quickly, since they worked themselves up beforehand. Seonghwa slid himself in and out of your mouth while Jongho pounded you hard. Sucking Seonghwa off felt like eating a candy with a gooey center; it dribbled onto your tongue rather than outright shot into it. Seonghwa and Jongho both picked up their pace: Seonghwa’s cum leaked into your mouth even as his orgasm erupted through him; Jongho’s mainly trickled down over your pubic mound and the crevasses of your thighs. You swallowed the oozing cum, making sure Seonghwa saw you eagerly licking him clean before he withdrew.

“Look at you,” Yunho smiled, taking Jongho’s place, “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen covered in a bunch of cum.”

“Isn’t she a pretty sight?”

“The prettiest.”

Yunho sunk deep into your leaking pussy, and gave into those primal urges inside. His nails dug into your hips, and his balls slammed into your ass as he used your body. The momentum caused the plug inside you to move around, and you almost came again from it. Hongjoong leaned down to your ear, and gave it a soft nibble.

“Just one more, baby,” he said, “Then we’ll clean you up and I can breed you.”

The thought of being bred by Hongjoong excited you so much. Yunho’s cock pushed right into your center, and you started moaning. “I want you to, sir,” you whimpered into his ear. “I want you to breed me.” You’re not an idiot. You’re sleeping with several different men and you’re still young. You obviously take birth control, and they use protection to avoid pregnancies or diseases. But, the idea of Hongjoong’s bare cock pumping you full of his seed made you horny again.

“Of course, you do,” he said. “You’re a fuck doll that loves being cummed in as much as possible. It only makes sense I empty my balls inside you the way a good owner would, right?”

“Yes…”

“Fuck, hyung,” Yunho laughed in between moans, head back and pushing feverishly. “You’re terrible.”

“And she loves it.”

Yunho soon removed his condom to spill his own seed like the others. It created a pool between your breasts and stomach, the thicker strands sliding down your sides and some remaining on your chest and chin. Yunho, his long, broad body hovering over you, only stopped when the last clear drop fell on your stomach. You took a glance around the room to see the others slumped on the couch; their bodies clearly worn out from giving the best thing they ever could. The only one fully alert was Hongjoong, who chuckled and kissed your forehead. Yunho pulled out of you, and so did the plug. He muttered something about cleaning up later, but you hardly heard him.

Elation. Delight. Satisfaction. Only a few of the words to describe the feelings rolling inside you. A lopsided grin graced your face as you let your body melt into the couch where you laid. You wished to bask in the weightless after glow forever. It reminded you of the feeling after a long spa day, completely mellow. Hongjoong grabbed a wet towel he’d brought during his excursion for the toy box, and wiped most of the semen from your body. You loved his delicate, gentle touches; the care he always took when he looked after you. They all did aftercare in their own way, but it pretty much remained the same: baths or showers, snacks, water, and ice packs or lotions if needed. You heard about Companions who'd be left on the floor like garbage after rough sex. Your boys never did that to you. They loved you. Six years together proved as much to you.

As the others started pulling on underwear or shorts, Yeosang brought you a water bottle that you gulped down in a few swallows. It’d do nothing for the taste left in your mouth, but it hydrated you. He mentioned something about tea for your throat, and kissed your forehead. Each man gave you a cheek or forehead kiss before leaving the room; Hongjoong and Seonghwa were the ones who brought you to the bathtub Seonghwa prepared for you. Hongjoong sat beside it as you slunk into the warm water. You deeply inhaled the lavender scented wafting from the bubbles, resting back on the bath pillow Yunho bought you. Hongjoong dipped a soft washcloth into the soapy water to wipe your face and neck, occasionally kissing you. Every muscle in your body turned into putty, barely having energy to remain up without Hongjoong’s help and effort on your part. Your center stung from being penetrated in so many ways, and your clit felt sore from the constant action. You’ll certainly need to go to the agency clinic now. But not yet. There was one member who hadn’t taken you, and he is the one you wanted the most. You noticed the erection still in Hongjoong’s pants, and you knew it’d be balls deep in you soon enough.

“How do you do it?” you asked him quietly, looking up at him from your head rest.

“‘Do’ what, baby?”

“Hold back like that,” you explained. “You’ll have a raging hardon, but don't do anything about it right away.”

“Practice,” he smiled, running the cloth between your thighs. Not in a sensual way, but to simply clean anything the water didn’t remove naturally. You winced at the soft cloth on your pussy, so Hongjoong went more carefully as he went further down. “I used to edge myself a lot when I was younger. I liked the feeling of holding back as much as I could before finally cumming. It makes that final orgasm so much better. Not to mention,” he casted a side eye glance at you, “There are certain people whose pleasure I care about more than mine. You know, people who mean so much to me and who I enjoy pleasuring first?”

“Seonghwa?” you said, a teasing smile on your face.

“You, dummy,” he flicked some water at you and you both laughed. He peppered a few kisses on your lips, then said, “That doesn’t mean I’m not tempted to fuck you right here in this bathtub right now.”

“Then why don’t you?” you asked, hand reaching from the water to touch his knee. “I can take it. I promise.”

He smiled, taking your hand to wipe his cloth down your arm, “I know you can, but I know you’re tired too. I can wait, baby.”

Hongjoong kissed the inner part of your wrist, then continued washing you. Hongjoong held you close as he dried you off in his lap, not caring if you wet his clothes, and brought you into your bedroom. After helping you into bed, Hongjoong undressed completely, exposing his body to you one piece at a time until he stood naked. Keeping on the lamp beside your bed, he slipped underneath the sheets with you and locked his lips with yours. You wrapped yourself around him and he slid his arms underneath your shoulders. Hongjoong let his hard shaft slide over your clit a few times, using his own precum to slicken your folds. When you flinched, he pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” he said between kisses on your neck, “Do you still want me to do this? I can just rub it out myself if you’re too stimulated. I don’t want you to go through any pain for me.”

“I meant it when I said I wanted you to do it.”

You reached into your bed side table where he’d left his flesh light the last time you slept together. Hongjoong rolled onto his back, pulling out a lube bottle from the opposite drawer and handing it to you. Sitting up despite your tiredness, you squirted a bit of lubricant onto his cock and coated it liberally. This motion alone had Hongjoong groaning and clutching your bed sheets. You really did love looking at his cock. The size and girth fit just right, never splitting or going too deep inside. You ran your fingers underneath the head, giggling when it twitched. Laying halfway on top of him, your thighs straddling one of his, you carefully sunk the fleshlight onto his cock. The groan of relief Hongjoong gave was enough to regenerate your arousal. His face scrunched up from pleasure, the pleasure he’d been withholding for a long time, was put permanently into your memory. When you looked down, you saw his dick filling the clear, silicone toy.

“I love your cock so much,” you said in his ear, “I get wet thinking about the things you can do to me with it.” You slowly started grinding into his thigh, humping him in lazy motions while dragging the fleshlight up and down. “I kept thinking you’d fuck me in front of the others, so you can show them that I’m yours. Show them that my body is yours,” you kissed his jawline, “That my pussy is yours.”

He laughed. The same laugh he’d do before his verses in songs. A mischievous, mocking laugh almost, imprinted on the lustful moans he released. “I don’t have to fuck you in front of them for them to know that,” he said, pulling you close and grabbing one of your breasts. “They already know whenever they hear you cumming for me.”

He slipped his other hand over your ass, giving a squeeze before feeling underneath it. The soft squelching sounds of the toy mixed with both your moans as you kissed. Hongjoong squeezed and fondled any part of you his hands could reach while you humped his leg gingerly. When you both became heated enough, Hongjoong pulled off the toy and rolled you onto your back. You prepared yourself for him to enter you by clutching the pillow under your head. Seeing you surrender yourself over to him, Hongjoong kissed you deeply while entering slowly inside you inch by inch. All the need and desire from the orgy came back, and soon Hongjoong’s growls and grunts filled your mouth. It didn’t take long for your lover to be quaking on top of you. A bit of thumb circles on your clit had you crying out his name again. Your hands slipped into his black hair as he kissed and bit down your neck, and across your collarbone; your hips pushed down into his simply to have more of him. You needed all of him. He sensed this from kissing you alone and bottomed up into you until you quivered in his arms.

“That’s it,” he hissed, “Go ahead and cum just one more time. I want to hear it; go on.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Yes, you can, sweetie. Do it for me.”

The final orgasm came a bit fainter, but it still controlled you as it’d done the times before. You lost all sense as Hongjoong started going faster, causing your bed to hit the wall in light smacks. By the sloppy movements, and feral grunts, you knew he was close to finishing soon.

“Cum inside me,” you said in a small, quiet voice. It was that innocent voice he loved hearing you do when he dominated you. “Please, Joongie. Cum in my pussy, please.”

“I will, baby. I…I will…fuck…”

Spreading your legs far out, Hongjoong lifted your lower half as he emptied himself inside you. In a series of long, drawn out groans, Hongjoong kept himself deep inside you as he came. You could feel his dick twitch against your walls, and coating them with his semen. The strokes he did were short and hurried so he could keep every drop deep inside you. You liked the feeling, you realized. Your hands dragged down his shoulders to his arms where you grabbed his forearms for support. Making Hongjoong cum this way, this hard, fed your pride well. He didn’t pull out right away when he finished either; he rarely ever did. You both laid on your sides, your leg over his hips to keep him inside you a bit longer. That final feeling of relaxation clouded over you instantly, and you finally gave into it.

“Just go to sleep,” he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose and nuzzling it. “I’ll get the lights and clean you up.” He then chuckled, “That is, if Wooyoung doesn’t beat me to it.”

“Huh?”

Hongjoong grabbed one of the squishmallows from the head board and tossed it at the door. You gasped at the sight of Wooyoung with his phone held up, who cackled and put the phone down. You laughed with him as embarrassment flushed your cheeks, and you buried your head in Hongjoong’s shoulder.

“Out!”

“I just came to get my charger,” Wooyoung laughed in his defense, “I gave it to YN-”

“-Use someone else’s charger!” he scolded, breaking from you to launch another stuffed animal.

Wooyoung continued laughing, wishing you goodnight and closing the door. You both heard his laughter as he walked down the hall, and you cuddled back to Hongjoong.

“How many videos does that make?” you asked in a joke. “A dozen?”

“More like a hundred,” Hongjoong replied, bringing you into his arms and kissing your forehead. “He takes photos of you too when you’re not looking. I remember catching him filming you showering a few years ago; when you first moved into the dorm instead of living in the company residency.” He rubbed your back soothingly, and kissed you again. “I’ll get him to delete them, if it bothers you.”

“I don’t mind,” you said, shutting your eyes and basking in his warmth. You felt a prominent stickiness between your thighs, and knew it’d bother the hell out of you. But, you felt too tired to really do anything about it. “You have videos of me too.”

“Yeah, I do,” he grinned, flashing you his cheeky smile before kissing you once more. “Let me clean you up, then I’ll shut off the lights. Seonghwa will make you some tea for your throat.”

“Okay,” you yawned, stretching your sore body and drifting to sleep.

The last thing you remember is Hongjoong reaching for an ice pack you keep in a miniature fridge near the bed, feeling content and gratified. A part of you hoped they did it again, even if it did make you insanely exhausted and left you aching. You guessed you’d have to go to your appointment soon. ‘Bodily trauma’. Who would’ve guessed that?

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut (oral, f receiving), overload of cheesiness, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 11.8k+

→ a/n: this might be the cheesiest, fluffiest thing i've ever written, and i can't even be bothered to care. it might be unrealistic. it might be too much. i do not care. this has been a long time coming and i think we all deserve all the cheese after this story.

i don't even know what to say besides thank you. thank you to everyone who followed along from the beginning, to those of you joined the journey along the way, to those of you who are reading as we finish it up. thank you for all the support and love you guys have shown this fic. i will always, always, appreciate it more than i know how to say. i love these idiots, and i love you all.

if you would like to see this story continued through small blurbs, my ask box is officially open to requests from this universe. i will also probably be posting some "beyond the hours" content over the next few weeks.

thank you. i love you.

without further ado...

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

EPILOGUE: A BET

TWO MONTHS LATER

“Why are there so many fuckin’ options?”

Eddie stares at the line up of smartphones before him, all different models and different physical sizes, different colors and different memory amounts.

“There’s not that many,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him from behind as you rest your chin on his shoulder. It’s a bit of a stretch, making you lean up onto your tippy toes, “Besides, isn’t having options a good thing?”

He scoffs as he brings a hand up subconsciously to where your arms overlap on his torso, grip gentle as he runs a thumb over your skin and gives a squeeze, “Sure, options are great. But there’s at least twenty different iPhones on display here, sweetheart.”

The last few months had been interesting, to say the least. A new and exciting journey initially, but also a fairly stressful ordeal given all the hoops you two had been jumping through. You’re both busy people, having to suddenly figure out how to carve out a specific space for each other amongst bustling lives. It wasn’t the same as making time for friends or a weekly night out; it was figuring out times for dates, times for lazy afternoons, times for just you and just Eddie.

And, occasionally, time to take Eddie shopping for a new phone. Finally.

“Well, better pick one fast,” your fingers dig into his side playful, and he blows out an annoyed breath as he side-eyes you. You only retaliate in a fast peck to his cheek before whispering in his ear, “We’re gonna be late if you keep taking all day.”

It was Argyle’s birthday party tonight. His actual birthday wasn’t for another week, but he’d be venturing back home to California for that. And so the group elected to throw him a preemptive party at one of the group’s favorite bars.

Which — fine. Awesome. You were excited, you really were: you loved Argyle, you loved your friends, you even found yourself warming back up to parties.

But your friends didn’t know.

Two whole months, and neither you nor Eddie had told a single soul of what had become between you two. Not even Steve. Not even Nancy.

At first the excuse was to give this time to grow, to find your footing before you brought your lovable yet rambunctious group of friends into the equation. But then you two had found your footing, and you’d worried what they would say. Eddie had nearly made himself sick with anxiety over Nancy finding out he’d kept this relationship from her. They’d support you two — that wasn’t a worry. They’d proven that since the first time the entire group had hung out after the bet.

“So,” Robin started, narrowing her eyes at you and Eddie sitting on opposite ends of her and Steve’s couch. Neither of you had said a word to each other yet (Plenty had already been said that morning as you’d snuck him out of your dorm), “You two really aren’t together?”

“Why is everyone so adamant that the bet has to end with us getting together?” you jeered.

Eddie didn’t help the cause when he was quick to take your side, “Exactly! The bet’s over. We lasted twenty four hours. We’re friends now — isn’t that what you guys wanted?”

“I actually wanted to help you dudes plan a winter wedding,” Argyle chimed from the kitchen where he was retrieving a coke, “So I’m gonna side with Birdie on this one.”

“Of course you are,” you muttered beneath your breath.

Everything in you ached to be sitting next to Eddie rather than so far. You ached for his arm around you, his lips pressed to your temple. Just to share body heat, even — innocent thighs brushing with layers of denim between would have been enough.

“It’ll happen eventually,” Nancy mused from her seat on the kitchen counter, Jonathan beside her and matching her confident energy with a sly grin, “Just give them time.”

What they hadn’t realized is that it already did happen. The moment Eddie showed up to your dorm and the two of you said to Hell with space, it was inevitable.

Now, it was just the challenge of letting your friends in on the secret.

“What about the red one?” Eddie asks you as you finally unravel from him.

“Of course you’re choosing the red one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scowls, no malice behind it as you step up to occupy the space next to him, brushing shoulders for only a moment before his hand is grabbing yours, intertwining fingers like second nature.

You recall that moment on his balcony, where he had once been so nervous and hesitant to hold your hand.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, smiling to yourself as you look at the specific model he was talking about, “You’re just getting a little bit predictable, Munson.”

He opens his mouth to argue, to nip back at what you always offer him, when one of the salesmen approach you two.

“Hi folks! Can I help you with anything today?”

Eddie squeezes your hand, no doubt in an effort to withhold his laughter at the man’s overly chirpy tone. You squeeze back, if for nothing more than to let him know you felt him.

Despite Eddie’s previous claim to a decision, he still chooses to entertain the man. Asking questions about different models, inquiring for recommendations as if they’d change his mind. They go back and forth, both polite enough, but the conversation easily bores you. In five seconds flat, your mind has officially wandered off.

You two hadn’t really discussed the specific details of the night to come. Whether you’d ride with Eddie there, how you’d navigate Eddie’s natural born clinginess once he got a few drinks in him, if tonight might be the night to finally tell your friends.

The last one felt a bit obvious. It was Argyle’s night — you didn’t want to snatch the attention from him for even a second.

But there were layers to your anxiety. Because it was more than just how to navigate how you two would display yourselves to your friends on nights out.

It had been two months, and you still hadn’t said those three little words back to Eddie.

He didn’t pressure you. He never once brought it back up, never once pressured you. But just because he wasn’t constantly reminding you vocally that he loved you didn’t mean you didn’t feel it. You’d felt it, impossible to miss, when all those lazy morning fantasies became reality. You felt it during movie marathons and you felt it every time he’d worship your body. It was there — in the late nights, in the early mornings, in the dull afternoons. A wild thing unleashed in your gardens, all those vines you’d worked so hard to see flourish threatened to be torn up by impatient claws at the feeling growing rapidly in your chest every time you looked at him.

And slowly, surely, you knew that there was only so much longer that like could suffice in describing your feelings for Eddie.

You were falling, whether he was aware or not. You just needed to figure out the right moment for those three little words to unstick, to go from hot honey on your tongue to easy breaths between you two. He’s given you time, he’d filled the months you’d awarded him with making up for every previously bitter exchange, and yet you still couldn’t give him this. And you’re starting to believe maybe that’s why you couldn’t imagine telling your friends yet.

You sort of hated yourself for it.

You’re pulled back to reality once the salesman departs, no doubt into the back to grab Eddie’s choice of phone. You don’t even have to ask; you know he got the red one.

“Hey,” Eddie fully turns to you, bringing your knuckles to his lips in chaste kisses. Your stomach still kicks with flutters, your heart still warms at the gesture. Eddie’s affection has yet to lose novelty, “Where’d you go?”

“What do you mean?” you twist your face, “I was here the entire tim-“

“Not where’d you physically go,” he clarifies, letting your conjoined hands drop back to the sliver of space between your bodies, “Mentally. Where’d your mind just go?”

You hadn’t thought he’d notice your drifting.

“Nowhere,” you shrug off.

“Nowhere? So you’re really just that interested in the newest iPhone model?”

He pointedly looks up at the widescreen display you don’t doubt you’d been blankly staring at the entirety of his conversation with the man who had yet to return.

“Oh, absolutely. You know me so well.”

All bark, no bite. These days, all the previous venom that had infected exchanges with Eddie prior to the bet had finally been sucked clean from the wound, long gone to make room for all the genuine affection to seep into its place. You still argued — or perhaps bantered was a better word for it — but you didn’t fight. You both still grated on one another’s nerves and managed to slither beneath the other’s skin, but not in an unwelcome way.

It was a nice change.

It made you hate yourself even more for not saying those three little words.

Eddie seemingly reads your mind, “Are you nervous for tonight?”

“I-“ you consider lying to him and saying it hadn’t even crossed your mind, but the look he gives you warns against it, “We just haven’t… discussed it.”

“What’s there to discuss?”

You hold up your interlocked hands for emphasis, raising your eyebrows at Eddie.

His mouth falls open softly, eyes widening, “Oh. Are you- Are you wanting to tell them tonight?”

No, your gut screams, absolutely not tonight.

“Is Argyle’s birthday party really the best time to explode their minds?”

You try to keep your tone teasing as you sense Eddie’s own nerves creeping up. Sometimes it was fun, standing in a room with everyone and pretending to be more akin to strangers than lovers. But sometimes, it was just plain painful. Sometimes, the entire group would be laughing at something, and you craved nothing more than to be pressed into Eddie’s side and feel the vibrations of his shared joy rather than just having to listen to it from across the room.

It’s not that you wanted to tell your friends and cause a scene — you just didn’t want to have to hide anymore. And maybe you wouldn’t have to, if you’d just tell him how you felt.

“Probably not,” Eddie murmurs, “I mean, it’s his night. We can always tell them the next time we all get together.”

The issue is that’s what the two of you always say. You always brush it off for the next time.

You can only sigh in defeat as you see the salesman finally bounding back out from the back room, a small box holding Eddie’s purchase in his grip, “Yeah. Next time.”

You can’t even be mad at next time. It’s the same thing you tell yourself every time you felt those words on the tip of your tongue, so close yet so far from revealing the most terrifying truth you’d discovered yet to Eddie.

You let go of his hand long enough for him to check out, hardly overhearing when he questions how they can transfer all the data from his current flip phone. When he seems particularly worried about pictures transferring, you don’t think anything of it.

—

STEVE-O: do i need to pick you up tonight?

You don’t see the text. You’re a bit busy with something when it comes through.

Something is currently still between your legs, curls threaded between your fingers as your back arches off his mattress and his name starts to come out as a desperate whimper rather than a chant.

STEVE-O: ???

The initial buzz of your phone on his nightstand doesn’t phase either of you. Eddie’s tongue still works you eagerly, circling your clit as you tug particularly harshly at his roots. Each flick sends white hot pleasure through your bones, nearly making you see stars.

“Fuck,” you gasp out when he brings his fingers into the mix. You can feel his smile against you as he curls his fingers inside of you, mimicking a come hither motion and relishing in your little pants as your thighs tighten around his shoulders, “Oh, fuck. Right there, Eddie. I- Eddie.”

The way you’re moaning his name only encourages him as he slips in a second finger, stretching you further. You feel cool metal bumping your entrance, sending shocks up your spine as his lips suction against you and he sucks hard.

He hadn’t even taken the time to remove his rings when the two of you had gotten home. He had been too eager, dragging you to his bedroom with his lips attached to your neck from the moment he’d shut the front door behind the two of you until he’d thrown you down on his bed.

“That’s right, baby,” his voice vibrates against your clit, “Say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this goo-“

STEVE-O: helllooooo????

“Okay, who the fuck keeps texting you?” Eddie finally pulls back when he realizes you’re slipping out of that bubble he’d created, your head having turned towards the nightstand in curiosity, “Let me guess, it’s your other boyfriend?”

Your head is still spinning and your chest continues to heave from that lingering pleasure he’d been offering so generously to you. He sounds annoyed, but you can guarantee you’re even more irked.

“I don’t have another boyfriend,” you blandly reply, not taking his bait.

It only makes him wrap his hands around your thighs on his shoulder, giving a playful squeeze as you reach out for your phone.

“You sure?”

You squint at the notifications, but don’t properly read them, only rolling your eyes at both the fact that Steve’s the one interrupting this precious moment and at Eddie’s valiant teasing.

You slam the phone back down, eyes trailing down to his, “I am, but I can certainly find another boyfriend if you don’t get your mouth back on me in the next three seconds-“

He doesn’t need a second warning. In an instant, the warmth of his tongue is back on you, lapping at all the spots he’s come to memorize as of recently. That pleasure comes back into reach, edging your vision with feathery black as your eyes flutter shut and the coil in your stomach tightens.

You throw your head back into one of his pillows, one that has started to smell like your shampoo now rather than his, and let a drawn out whine escape your lips.

“You were saying?” he teases, grinning wickedly. He takes that brief moment to come up for air, turning and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh beside his cheek. Not hard enough to draw blood, and probably not hard enough to leave indents. But it is enough to have you preening once more as your heels dig into his bare back and you try to lift your hips, desperate for his mouth again.

He was edging you. Without even meaning to, he was repeatedly bringing you to the edge only to leave you teetering.

With your focus back on him, you can admire how pretty he looks. Mouth slick with you, pupils blown out, hair an absolute mess. You like him best this way, you think, when he looks so absolutely devoted to you. When he’s looking at you with a hunger you almost can’t place. It makes you want to scream from the rooftops about how you’ve fallen for him. How you feel so much more than like for your boy.

STEVE-O: seriously. if you don’t respond, you can just walk. you have five minutes.

At the buzz of the phone, your hands leave Eddie’s hair to form fists, pounding them into the mattress at your side in a brief tantrum. He ceases all actions, pulling his lips away from you again, and it only makes you pout more.

“Baby,” he coos, fingers trailing up the sides of your thighs before he reaches out to hold your fists down, “Maybe you should answer him. Tell him to fuck off-“

Eddie’s interrupted as your phone fully bursts to life with your ringtone.

You were going to kill Steve Harrington.

“On second thought, let me answer it,” Eddie groans as you reach out and grab it once more, “Give the fucker a piece of my mind.”

“Shut up,” you hiss as you realize it’s Robin calling. You turn the screen so he can see, and his eyebrows lift in surprise.

He makes no move to remove himself from between your legs, though. He stays face to face with your aching core.

“Hello?” you snap after swiping to answer.

“Finally! My God, Steve’s been texting you-“

“I didn’t see the texts.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“Nope.”

You’ve never been so short with your friends.

But that pleasure is slipping from you, the flames of your impending orgasm dying down to nothing more than embers. It’s enough to piss anyone off.

“Are you sure?” Robin asks, sounding genuinely concerned, “It’s kind of a far walk-“

“I’m running late,” you sigh, realizing that you were going to have to come up with a lie to get off the hook. Another thing you hated about the hiding — it led to your friendships being littered with dishonesty. Always a new excuse as to why you weren’t available, always feigning reasons as to why you didn’t reply to texts as timely as you used to. “With getting ready. I could- I don’t know, do you think Eddie might pick me up? Isn’t my dorm along the way to the bar from his place?”

At the mention of his name, he perks up. His cheek settles against the exact spot he had bit just moments before, nearly nuzzling into you as your free hand comes down to gently push back his bangs. On instinct, you find yourself soothingly pressing your fingertips in slow circles against his scalp. You’re nearly melting beneath his soft gaze, those big and wide eyes locked on you with bated breath.

“You want Eddie to pick you up?” you suddenly hear Steve exclaim in the background.

Your face scrunches up, a wrinkle forming across the bridge of your nose and between your brows. It’s so damn cute to Eddie that he can’t help but press a quick kiss to the skin he continues to lay into, beginning to smile as your absent-minded head massage continues.

So much more than like.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was on speaker.”

“Why do you want Munson to pick you up?” Steve ignores your sarcasm, voice sounding closer to the phone now, “He drives a motorcycle, you know. That’s dangerous.”

Eddie must be able to catch some of Steve’s shrill exclamation, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. You feel his curious hum against your skin and you don’t hesitate putting your own pesky friends on speaker.

“Motorcycles are not that dangerous,” you retort, and it makes Eddie have to hide a slight scoff into your thigh in an effort to stay silent. It was ironic that they cared about how safe it would be for you to ride with Eddie on his bike now, after that allegedly dangerous vehicle had been your main source of transportation for nearly two months now, “He has a helmet, right?”

“Isn’t your dorm the opposite direction of the bar from his place?” Robin questions, “I mean, I’m all for you asking lover boy if he’ll give you a ride but-”

Steve interrupts her flatly, “It’s making him go out of his way. Besides, he might have already left for the bar by now.”

You don’t know what to silently laugh at first. The assumption they were making that couldn’t be further from the truth, or Robin’s new nickname for Eddie.

Lover boy is fitting for him in this current position. He’s still latching onto your leg, cuddling you in every way he could from where he laid, staring at you and hanging onto your every last word. The poster boy for pathetically in love, he gives your leg another kiss, starting a fiery trail with his lips until he reaches your knee. It pangs in your chest, wondering if he can see your feelings also painted so obviously across your face.

“Steve,” you murmur, breath catching in your throat as Eddie’s lips linger in the ditch of your knee. It takes a second to remember you’re on the phone, “No offense, but Eddie hasn’t been on time to a single get together the entire time I’ve known him.”

Eddie reacts in real time to your insult, forcing an over-exaggerated offended look before he bites you again. This time, his teeth do leave an imprint from his nip, and it makes you slap a hand over your mouth to avoid yelping.

Don’t bite me, you mouth at him.

Don’t be mean, he answers right back, silent as ever.

“Technically we’re all already late,” Steve points out. It makes you sit up quickly, startling Eddie in the process. You squint at the clock across the room and- fuck. Steve was right, “Nancy just texted me that she and Jon are there, Argyle’s on his way. She said she tried texting Eddie but didn’t get any response,” there’s a long pause as you motion wildly for Eddie to get up with you, the boy watching as you fling yourself off his mattress and carry the phone with you to his dresser, “Have… you heard from him recently?”

“Why are you saying it like that?” you jab, throwing open one of the drawers Eddie had cleared out for you to keep some clothes here in his apartment. At this point, a good chunk of the tuition you paid was going to waste considering the fact you rarely spent the night at your dorm. You were already half moved into Eddie’s space.

You try not to think too hard about it, because just last week, you’d had a panic attack at the revelation.

You were afraid of smothering him, even if he was the one always insisting you could leave more of your things here. He was always the one conning you into spending another night, promising soft murmurs of giving you a ride to class the next morning if you did. You rarely ever had much of the choice in the matter; once he’d wrap his arms around your waist, curl his body flush against yours, it was always game over.

Practically living together, and you still hadn’t said those words back to him.

“I’m not saying it like anything!” Steve defends himself, “I’m just asking an innocent question!” Eddie’s snort this time is audible, and you freeze as Steve clearly mistakes it for your laughter, “Shut up. It’s a reasonable question. You guys are friends now, remember?”

Friends. Of course, because all your friends jumped at the chance to bury their mouths against your cunt and make you cum repeatedly until you had tears streaming down your cheeks. Because you let all your friends sleep in the same bed as you, and wake you up by burying deep within you as they bite your shoulder with a moan. You and Eddie were friends.

“Trust me,” you glance over your shoulder in your haste, looking at Eddie as he stretches out on his side and props himself up on his elbow, “I remember.”

He gives you a knowing smile, squinting his eyes at you in entertainment.

“Babe, it really would just be easier for you to ride with us,” Robin’s voice sounds again as you tug a shirt out of the drawer, something casual and comfortable that you could style for the night, “Unless you’re just hellbent on having alone time with Eddie for some reason-”

“I’m not hellbent on being alone with him, Robs.”

Another lie. I definitely am. But not in the context you think.

“You just sound like you are.”

“Well, I’m not,” you yank a pair of black jeans free from the drawer and slam it shut, standing and turning to Eddie.

He hardly has time to react before you’re tossing your phone down on the mattress in front of him, the small device bouncing and hitting his chest. He winces and throws himself back dramatically, letting out a small oof that you pray neither Robin or Steve pick up on.

As you dress, throwing on the random t-shirt and shimmying on your jeans, Robins laughs, “Denial isn’t a good look on you.”

Eddie watches you, never moving to get ready himself. All he does is stare as you button up the pants.

When you give him an expectant look, he merely mouths, bra?

You shake your head. You don’t know where Eddie had flung your undergarment, and you’re not in the mood to frantically search for it. You’ve gone without a bra before – you can survive one night out without one.

Eddie’s entire face and chest immediately flushes pink. Cute.

“Now you guys are just being assholes,” you scowl despite the fact that only Eddie can see it, waving your hands to motion for him to get up and also get dressed, “I’m texting Eddie. If he has already left, I’ll just walk. Fuck you guys.”

“Tell lover boy I said hi,” Robin teases.

“Even if he’s already parked at the fucking bar at this point, we both know he’d jump right back on his bike and come pick you up,” Steve’s voice grumbles over the line.

It almost makes you smile. “Someone sounds jealous.”

“Not jealous, just annoyed,” Steve corrects as Eddie finally stands from the bed, “When are you two going to get your shit together?”

“What do you mean?” you play dumb.

You’ve had this conversation with your friends multiple times. They were truly going to have your head once they realized what you’d been keeping from them for months now.

“Don’t you have a 4.0 GPA?” Robin inserts herself back into the conversation, “You can’t possibly be this stupid.”

Eddie pauses in his fumbling with pulling his jeans from the pile he’d left his clothes in at the end of the beg, face scrunching in silent laughter. You almost walk over and smack his bare back angled towards you.

“First of all, no. I don’t have a 4.0 GPA. Thanks for the reminder,” you grab your phone back off of the bed and decide to leave Eddie behind in the room, heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready. You hate to admit it, but if you have to keep watching him giggle so cutely to himself, you’ll also probably break. And you aren’t in the mood for any further interrogation from Robin and Steve, “Second of all, I’m hanging up now. I’m going to call Eddie. At least he won’t be such a dick to me.”

“Oh, you must see the irony there-”

You cut Steve off, “Bye! See you in… like, ten minutes.”

Once you’ve hung up, you put your phone down on the bathroom counter and look up into the mirror. Your hair is a mess, wild and tangled from all the writhing you had been doing before being so rudely interrupted. You give it your best effort, trying to tame it a little bit to look more presentable, but it’s a lost cause at this point. Fuck it.

Eddie appears in the doorway behind you, fully dressed and his hair pulled back into a bun, leaning into the door frame with his arms crossed and an impish grin on display, “Oh, you’re going to call me now, sweetheart?”

You glare at him in a jocosely manner through the reflection, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”

He pushes off the frame and comes up behind you, still locking his eyes only through the reflection as he leans his chin over your shoulder, “And what if I don’t want to give you a ride? You have been awfully mean – insulting my punctuality, throwing your phone at me, teasing me by going without a bra. The list goes on and on.”

Something deep within you stirs, those embers that still ache to burst into a forest fire. You hate that you could easily spend the entire night here with him, letting him take you every which way between his sheets. And even without sinful actions involved, you would be plenty content with just his presence tonight. As a matter of fact, you might be more content with that outcome rather than heading out to see your friends.

Sorry Argyle, you think guiltily.

“I’m teasing you?” you question just as his hands land on your hips, moving so that he was pressed firmly against the curve of your ass. Making sure you could feel how hard he was against the seam of his jeans’ zipper, “You didn’t even make me cum.”

“Seems like we’ll both be spending the night frustrated, then,” he smiles, almost gleefully, almost devilishly, “Besides, that was technically Harrington’s fault, not mine. We both know I usually have no problems making you cum on my tongue – without interruptions, of course.”

He rolls his hips ever so slightly into you, and your mouth falls open, eyes going glossy as you continue to stare him down through the mirror. The stirring in your abdomen is persistent now as your heart hammers against your ribs, mind melting and completely forgetting the obligation at hand.

And Eddie knows this. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you, and it’s deliberate.

Suddenly, his body completely pulls away from yours, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t want to keep them waiting any longer, do we, sweetheart?”

Damn him. Damn him, and damn his dimples, and damn how good his legs look in those jeans as he’s walking away from me right now.

You linger in the apartment, alone, for a few extra minutes to compose yourself. Trying to quelch the heat between your hips that had slowly spread across your entire body, threatening to consume you. You even go as far as to splash cool water across your cheeks, giving yourself a few smacks for good measure as you try to prepare yourself to go into public and put on the usual act. And beneath it all, you also hush the animal in your chest, the one that claws at you to tell him. The one that wails everytime you simply tell him you like him, the one that roars when you let another moment slip you by. It has to quiet, just as your flames need to settle, all for the sake of the act.

You deserve a goddamn Oscar at this point.

After deciding that touching up your makeup would take up far too many precious seconds, you’re darting out of Eddie’s apartment, locking up behind yourself before you head down to where he’s waiting. He’s already straddling his parked bike, the engine roaring to life like the animal inside you as you exit the main doors of the building and his hands extend his only helmet. You don’t fight him on who’s going to wear it – that’s a battle, you’ve learned, you will always lose.

We really need to just buy a second helmet.

The thought makes you smile as you hold the clunky thing. Buying a second helmet. Something Eddie had never done before, because he had never had a regular passenger before. He had never had someone glued to his side as you had become, not even Nancy. It sounds terribly domestic; perusing aisles with him, debating which helmet fits your style best. He’d probably make a joke about your head being big. He’d probably tease you for looking at the ridiculously expensive ones and tell you to opt for a cheaper one. You’d probably end up with a pricier one in the cart regardless, and Eddie would probably refuse to let you pay for it.

Domesticity. The image of it doesn’t ache like it had that night all those months ago. This isn’t something you yearn for hopelessly, smoke and mirrors that dissipate when you dare to reach out for it. It’s something finally in your grasp. Something tangible and something bound to happen, all you’d have to do is say the word and Eddie would comply eagerly.

Anything to keep my girl safe, as he would tell you any time you pointed out how dangerous it was for him to go without a helmet. He’d gotten creative in saying his own version of those three little words.

“M’lady,” he hums, nodding for you to put the helmet on before sweeping a hand over the empty space in the seat behind him, “Your chariot awaits.”

You don’t have a snarky quip to throw back at him, only grinning at the ground as you flip the helmet around a few times to prepare to put it on. All those embers aren’t just desire for him – there’s a warmth there that always exists. A candle on the windowsill of the home you had finally found.

You raise the clunky thing and tilt your head when Eddie suddenly says, “Oh, and babe?”

Immediately, you lower it, eyes wide in curiosity, “What?”

“That’s my shirt.”

“What?”

He motions to the t-shirt tucked carefully into your jeans, “That fine shirt you are currently wearing is mine.”

You look down, and he’s right. It’s too late to go back inside to change, and you know he’s aware of this when you catch his amused smirk. He probably noticed the moment you had put it on, and had deliberately waited until it was too late for you to do anything about it to inform you.

Bastard.

“I-” you pinch the fabric between your fingers, looking between it and Eddie wildly for a second before your shoulders slumped in defeat, “It’s fine. I doubt they’ll even notice.”

—

You were wrong. They do notice.

Everyone is already waiting inside for the two of you, nestled around a table in the bar in a similar arrangement to the very first night you’d been introduced to the group. There’s only two empty seats left conveniently, right next to each other. You don’t miss that mischievous look of success on Robin’s face as she looks overly proud of herself.

They’d set it up so we’d sit next to each other.

You’re grateful for your friends’ antics until you go to take the empty seat next to Steve.

“Is that Eddie’s shirt?”

Robin is leaning around Steve eagerly as she says it, ridiculing the shirt intensely.

“What?” you laugh nervously, looking down and tugging at the fabric.

Lie. Make up a lie. Make it good.

“That is Eddie’s shirt,” Nancy looks surprised across the table, looking up at the two of you questioningly.

“What?” you repeat yourself. Eddie has already taken his seat, and is avoiding the stares of everyone, “No, it’s not.”

“He has one just like it,” Jonathan adds fuel to the fire, “He literally wore it - what? Two days ago?”

In a pathetic attempt of an excuse, you plop down in your seat and force an offended look, “People can own the same shirt. He’s not the gatekeeper of-” you look down, and nearly erupt in embarrassment when you see what the shirt is. “Deftones.”

Ah, fuck.

It’s not just the embarrassment of being on the verge of getting caught in your lie – it’s the memories that flood back. You, on Eddie’s lap. Your mouth and his becoming one. Steve calling, and you sucking so innocently on Eddie’s neck.

Fuck.

You really wish Steve and Robin hadn’t interrupted earlier.

“It’s not like I got it at a show,” Eddie shrugs, and you wonder for a moment if he’s lying, “They’ve gotten more popular lately. I’ve seen their shit in Target.”

“Exactly!” you exclaim a little too loudly, a little too quick to defend yourself, “Exactly. I just thought it looked cool at Target. Besides, tonight is about Argyle.”

You smile at the birthday boy, and he returns the joy as he waves a little at you. The reminder is all it takes for everyone’s attention to return to the focus of the night – everyone’s attention but Nancy’s.

You can feel her eyes on you as conversation sparks up and debates of ordering shots begin. Everyone is busy asking Argyle what his plans for next weekend are – which are mostly composed of normal family gatherings, probably a homemade cake, etc. – but Nancy is watching you and Eddie like a hawk. In the peripheral of your eye, you watch the way she leans back so casually into Jonathan's around her shoulder, looking like she knows. You’re probably just being paranoid. You’re definitely just being paranoid.

You try to ignore it, and instead let yourself just enjoy the moment. All your friends gathered, a group in which you finally feel like you belong to, jokes being made and laughter being exchanged that has you feeling a bit giddy. It’s nice. Even between the smoke of the room and the flickering lights overhead, murmuring chatter of nearby patrons mingling right in with your group’s noise, it’s homely. The smell of drunken cigars and fruity cocktails should be overwhelming, but you just let it wrap you up instead.

And when you turn your head, inhaling deeply the smell of cinnamon and musk rather than all those other foreign anomalies, you find Eddie already looking at you. Soft eyes, bitten grin, a few loose curls framing his cheeks as his bangs curl up into his forehead. Even in the shoddy lighting, he takes your breath away.

He’s looking at you. Just like that first night. Dozens of other people in this room at this moment, and he only has eyes for one – he only has eyes for you.

“So!” Argyle announces, “I think, my dudes, instead of doing what Birdie had so… excitedly suggested,” and oh, he was being generous and calling Robin suggesting he took twenty three shots for his twenty third birthday just her being excited rather than foolish, “We should just take the twenty three shots and split them up amongst the group.”

Steve and Jonathan immediately groan, protesting how they’re driving, and Eddie only shakes his head with a chuckle. So far, he’d only ordered and been nursing on a plain coke, no whiskey.

Somehow, sitting beside him with the group is worse than keeping distance.

When he’d taken off his jacket, you’d silently begged for him to rest an arm across the back of your chair just as Jonathan was doing to Nancy. And he had, almost too naturally before he’d caught himself. It would have been easier to play off cooly, probably would have gone unnoticed, but your boy had practically jumped out of his bones as he’d flinched and tucked his arm back into himself suddenly. He’d even bumped his elbow against his own seat in his haste.

And Nancy had noticed.

“That’s only three shots per person!” Argyle defends, “Four for me, since you know – birthday boy.”

While Eddie may be avoiding alcohol tonight, you aren’t. Not unusual, but it had been odd when Eddie had told the waitress your order of an amaretto sour rather than you telling her yourself.

Another strike. Another thing Nancy had noticed with her watchful eye.

“I’m down,” you shrug, “Hell, I’ll even take an extra shot if those two dumbasses won’t.”

“Is that a good idea?”

You wish Eddie had been drinking to excuse his idiocracy. Because all it takes is him saying that, not with malice but with concern, and the look on Nancy’s face told you she was officially catching on.

He hadn’t said it with the concern of a friend prepared to warn against drinking yourself sick. He’d said it with the concern of someone who would be taking care of you by the end of the night, of someone who would be dealing with the aftermath of that many shots.

You two were bombing this whole secrecy, to put it lightly.

You try to save the moment but laughing it off, turning to him slightly and teasing, “What, are you my keeper now?”

Despite your best efforts, the statement doesn’t come across as friendly banter. It’s not quite fighting either. It’s a dare, you dangling something in Eddie’s face that no one else at this table quite sees. A stupid, idiotic continuation of your flirtatious game of cat and mouse from earlier in the apartment, when he’d deliberately gotten you hot and bothered. When he’d deliberately let you leave in his shirt. His palm is warm when he shifts ever so slightly, placing it on your thigh beneath the table. Out of sight from everyone else. Fueling and fanning all your growing flames.

You two were toeing a very dangerous line tonight.

His eyes darken a bit, and you pray no one else notices in the dim bar lighting, “I don’t know, am I?”

Everyone is distracted enough with your idea. Steve and Jonathan were agreeing, saying they could take one shot and then others in the group could shoulder the extras. Robin was quick to also say she’ll take an extra one. But Nancy is silent, watching your quiet exchange with Eddie.

“I don’t think you are, Munson.”

Except he is. Without a single doubt in your bones, you know that he is.

Your playful smile betrays you. It tugs up the corners of your mouth and it’s clear to any outsider this wasn’t a brewing argument. The game was obvious if anyone was watching close enough. And Nancy, ever the smart one, was watching close enough.

She’s playing her cards right, you realize, when she waits until the group has ordered the round of shots to say anything.

“So, Eddie,” she begins, drawing the entire group’s attention to her best friend, “Do anything fun today?”

He nearly chokes on his coke subtly. “I- Um-”

“You just didn’t answer any of my texts today,” she continues on, “Must have been busy, yeah?”

Eddie retracts his hand from your thigh, far more elusive in this action than he had been about removing his arm from your chair, before he fiddles with his hands in his lap. “Yeah – no, yeah. Sorry about that, Nance.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket for no apparent reason. The shiny new smartphone, having not even bought a case or screen protector yet. You’d already yelled at him for that, claiming out of everyone, you trust him the least to not break the phone on the first day. He’d only laughed and shut you up with a kiss.

His new phone is placed face down on the table, cherry red glinting, “I just had to go to the mall and-”

“Is that a new phone?” Argyle interrupts him, catching sight of the movement and the glinting, “Oh, holy shit, my dude! That’s a new phone! That is an iPhone if I’ve ever seen one!”

Everyone – Robin, Steve, Jonathan – are rapidly leaning to catch sight of it as if they can’t believe it. Eddie continues to shrink at being the center of attention suddenly.

“It is,” Steve laughs in disbelief, “Never thought I’d see the day, Munson.”

Robin scrunches her face, “Does this mean we have to add him to the group chat?”

You let out a giggle at that, lips pressed to try and contain some of that smile breaking through as you look at him and wiggle your brows. He immediately rolls his eyes, but picks up the phone regardless to give everyone a better look.

“Yes, yes. I’ve finally joined the dark side,” he teases everyone just as the waitress returns with the tray of shots. Jonathan is the only one with enough sense to look away from Eddie’s spectacle, thanking her kindly, “Feast your eyes, my friends, for this is where my five hundred dollars went-”

“Holy shit.”

Nancy’s sudden whisper of an exclamation has everyone freezing. Eddie stops spinning and flipping the phone to show it off, staring at her with nothing but concerned, “What? What happen-”

Nancy shares a look with Robin as they both grin.

Oh no.

“Eddie,” Nancy says slowly, turning her head back his way slowly.

“What?” Eddie frowns, eyes flitting back and forth between Nancy and Robin.

Robin is the one to ask the question rather than Nancy, “What exactly is your lockscreen?”

Eddie goes pale. You’re confused, looking at the phone he’s currently cradling with the screen against his palm.

Did he even change it? Wouldn’t it just be one of the default ones?

“Guys,” you decide to come to his rescue, still impossibly confused, “It’s probably just some default screen, don’t tease him.”

“That was not a default screen,” Nancy laughs out.

Argyle looks around at everyone. Nancy and Robin, both with mischievous glints in their eyes. Eddie, still ghostly white as if he’s been caught red-handed. Steve and Jonathan, both just shrugging at each other. “Uh…. Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”

“Show the class your lock screen, Eds.”

“Fuck off, Nancy.”

“Oh my God,” Robin coos, leaning across Steve and pressing you back gently to catch sight of Eddie, who’s dipping his face down, “He’s blushing!”

“Guys, leave him alone,” Steve insists, sharing a look with you now. But you have no clue what’s going on.

You have no clue what his lockscreen is.

“Edward Munson, show us that lockscreen right now, or I’m Venmo-requesting five hundred dollars from you,” Robin continues to threaten.

You look away from Steve and at Eddie immediately, leaning in closer to his space. He looks at you, clearly focusing on your presence more than everyone else’s, and smiles like a child trying to get out of trouble.

“Eddie,” you say quietly, almost impossible for your friends to hear, “What the fuck is your lockscreen?”

He slowly and carefully turns the screen towards you, making sure only your eyes can see it, and- oh.

It’s a low quality photo. Clearly taken on his flip phone. Details just a little fuzzy, and the darkness of the photo wasn’t helping. But you can see it clearly. You can make out exactly what it was that had Nancy and Robin losing their minds.

It’s a picture of you and Eddie, with your head on Eddie’s chest.

For a moment, everyone else at the table doesn’t exist. You hadn’t been insane that night – he had taken a photo. A snapshot of the moment where everything had changed. The moment in which you had given up the fight and completely succumbed to just how much Eddie meant to you, how badly you pined for him and how deeply you liked him.

“I was going to make it the one of you at Betty’s,” he whispers, “But, I just- I really liked this photo.”

He’s still tense, as if he expects you to be upset with him.

You’re the farthest thing from upset at him.

“You made me your lockscreen?” you breathe out, a slow-growing smile beginning to stretch your lips.

You’re not upset at him. As a matter of fact, you’re in love with him. You want to scream it from every rooftop, shout it to every stranger on the street – you are in love with Eddie Munson.

And you have been for a while. You just hadn’t found a way to tell him yet.

“Yeah,” he loosens up a little when he realizes you’re happy, enamored with the fact, “Yeah, of course I did. Who else am I going to make it besides my favorite…. Enemy?”

He says it loud enough for everyone to hear clearly. All of Nancy’s teasing has come to a halt, Robin has settled back into her chair, and Steve is finally looking too curious for his own good.

“As birthday boy,” Argyle breaks the moment, shatters away the bubble you and Eddie always seemed to end up in, “I am demanding I get to see this lockscreen.”

Eddie doesn’t make any move to show the screen to any other person, only watching you for approval.

Well, so much for next time.

You give him a little nod.

Eddie makes a dramatic show of it, sighing heavily before he very slowly turns his lockscreen to face everyone else. But even in his dramatics, you can see that weight lifting off his chest.

This, as a matter of fact, changes everything.

No more hiding, no more lying. One simple flash of his phone screen, of a photo he had taken on a night that no one has even been gifted the details of yet, and all your friends suddenly know.

The reactions all vary.

Argyle leans forward and squints before his face breaks out into pure joy for the two of you, “Oh, fuck yes! Best birthday gift ever. Pay up, my dudes!”

Jonathan leans backward, digging out his wallet as he murmurs, “Son of a bitch.”

Steve only smiles and shakes his head, also digging for his wallet as he seemingly chastizes himself, “I should have fucking known.”

“Hold on,” you look between everyone as Jonathan digs out a couple twenties, “Wait, did you guys fucking bet on this?”

“We did,” Robin answers you, holding up a hand to make Jonathan and Steve pause their retrieval of cash, “What do you take us for? Idiots? Now, gentlemen, before either of you payout, we’ve gotta ask the most important question,” she shoves a palm against Steve’s chest so that he’s out of line of sight, gaze set on you and Eddie, “When did this happen?”

You don’t have any time to be mad at your friends. Because when Robin asks you this, suddenly you’re back to two months ago. You’re outside your dorm with Eddie, kissing him as if tomorrow would never be promised, and you’re home.

You pulled back from Eddie finally, both of you gasping for breath as he held you steady. Your exchange from moments before still hung heavy in the air.

You liked him, you liked him, you liked him.

And the feeling was mutual.

You’d already known, but it was nice to hear. It was nice to be reminded that this, what had happened between you two, was so very real.

“I don’t wanna start over,” the words tumbled from your tongue before you could consider them, upheaving from your chest, desperate for Eddie to heard them, “I- I don’t need to start over. I like our story, okay? You had been right – it wasn’t all bad, and… and I don’t want to start over. I never want you to be a stranger again, and I know that sounds stupid-”

“It’s not stupid,” he interrupted you, forehead meeting yours, “So very not stupid.”

“I don’t care if you were a dick,” you continued on, carefully, “I was, too. We were both… shitty. I forgive you. I’ll forgive you a thousand times over, as long as you keep trying to make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you?” he grinned playfully, “And just how do you suggest I start making it up to you?”

“Ask me out,” his eyebrows raised in surprise, and you knew you must have looked like a wild idiot to everyone else, but you didn’t care, “To dinner, to a movie, to just hang around your apartment with you for another twenty four hours – I don’t care. Just… Just please, Munson, ask me out.”

And so he had. A first date, a second date, a third. You two had gone through the entire ordeal of every cliche relationship despite the unconventional beginning. You’d gone to dinner, you’d gone to a movie, and you had done plenty of hanging out around his apartment and more.

“The night of the bet,” Eddie answers as he finally brings an arm up around your shoulders, just as he had wanted to earlier.

Immediately, both Robin and Argyle let out their own curses, pulling out their wallets just as Steve and Jonathan had.

You look between them, all the annoyance you should feel just being run over with adoration for these idiots. Your eyes land on Nancy, and when you realize she’s the only one at the table not coughing up any cash, you ask her, “I’m assuming you guessed correctly?”

“I did,” she nods, looking proud of herself.

“How’d you know?”

Nancy raises a threatening finger, before suddenly pointing it right in Eddie’s direction, “That idiot has always been down bad for you-”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie stops her, “I’ve already told her the nitty gritty details. No need to embarrass me.”

“No need to embarrass you?” Nancy asks in disbelief, “Good God, just how many times did I have to sit and listen to you pine for her? No, no – I have earned this, Munson.”

You look at Eddie, a glint in your eye, “You only told me about the first time.”

“I only remembered the first time,” he counters, blushing under yellow and faded lights, “I was usually dru-”

“Don’t lie,” Nancy stops him, “There were plenty of rants where you were dead sober.”

Everyone only smiles at Eddie, a few teasing comments made his way, but none of them matter as you lean into his side, your shoulder bumping his to the best of your ability with his arm still around you.

“Aw, babe,” you coo, warm all over for the man beside you, “You had a crush on me? That’s cute.”

His chin lowers, eyes boring into yours with unlimited affection. For a moment, it’s just you and Eddie. The guise of you two having your own bubble of a moment.

His head tilts further, his ears brushing your ear as he whispers for just you to hear, “So did you, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Not mistaken,” you whisper back. Money is now being exchanged, tossed across the table with grumbles that hold no heat.

Yeah, you did have a crush on Eddie. You still do. You don’t think you’ll ever stop having a crush on him, even as he’s surrendered himself as yours. Especially not when his thumb is stroking your shoulder as it is now.

Just like that very first night. The smoky bar fades to nothingness, your tunnel vision focused on Eddie. You know jokes are being made about the two of you by your friends, but it’s all white noise when he’s looking at you like this. Like you’re everything to him, like he’s just returned home after a long week.

You’d really like to be his home to return to after every long week, for the rest of your lives, but there’ll be time to ponder on that later. For now, you two have time.

The voice inside your head suddenly comes to life as it recognizes that this is your moment. You can tell him. Now that you’ve told everyone else, you can tell him those three words. Finally get them off your chest. Make it real.

“Hey, Munson,” you say, still quiet enough for the words to only reach his ears. He perks up, eager to drink your next words. You have all his attention. You always have all his attention, “I-” and then you choke. He stares curiously for a few seconds, and the words just won’t come out. You want to scream – you wonder if it would work if you screeched the three words at the top of your lungs. Probably not, “I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me,” a pathetic excuse at a coverup, “And… I’m really glad they made that first bet.”

He smiles so softly, it strikes you right in the center of your chest. Right amongst your garden that not only had you tended for him, but that he had also had a hand in watering these last few months.

You should have told him. You love him, and you should have told him.

“I’m really glad I didn’t hate you, too,” he remarks, squeezing your shoulder a little tighter, “Actually, I’m glad you don’t hate me. Not anymore, at least.”

“I never really did.”

“You definitely sort of did. You tried to take me out with a glass, remember?”

You burst into secluded laughter, hearing your friends beginning to pass around the shots but paying them no mind.

Eddie can’t help it. He pulls you in close, placing an impulsive kiss to your temple and letting his lips linger there. Just pressed against you, breathing in the scent of you.

That kiss sends shivers down your spine, warmth through the center of your bones. You love him.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

So why can’t you just tell him that?

“Aw!” Robin pulls the two out of your bubble, “Aren’t they just adorable?”

“Yes, yes,” Steve passes two shot glasses down to your end of the table, “Absolutely adorable. It’s nauseating. Also, I’d like to go on record – I totally knew the entire time. I was just giving them the benefit of the doubt.”

“Playing the Devil’s advocate?” Argyle asks, lining up his multiple shots, “I dig it. Even though you’re totally lying right now.”

“You’re so lucky it’s your birthday, dude,” Steve rolls his eyes, clearly holding back an insult.

Eddie’s arm stays heavy on you, a welcome weight as you sit up straighter to take your own several shots.

These were your friends. Somewhere you belonged, filled with people you loved and a boy you could come home to after all your long weeks. A certain happiness that is rare, and impossible to place, and can nearly bring you to tears overwhelms you as you grab that first shot.

“Also-” Steve turns to you and Eddie, “I knew that was Munson’s shirt. The day he got it, all he did was brag about what a rare find it was. Fuck off with your Target bullshit.”

Eddie’s hand leaves your shoulder long enough to reach out and thump Steve, laughter booming and vibrating against you, “Sure you did, Stevie.”

“Target has some nice things,” Nancy offers with a shrug, now holding her own shot glass.

The seven of you all hold up the first of what will probably be too many shots tonight, the beginning of a night that will probably be remembered through killer hangovers tomorrow and possibly even captured on camera by the likes of Jonathan, Steve, and Eddie.

“To Argyle,” you take the lead on the cheers, jittery and anxious as all the love you continue to withhold buzzes in your chest, lifting your small glass in his direction, “The most lovable twenty three year old I know.”

Everyone moves to drink, but Argyle immediately shakes his head, “Nah, fuck that. It’s not even my birthday yet – I demand a new toast.”

He lifts his brows, staring you down and silently adding, you know what to do.

And yeah, you did know what to do.

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, leaning further forward, Eddie’s arm following. You relish in the tense silence as everyone waits for what you’re about to say instead. Even Eddie is waiting with bated breath, watching your every move, a contrasting yet easy smile on his face, “To bets.”

A booming applause from your group. Glasses tapping against the wooden table before shots are downed. Groans of disgust as the tequila hits everyones’ tongues.

Eddie hardly waits before you’ve both swallowed to remove his arm and grab your face, turning your cheek so that his lips can capture yours. Everyone only cheers louder, Steve letting out an obnoxious whistle as Argyle claps. You’re surely going to get kicked out of the bar at this rate. But you really don’t care as you kiss your boy back.

Next time. You have to tell him next time.

—

The night ends in more of a whisper than a bang, surprisingly.

Everyone has suddenly become a happy drunk, probably from all the love and good news passed around throughout the night. It’s all warm feelings and warm hugs, tequila on the breath and love on the mind.

You don’t even get kicked out of the bar. Your waitress only smiles at your rowdy table from time to time, and you figure that all the good vibes must be rubbing off on her.

Steve is the first to call it quits. Robin has drank enough to give herself the hiccups, and he says that after that, she almost always gets viciously nauseous. He wants to get in the car and home before she gets to the point, for the sake of his car’s interior not getting covered in puke.

It’s a domino effect from there.

Argyle quickly agrees, Jonathan offers a guiding arm to Nancy, and Eddie’s arm only tightens around you. The group closes out the tab, putting off worries of everyone paying Jonathan back until tomorrow. Quick, simple, painless.

Until you all get outside. And goodbyes are exchanged – that’s not the part that gets to you – with promises of seeing each other throughout the week. Everyone congratulates you and Eddie one more time for good measure, Nancy and Steve looking the most proud of you two as Argyle and Robin giggle like children about it. And it’s fine – you laugh along and it’s all good. You let them get in all their I told you so’s and know it’s all in good fun.

It’s all fine. Until you two branch off from the group, Eddie’s bike across the lot from everyone else’s cars.

The moment you two are alone, you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or if it’s the levity of suddenly having a moment that only belongs to you. Your mind wastes no time of reminding you of your pathetic cop out: I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me. None of those words even sound akin to the real ones you should have said.

I love you.

It’s not because your friends have found out. You know it’s not that, because just last week, right after your breakdown about whether you were smothering Eddie by half-living in his apartment, you’d had a breakdown because you realized you wanted to fully live in his apartment. You’d had a breakdown because you hadn’t grown tired of him yet, hadn’t satisfied the need to see his face every morning when you first wake up yet. You hadn’t gotten bored with all his lingering affectionate touches. You hadn’t gotten used to the way he’d kiss you in the middle of sentences. He was still taking your breath away, two months later, and you had a breakdown because you realized it wasn’t novelty or a pathetic crush making you feel this way.

You had a breakdown because you love Eddie.

You love him, ardently so, and you still can’t find the right moment to say those words to him. He deserves to know – the entire foundation of this relationship was honesty.

It’s all you can think about as his hand finds yours and he’s walking up to his bike, practically dragging you up to his bike as your legs forget how to work amongst nerves.

“So, I was thinking,” he carries on conversation so casually, “You want to spend the night at my place? I know you said you don’t have any class-“

Now. Not later, not next time. Now.

“Hey, Eddie?” you interrupt him, stopping the two of you a few paces away from his bike.

His face is impossibly concerned as he looks down at you, clearly reading the worry on your face, “What’s up, babe?”

Here goes nothing – be brave.

“I-”

Why is this so hard?

It shouldn’t be this hard, because loving Eddie is easy.

It’s easy when he’s looking at you like this, like he always does. It’s easy when he wakes up after you, and he comes into the kitchen to just wrap himself around you as you make him coffee, no matter what time of day it might be. It’s easy when he catches your eye from across the room during outings, sometimes winking once he knows you’ve found his gaze, just to see you laugh. It’s easy when he tries to distract you from homework when you’ve been spending far too many hours hunched over your laptop on his couch, coming and bugging you, laying his head on your lap and insisting his girl needs a break. It’s easy when he kisses you and everything just feels right.

It’s easy. He loves you – you love him. It isn’t hard. You’re making this hard, when it never was.

“I love you,” you admit quietly, voice shaking as the words leave you easily.

Loving Eddie is easy.

“I love you,” you say more surely, voice raising in volume as you find the willpower to look into his eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.”

Each time you say it, you gain confidence in it. It’s true – you love him. You love him so much, it encompasses every inch of your being. It entirely consumes you. You love him.

His face falls slowly, mouth agape and eyes boring into yours.

You don’t wait for his response. You already have it – in the way he’s still holding your hand, in the way he holds you at the end of each night, in the way he knows both your orders at bars and coffee shops. In the way he will always put himself between you and the street when walking down the sidewalk, in the way when he roughly stops his bike at stop lights that his hand always flies back to hold onto you. In every soft touch and every expression of devotion he has offered you for not just two months, but for over a year.

“You love me?” he softly asks, finally beginning to come back to life.

You nod without hesitation, “I love you, Eddie.”

Now that you’ve started saying it, you can’t stop it. And each time, it’s still heavy and sweet like honey, even as the confession comes as easy as breathing. It’s pouring from every crevice, filling up the night air around you.

He takes you off guard with a harsh kiss. His teeth colliding with yours, his breath stealing yours, his entire being molded with yours.

“Say it again,” he begs in a murmur as he pulls you in even closer, desperate as you break into a smile, “God, please say it again, sweetheart.”

“I love you,” your cheeks begin to ache, the kiss no longer even to be a considered a kiss as you two are just mindlessly pressing your smiles together, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” with each repeat of the sentiment, Eddie drinks it in, “I’m so fucking in love with you, Eddie Munson. You and your stupid lockscreen and-”

“You do not think my lockscreen is stupid,” he pulls away, raising his eyebrows as his palms squish your cheeks, “I saw the way you looked at me. You were eating that shit up.”

You bite your lip, trying to pull further away from him, but he won’t let you, “I was not-”

“You were,” he cheekily teases, eyes bright as he looks at you, “You were, and it was the best thing ever. Totally worth stealing Argyle’s spotlight.”

“We didn’t steal Argyle’s spotlight,” you try to defend yourself.

“We so did.”

You shake your head to the best of your abilities, face still between his hands, “We… Okay, we sort of did.”

He grins like a young boy, all his youth and all his love on show for you as he leans down, pausing right before pressing another kiss to your lips, “We definitely did. And it’s fair, because they fucking bet on us.”

“They did,” you agree, not even feeling guilty anymore, too consumed by the love for the man right in front of you, “They tend to do that a lot, don’t they?”

“They do.”

He finally surges forward, lips sealing against yours one last time. It’s less messy this time, more meaningful. A bit more patient as he takes the time to fit his lips into yours, just as they should be.

You have an audience. You’re completely oblivious until you hear the cheering from across the parking lot, snapping apart to both glance at where Argyle and Robin are jumping up and down, screaming their heads off.

“Hell yeah, my dudes!” Argyle’s voice booms as Robin only produces incoherent coos to echo.

Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan are all just watching silently, shaking their heads, but you can also see their grins. Almost as radiant as you felt.

Steve finally cups his hands around his mouth, sending his voice to you over Argyle’s continuing whooping, “Get a room!”

Perfectly in sync, you and Eddie both throw up a hand with your middle fingers raised in their direction, still half tangled in each other.

Your eyes find Nancy. She’s looking at you two with overwhelming pride, a certain satisfaction that breathes out the relief of finally. This may be a weight off not only your chest but Eddie’s as well, yet you can’t help but imagine just how she feels. How many nights she had stomached Eddie’s rambles about you leading up to this very moment. The pay off must be unimaginable.

Finally.

“Congrats on finally getting the girl, Munson!” she calls out, but her eyes are on you, winking.

You see it now. Why they’re best friends. How all her best parts and Eddie’s best parts overlap and compliment one another perfectly.

Jonathan is the final one to yell across the parking lot at you two, one arm slung around Nancy as the other moves to unlock his car, even his usually grumpy face showing signs of elation in that timid smile, “Now take your girl, home, dude. Spare the rest of us the gory details.”

Eddie’s laugh reverberates against you physically from how he holds you, also making its way to burrow deep within your chest where all that liquid bliss belongs, as he throws his entire head back and makes you finally focus on just him again. Home. Not just his apartment, but him. You realize now that it’s simply wherever he goes. Where he leads, you’ll follow. It could be a shitty dorm room with a mattress that leaves your back aching, it could be a comforting apartment that holds you ‘hostage’ for twenty four hours straight – it doesn’t really matter. Wherever he is, home is. He’s your home; you love him, he knows you love him, and he’s your home.

When his laughter finally fades, and he’s looking at you again, his dimples are prominent as ever through his whisper, “Just in case you’ve forgotten – I’m very much in love with you, too, sweetheart.”

His lips meet yours for good measure.

It’s been the longest week of your life, the longest year, but you’re finally home.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

#twenty four hours #eddie munson #my writing #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #i cannot believe it's over holy shit #holy fucking shit #told y'all the photo would make a reappearance!#im resisting the urge to be so so sappy jesus christ

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featherwurm · 1 month

Text

I'm going to get a lot more personal on here than I usually do:

Baulder's Gate 3, and especially Karlach, make me feel seen in a way no price of media I've ever engaged with before has. It's a big reason why I love it and why it's sticking with me like it is. I too am a big, loud, enthusiastic woman who says out of pocket shit. I have a heavy internal dialogue with myself. I have a temper, I'm bisexual, I love cute shit. I endured years of being utterly touch starved. I love sex and food and being alive...

I also have cancer; it's Follicular B-Cell Lymphoma. I was diagnosed in 2020 when it had reached stage 3A. It's currently under control after chemo* and I'm living my life normally. But while it's a very treatable kind of cancer, it's not fully curable**. There's nothing in me they can remove (it's my whole lymphatic system that's broken) and no drug currently that can wholly knock it out. It's cause is not known (genetically or environmentally), and its unusual for this type of cancer to affect someone as young as I am (I was diagnosed at 35 - it's much more common 65+***). So every three months I go into oncology and they check my blood and symptoms and see if I'm doing ok. I get imaging and biopsies occasionally too. This will go on until I'm not ok (hopefully a long time yet). I'll have to have still manageable but more invasive treatment the next time around. It's a well researched kind of cancer, and my oncologist hopes that in the next decade there may be some more permanent cure for it.

So you can see where I'm going with this. When you hit Karlach's monologue after killing Gortash, I've never felt better understood. I have no one to blame for my condition, no revenge arc of course, but the very same fear, frustration, grief, and anger are all things my husband has heard from me. I've never seen a more beautiful and moving and real exploration of the topic that resonates with me so meaningfully out of a piece of fiction that I love. Béart's performance is amazing - capturing a whole spectrum of emotion.

Karlach's story is absolutely not incomplete as written, confirmed by both the devs and Sam Béart - a terminal condition is just that. You don't get to fix or save her, you get to go with her through tremendous trial and difficulty. If you want to continue that story in your mind that's great (I know I'm eager to do so, for my own personal encouragement if nothing else) but on it's own it's a whole story about coming to terms with something that doesn't have a quick and easy little fetch-quest resolution.

So - every time I see another whinging post/essay/bitchfest about how her story feels "unfinished" or "incomplete" or "has too much cut content" you can see why I might take it a bit personally - knowing that the life I have, the easy solutions I don't get, and the frustration and grief I live with is seen as incorrect and wrong and bad writing makes me a little pissed off. If you think the story is incomplete as told and think a 'third engine upgrade' is missing you completely missed the point.

Karlach doesn't get a simple easy ending because people like me**** don't get that either. And like my husband and the others who love me you can choose to follow that story anyway. And that's fucking beautiful.

*Yeah dealing with cancer and undergoing chemo during a pandemic was really a peach.

**XKCD hits the nail on the head here and here.

***Current treatments have good decade long prognoses... but saying 'you'll probably be fine for the next 10 years' is a lot different at 35 than it is at 65.

****And believe me I've heard from a lot of chronic/terminally ill folks who love the game for the way it represents these things and feel the same, with her Gale, and Shadowheart too.

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buckys-little-belle · 6 months

Note

Im scared to but my first Barbie, but I really want one! Sooooo bad. Can you maybe write Steve and Bucky meeting a she/her reader in the Barbie spot in a store and being nice to her? Maybe buying her a Barbie and some clothes? And they are just nice?

Barbie Aisle Buddies

Stucky x Shy!Little!Reader (She/Her Pronouns Used)

Warnings - The reader is generally a worry wart so she has a bit of 'panic' and worry during this fic, it gets resolved by the end and fluff ensues after her worry.

Notes - I honestly pulled inspiration from a fic I had written a while ago about a shy reader in a toy aisle, so I hope it's okay that I made the ready shy. This is also pretty short! But also so cute!!! Also I know it can be scary going to a store and buying toys but I promise you it's okay! I have bought so many Barbies and Barbie toys like clothes, and I described a Barbie I own in this story! Don't let worry eat you up, go buy the Barbie! Trust me when I tell you it's worth the worry, having fun dolls that I get to play with and dress up is so fun and I don't regret getting them! You only live once bubba, don't let the worry get you down for too long! I hope you get a Barbie soon!!! <3

SFW - Keep all interactions with the post, and this blog, SFW!

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

Y/n had been hyping herself up for a month now. Twenty dollars in her pocket, and a determined state of mind were all she had as she walked up and down the Barbie aisle of her local grocery store. It was a small selection of dolls, yet so overwhelming at the same time.

Some dolls had different jobs, chef, doctor, fashion designer. Others had fancy outfits or animal sidekicks. It was hard to pick just one doll, but seeing as she only had enough money for one doll, she knew she had to pick just one.

"Hello." A man's voice broke through her overthinking, a man stood just a few feet away, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, some worn out sneakers on his feet. He looked familiar, though Y/n couldn't place just where she had seen him before. "I'm Steve." He smiled, turning to look at the same shelf she had her eyes on previously. "It's hard to pick one, isn't it?"

"Um." Y/n panicked, trying to remember the excuse she had made up regarding why she was in this aisle. Did she land on 'getting a toy for a friend's kid' or 'I have a birthday party to attend'?

"Steve!" Another man's voice called out. This time a man dressed all in black, combat boots and gloves included, planted himself a few feet away. "Hi there, Doll." He smiled, Y/n couldn't help but smile back, the man's charm winning her over. "Which one do you have your eye on?" He asked as he scanned the shelves, hands crossed over his chest, looking at the plethora of choices like he too was thinking about getting one.

"Oh, I'm not, I'm just, you know, a, I don't, I." Y/n began stuttering, trying to get out an excuse, any excuse, to make them believe she wasn't buying a Barbie doll for herself.

"Dolls don't have an age, Doll." The man without a name chuckled. "If you're looking for a Barbie to play with I would suggest one that comes with a few items." He began pointing to a few sets she had looked at, but sets that were over her budget.

"I like this one." Y/n quickly grabbed a doll she had her eye on. She was a chef and came with a pan and what looked to be a fried egg. She had a chefs hat and coat, and looked fun enough, but the biggest pull was it was the only doll with accessories that was in her price range.

"She'll need some everyday clothes." Steve squatted down to a lower shelf, rummaging through some small containers for a set of clothes.

"I can't, I just. This is all I can get." Y/n smiled with a hint of self conciseness. Admitting you didn't have a lot of Barbie money to strangers wasn't the end all be all, but at the same time it still felt extremely venerable.

"Well, Doll." The unnamed man with a smile full of charm spoke again. "It's your lucky day then." He pulled the cart Steve must have brought closer to the shelf. "Pick whatever you want."

"What?" Y/n shook her head taking a step back, confused as to what he meant.

Steve was the one to speak up this time. "You don't know who we are, I'm guessing." His smile was softer, more gentle. "I was formally known as Captain America." The truth felt like a weight had been lifted off Y/n's shoulders, her happy to know that she wasn't crazy for thinking he looked familiar.

"And I'm his sidekick, Bucky Barnes, formally known as The Winter Soldier." Mr Unnamed added on.

"Oh." Y/n nodded her head, taking in the two men, even more confused as to why they were wasting their time in a local stores Barbie aisle with her. "Sorry for bothering you."

Y/n was ready to dash with her doll, worried that the super soldiers she just met would grow tired of her quiet demeanor. "Doll." Bucky called out, his voice commanding yet it still had a joking tone to it. "Come back here and pick at least four things."

"Buck." Steve whispered loudly.

"Steve." Bucky said back, his tone condescending. "Doll, please let us but you some dolls. It would make our day." She still hadn't turned around and had half a heart to run, yet for some reason she turned around and took a good look at the shelf.

There really were some sets she'd love to have, like the farmers market stand and a little dog set, and Steve was right, her doll needed everyday clothes. "You won't make fun of me?" She asked, worry surrounding each word.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Steve put his hand over his heart, an action that made her giggle.

"I'm Y/n." She finally gave them her name, a small smile breaking past her worried expression.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/n." Bucky and Steve said at the same time, the three of them laughing.

"Which outfit do you think your doll would look best in?" Steve held out a few options, letting Y/n ponder over them as Bucky tried to convince her to pick the Barbie camper as one of her choices, as if she had a spot for such a big play set.

"I like this one." She pointed to a package that help a blue dress, pick shirt, and jean skirt. The shoes were cute too, and she got excited at the idea of dressing her doll in the outfit.

So there they all stood, Steve and Bucky trying to convince Y/n to get super expensive things, and Y/n trying to figure out how she got so lucky to have two super soldiers worrying over her new doll collection.

#buckys little belle #anon #age regression #age regression fic #little!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x little!reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers age regression #steve rogers x little reader #steve rogers x little!reader #bucky barnes x reader

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kaleldobrev · 1 month

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Prologue — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Unnamed Hunter Boyfriend (OC)

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 1.5k

Chapter Warnings: Age Gap (15 years) & Self-Loathing Dean

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | Thoughts are in italics | Switches between reader & Dean's POV but it's still written in the second person | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

Dean sat on the edge of his bed looking at his surroundings that he hadn’t seen in so long. Although it’s only been a few months, it felt like an eternity to him. Everything was still in the exact same place he had left it; and he wasn’t sure if he should be relieved about that or not.

Being in his bedroom back in the Bunker came with a wide variety of emotions. He was happy to be back in a place that he had called home for the past several years, a place where he was finally able to have his own room again since he was four years old. But yet, there was another part of him that wanted to take his keys and drive off somewhere. He loved Sam, he loved Cas but, it was hard to face them again after everything he had done, and after everything he had put them through. Not only during the months he was gone, but during the short amount of time they were trying to cure him of a disease he strangely enjoyed.

“You weren’t you,” Sam had told him repeatedly as if he was a broken record. But Dean didn’t believe his words for a second. He enjoyed being a demon more than he liked to admit. Being able to kill whoever he wanted whenever he wanted without consequence fueled him. Being able to fuel the Mark was easy, being a demon was easy. Being a demon weirdly came natural to him.

Sitting at your desk, you endlessly scrolled through news story after news story, trying to find any excuse to leave your apartment, as it was a place that was currently not giving you the usual sense of peace it tended to provide you. Your apartment was usually your safe space, a place that you could relax and unwind in after a tough hunt. But ever since your boyfriend moved in, it had become a place that you no longer felt safe and calm in.

You and your boyfriend hadn't been together for that long — roughly a year — but during a majority of your relationship, it has been argument after argument, and the arguments were always about the same couple of things. He was either disrespecting you or upset that you didn't bring him along on one of your hunting trips.

He hadn't been a hunter for long — barely two years — and you met him within his first year. You had met him while on a werewolf case, as the two of you found the same lead and decided to work together since he really had no experience with werewolves. For some reason, the two of you clicked, and had been together ever since.

Whenever you and him tended to get into an argument, you wondered why you were still with him, knowing that you could do better. He didn't treat you right, and often undermined you in front of other hunters, sometimes taking credit for your own hunts. You tried to rationalize it, often saying that he was the best you were ever going to do because there was no way you could be with someone that wasn't a hunter, as you felt being with someone that wasn't one would put them in more harm, and you couldn't risk it. But the words of your mother started echoing in your head now, "It's better to be alone than to be with someone who disrespects you." You knew she was right; she was always right.

As you were about to give up, a news story finally jumped out at you, and it screamed poltergeist — your specialty.

Dean stared up at the ceiling, wanting more than anything to fall asleep; but the events of the last few months kept replaying in his head. "You weren't you," Sam's words repeated again and again.

No matter how many times Sam's words repeated, Dean still refused to believe it, as when he was a demon, he felt more like himself than he had been in such a long time; and that scared him.

The things that he did as a demon he would have done regardless; but the only reason he did the things that he did was because he knew there were no consequences, his conscience wasn't trying to stop him. Sam or Cas weren't there to stop him especially.

The Mark started itching again, getting hot with need. I need to kill something, he thought.

Getting off the phone with you, Sam sighed, looking at his slinged arm. There was no way he was going to be able to help you with this case, but it was far too late to call you back now; not after he already agreed to help you. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint you, as you were a big help to him while Dean was gone.

Sam was impressed by you to say the least, as despite your age, you were a damn good hunter with a decent amount of experience under your belt. He hadn't known you for very long — meeting you within the last couple of months — but you had quickly become someone he had grown to deeply trust; and he was incredibly thankful for that, and thankful for you.

Placing his phone back into his pocket, he grabbed his duffel bag and started packing some of the essentials. The case you asked him to join you on was one that was pretty straightforward, so he assumed it wouldn't take more than a couple of days. That's when his mind started to wander, wondering why you had asked for his help in the first place, as poltergeists were one of your specialties and it was the type of case that you could do in your sleep, but yet, you asked him for help.

Closing up your laptop, you grabbed it bringing it over to your bed, before going underneath it and grabbing your duffel. You started packing all of the essentials for a case that would only take you a couple of days. The case was an easy one, one that you could easily do in your sleep, but yet, you called Sam Winchester to help you. There was a small twinge of regret after you got off the phone with him, and you debated back and forth as you packed to call him back up again and tell him, 'Never mind, I got this Sammy.' But deep down, you wanted the company; you wanted to be with someone that treated you like an equal unlike your boyfriend.

"Going on a case?" Your boyfriend asked from behind you.

You turned to look at him for a moment, and he was leaning against the doorway, staring at you as you packed. "Yes," you said, plainly. Even if you weren't going on a case, you felt like you didn't need to explain anything to him.

"Where's the case? I can join you," he offered. But his offer wasn't a genuine one, as the only reason he offered to go with you was to try and make up the argument to you in some way. But you weren't in the mood for any of his gestures.

"Tulsa," you said. "I already called another hunter to help me."

"What hunter?" He asked, making his way to the bed so he could sit down on the edge like he usually did whenever you were attempting to pack for a case.

You looked at him again, annoyed that he kept interrupting your packing. He didn't need to know what hunter was going with you, and he didn't know where the case was going to be. But yet, you felt like you needed to tell him in order to get him off your back. "Sam Winchester," you said simply, and you saw his eyes grow wide.

"Sam Winchester?" He questioned. "Really?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with Sam Winchester?" You asked, curious as to what he had to say about him, as you knew he had never met him. But there were times when you and him would be spending time with fellow hunters, and he would claim that he knew Sam; a bold statement that, whenever said, you tried to hold back a laugh.

“Nothing it’s just…the Winchester’s tend to get a lot of their partners killed,” he said. Your brows furrowed, not only because you were confused on where he heard that, but you’ve hunted with Sam a few times already, and your boyfriend never brought that up to you before.

“I’ve hunted with Sam a few times now, and I’m still alive,” you said, zippering up your duffel. “He’s a great hunting partner, very careful.”

“For now, you’re alive and for now he’s being careful. What happens when he bails on you to save himself?” Your boyfriend asked, his tone excitable now.

“I don’t know because I know for a fact that won’t happen,” your tone was serious and stern, defensive. Despite not knowing Sam for a long time, you trusted him more on hunts than your own boyfriend. “I trust Sam.”

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 1

#Dean Winchester x you #Dean Winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader #the 15 year problem

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fioiswriting · 2 months

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The sea and the fire

“Fire and water looked so lovely together. It was a pity they destroyed each other by nature.” - R.F Kuang

Summary : when you're married to your childhood sweetheart who becomes your enemy and you get lost in the terrible maze of politics.

[previous chapter] [masterlist]

Rating : None for now, will be explicit 18+ later MDNI

Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader (There will be some Cregan Stark x Reader later)

TW : none for now except not proofread. TW will be added as the story progresses.

Words count : 4408

AN : Hi everyone!! I hope you're all doing well. So, MONTHS later, I've finally decided to post chapter 2. Sorry for the wait.

[About this story This fanfiction is inspired by an RP I started with my girlfriend (@irmawrites, go check her work) in early 2023, which is still ongoing. My girlfriend writes for her OC (who is the daughter of Viserys and Alicent) as well as for Aemond and Cregan, while I write for my OC (who is the daughter of Rhaenyra) as well as for Aegon and Cole mostly. This fanfiction doesn't cover exactly the same events, I've changed some things, added some others and omitted some. But it follows the main storyline. The character of Irma is a nod to my girlfriend and is based on another of her OCs (Alicent's niece). I'm keen to turn this story into fanfiction and I hope you'll like it! ❤️ I know there's a ton of fanfiction out there based on the Aemond x Rhaenyra's daughter trope. If you don't like it, if you feel uncomfortable, or if you've read too much of it, I'd suggest you read another fanfiction written by one of the many talented authors on this platform ❤️ The story will unfold in several arcs, with the first arc building up the relationship between the reader and Aemond. The tone is therefore lighter. The following arcs (which I can't wait to get to!!) will gradually introduce a lot more angst (my favourite thing to write). The tone will be radically different. Overall, the fanfiction will sometimes be based on elements of the book, and sometimes on the show, with my own interpretations. Please bear in mind that my dialogue will sound very "modern" because I struggle to write medieval dialogue in English, as it's not my mother tongue.]

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

After all that talk, ENJOY <3

Chapter 2 : Familiarity

There was a sense of renewed familiarity.

You had regained your childhood bedroom and with it your landmarks. Of course, you still missed Dragonstone. And that could seem strange to some - Dragonstone was just a damp cave, a pile of stones perched on a rock. You were in King's Landing, now. You lived in opulence, in a royal comfort unmatched by the perch above the sea where you had spent most of your youth.

But Dragonstone had a charm you couldn't find in King's Landing. Perhaps it was the stillness of the library where you spent all your time, lost among the scrolls of parchment and the thick tomes, or perhaps it was the sound of the crashing waves that rocked you on stormy nights, you weren't sure.

But somehow a sense of familiarity had returned. Your old room hadn't changed much, despite Alicent's questionable alterations to the decoration of the Red Keep. You had found an old toy in the shape of a dragon, and even some old paper on which you had practised your precise handwriting under the strict gaze of a stern Septa when you were a child. It was a memory frozen in time, a kind of testimony to the past. A room that reflected the little girl you were when you left King's Landing.

But perhaps you could change it to your liking, to reflect the young woman you had become. Perhaps it was a way of keeping you occupied before you left again. After all, your mother had promised that your stay would only be temporary. Just time to sort out some inheritance issues. Time to try and heal your family's wounds. Time to secure your family's future. As if the hope of you all rested on your shoulders; the only guarantee that your family wouldn't descend into a bloody escalation, or something like that.

And yet, even though you'd only been here a short time, you'd already gotten into trouble, and it was Aemond himself who had to rescue you. You hated the idea.

You hated the fact that he'd come to your aid.

You hated the fact that you owed him, that you were indebted to him.

Fortunately, your little escapade hadn't been reported - you didn't want to disappoint your mother, or see the reproachful look on her face, even though you were aware that she might not be in the best position to make a comment. You were close to your mother. You were her eldest. You were her only daughter. She cherished and loved you, and you knew you could share everything with her. But you cherished your secret freedom, and you feared that her concern for her only daughter would give her the bad idea of assigning you closer supervision.

You didn't need a chaperone. You valued what little freedom your condition as a daughter afforded you.

As you slipped under the sheets, your thoughts kept returning to Aemond. The way he'd protected you, the way he'd carried you on his shoulder - it was humiliating, you weren't an object. And the way you had planted a kiss on his cheek. An impulsive act. A foolish act. You had to admit that you weren't averse to doing it again.

It just didn't make sense. Why had he come looking for you when he'd never answered your letters? He'd probably felt superior, after calling you and your brothers bastards, he'd probably decided you weren't good enough to be his friend anymore. All this time, all these years, you'd been waiting for a word from him - a mere reply to the letters you'd sent. It never came. You concluded that your friendship had ended, in silence, after all you had done for him; after reassuring him, after holding his hand while the maester tried to repair the broken flesh on his face as best he could.

Had he really been your friend for even one day, or had it all been a facade, a role he'd played? Had he ever been sincere?

You were furious.

Rhaenyra had stroked your hair through every disappointment that gripped your heart like the loving mother she was. Daemon - Daemon had soothed you in his own way, telling you again and again that Aemond wasn't a good man, and that you would save your heart by forgetting him.

But now he had come looking for you. Something had changed. He had taken a step in your direction. You were lost. You were angry, but it was not just anger. There was something else underneath that pile of confusion and resentment. His approach unsettled you. Every step he took towards you, every word he said, sent a whirlwind of conflicting emotions through you. A burning curiosity. An irresistible attraction.

You hated yourself for thinking it, but maybe your betrothal wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe you could retrieve the complicity of your childhood.

Maybe it had never really disappeared.

In the early hours of the morning, the smell of warm bread tickled your nose even before you felt the warmth of the sun's rays through your chamber window. You rolled onto your side to steal a few more minutes of comfort, stifling a grunt into your pillow. You waited fatefully for the moment when Celia or Jeyne would come and wake you.

"Wake up you lazy groundhog, you've got things to tell me!"

But the high-pitched, overly cheerful voice that echoed around your room wasn't Celia's, and it certainly wasn't Jeyne's. You sat up immediately, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over you, your fingers rubbing your tired eyes to make sure you weren't dreaming.

Irma Hightower was standing in your room, in a gown more extravagant than ever. You wanted to throw yourself into her arms.

"It was usually me who overslept in the morning and you who had to wake me up," Irma exclaimed, placing the tray she carried awkwardly under her arm on the table with a loud clatter, causing the tea to overflow from the cup and drip onto the wooden table. "But I reckon that sneaking out seems tiring." She punctuated his remark with a knowing wink before dusting off her dress as if she'd just worked in the straw or done the most strenuous physical labour in the world.

Still too sleepy to make sense of your friend's words, you frowned as you looked around for your two handmaidens, the ones who woke you up every morning, helped you get dressed and brought you your meal. "Where are -"

"I dismissed them for the rest of the morning," Irma replied without letting you finish the sentence. That explained the tray and the near disaster. "But here's your breakfast. Gods, did you know a tray was thatheavy? " She paused briefly, barely giving you time to wake up properly.

Irma Hightower was a tornado. She swept away everything in her path - she carried away hearts and minds with equal ease, leaving a whirlwind of chaos behind her. Wherever she went, she stirred the air with unbridled energy, forcing others to adapt to her frenetic pace or be wiped out by her determination. But it would be a lie to say you weren't happy to see her. You sat down on the edge of the bed and stretched, your arms reaching for the ceiling before tilting your head to one side. A smile curved the corner of your lips as you watched your friend. You wondered what Irma was doing in your room in the early hours of the morning, especially when, last you heard, she was supposed to be in Oldtown furthering her education.

To tell the truth, you might have had an idea why she was here. You just didn't want to subject yourself to your friend's interrogation - some secrets should remain your secrets.

And what you'd done yesterday was one of them.

"'So?" she asked with a mixture of overflowing curiosity and impetuosity, her brown curls twirling around her face.

"So what?" you sighed as you went behind your dressing screen to remove your nightgown. You slipped into a flowing ocean-blue dress adorned with pearls and embroidery - one of your favourite gowns, a creation that reminded you of your favourite element: the sea.

Unlike your brothers, you weren't made of fire and blood. You were made of sea and storm, and you knew deep down that this was perhaps hypocritical - your own appearance reminded you of it every day. But it was what your heart had always told you, and you'd come to believe it, too. The feeling of your feet in the water and the breeze on your face, its salty taste against your lips, was the one that brought you the most comfort.

"So what happened yesterday ?” Irma insisted. Her voice grew impatient. "I saw you.”

But you ignored her, busy wriggling to reach the lacing at the back of your dress. In vain. You weren't flexible enough. "Since you've decided to play the handmaid today, help me get dressed," you replied, appearing on one side of the screen, your hands gripping the fabric tightly, your back to her. Irma rose with a long sigh - it was just for show, you knew - and came over to you. You smiled mischievously. You had to admit that you enjoyed seeing her in this role, so opposite to who she really was. You wondered what her time in Oldtown had been like; whether she'd been treated like the spoilt brat she truly was, or whether, on the contrary, she'd had to learn patience, faith and discipline - all qualities that didn't characterise her.

"I could actually keep you as my lady in waiting, you know. You'd be good for that. Forced to follow me everywhere, I'd love that."

You didn't need to see her to know that she rolled her eyes. " I am the Queen's niece. I was made for more than that."

When her fingers became tangled in the lacing of your dress, she spoke again, her voice caressing the back of your ear as she tugged at the lacing with a little more force: "You haven't answered my question."

How could you forget that Irma was so perceptive? And above all, how could you forget that when Irma wanted something, it was impossible for her not to get it? You weren't going to get away. She would insist, until you fell for her angelic pout and her round eyes that tried to win you over.

It reminded you of your shared youth - the times you spent together, swapping secrets and gossip, talking about your joys and sorrows. You had been inseparable before you were forced to return to Dragonstone, and she to Oldtown.

"Nothing happened. At least nothing like you may think," you admitted, turning to smooth the front of your dress. You whirled around, the fabric rising gently around you like a bluish wave. "How do I look?"

"I wouldn't describe being carried around like a sack of flour on your dark uncle's shoulder as nothing. Especially in your family."

Irma inspected your outfit, her eyes expertly examining you from top to bottom and then from bottom to top, looking for the slightest detail that would have spoiled her work. She brushed away a stray strand of hair that had fallen across your face.

"Did he kiss you?" Her eyebrows arched, her mouth forming a playful pout of false surprise. She was clearly determined to decipher your every secret, to expose them. You hesitated for a moment, to cast doubt, to let her imagine more - but you were afraid of the repercussions this might have on you. You weren't sure that Irma knew how to hold her tongue. And you didn't want to risk exposing yourself to Aemond's irritation over false rumours. Not when you'd planned to play with him a bit; to prove to him that you had the upper hand, that you could have him wrapped around your little finger and drive him mad. You were still suspicious of him. You hadn't really figured him out yet. You just knew he'd changed since the last time you'd seen him, but you weren't sure how much.

"No, he didn't kiss me," you repeated, putting the same emphasis on the word as your friend. You walked over to the table to sip your still steaming cup of tea. You could feel Irma's round eyes on your back - she was waiting for you to say more. She probably had a dozen unanswered questions: why had Aemond brought you back like this? Where had you been? Who had you been with? What had you done? But you didn't answer right away, biting into the crusty bread.

"He just... came to fetch me," you finally admitted between two bites, your mouth half full - it was a far cry from the princess manners in which you'd been raised. Sitting on your bed, Irma stared at you with her brown eyes - the same as her aunt's. "I was with Aegon. In King's Landing. And I got lost."

That was enough. Irma didn't need to know everything; after all, it wasn't a lie if you only omitted certain details that you deemed relatively unimportant.

Or that Irma didn't need to know.

But the revelation provoked a silence. Your friend didn't answer immediately. Her eyes narrowed, revealing a fine line between her eyebrows, and her lips pursed into a bitter pout. She looked troubled, her fingers twitching in her lap. "I didn't know you were close to Aegon."

If you didn't know her so well, you wouldn't have detected the note of reproach in her voice. Was it jealousy? Was your friend jealous of the time you spent with Aegon?

You weren't sure you understood. He was married - and more importantly, as you remembered, Irma hated him for his debauchery and the alcohol he drank to excess.

But this was no time to argue, and you preferred to play it safe. There would be plenty of time for your investigation later, when Irma's suspicions would be at rest. "He's my uncle and... he suggested he show me the streets of King's Landing because I was feeling bored."

And the idea seemed liberating at the time. A moment of stolen freedom, away from the court, away from your duties. Where you were no longer the model princess, the paragon of virtue, but just another girl, lost in anonymity. You weren't sure she understood - she'd always loved the court, the gowns and the politics. You too, of course. It would be a lie to say you weren't made for it; for the life your status as a princess could offer you. You cherished the comforts and loved the responsibilities that came with your role. But sometimes those same responsibilities – and duty above all - stifled you. You needed solitude. To be somewhere else.

"It's dangerous. You could have been harmed!" Irma said, crossing her arms over her chest with an air of concern and annoyance. "You can't just follow a man like Aegon into the city," she sighed.

Some truth was hidden in her words, and you were aware of your lack of rationality, of the stupidity of your foolishness. The danger you had put yourself in, too, for if Aemond hadn't intervened... You didn't want to think about it. The dirty hands and lecherous looks those men gave you still made you shudder. All those risks for an illusory feeling of freedom, wasn't it a high price to pay?

Aemond had come for you. The humiliation still burned on your cheeks.

"Lost in your thoughts?" Irma asked impatiently, offering you her arm as if she'd waited too long for you to come out of your reverie, "thinking about your Prince Charming again?"

You gave her a little tap on the arm, your eyes raised to the sky at the broad smile that stretched her lips, but you accepted her invitation anyway. "Fine, let's go. I heard that they are training this morning. And I know you're not indifferent to Dornish charm." You winked at her. And arm in arm, you and Irma walked through the corridors of the Red Keep towards the courtyard.

Aemond's movements were precise and swift. Faced with Ser Criston's Morningstar, he moved skilfully, as nimble as a cat. You leaned against the parapet of the ramparts; your eyes riveted on the two silhouettes that seemed to be dancing in the courtyard amidst the small crowd that had gathered around them. Irma didn't miss a moment of the spectacle, and you wondered if there was a man she didn't find charming. Aemond, probably. You knew she didn't bear any affection for him - he was too serious, too stern. Too scary, too.

"Did you get tired of Oldtown, is that why you're here?" you asked teasingly, glancing briefly at Irma.

She leaned towards you as if to share a secret, not taking her eyes off the show the two men were offering. "They didn't want me anymore," she confided. "I used to drive the maesters and the septas mad. It was amusing."

You should have known better. Irma was too stubborn and brash to be around men and women who had dedicated their lives to knowledge. She was intelligent, there was no denying that, but she lacked the patience and diligence that the study of texts demanded. Though she had spent her childhood in King's Landing, perfecting her courtly education at her aunt's side, her rebellious attitude had sent her straight back to Oldtown. And then, she had threatened the Maesters and the Septas - she belonged at Court and she was convinced of it.

"And how is Daeron?"

"As courteous and charming as ever," she replied.

Aemond disarmed Cole and everyone applauded; including Jace and Luke, who you could recognise in the crowd. Your betrothed's eyes shifted from the spot he was staring at in the crowd - your brothers? - and looked up at you for a moment. You wondered if Aemond had seen you, if he had felt your gaze on him, and if that was why he had become fiercer in his attacks. A strange sensation arose in your belly, as if a swarm of butterflies were fluttering in your stomach, making your heart beat faster. You forced yourself to suppress your emotions, which you blamed on all the time you'd spent away from Dragonstone. You refused to admit that it was Aemond's gaze that you sought more than any other, especially after the events of the previous day. Especially when you could still feel his skin against yours, his firm hands around your body, his face just a few inches from yours.

You wondered what had possessed you to kiss him on the cheek.

You wanted to play with him, that was certain. But you refused to subject your heart to the whims of love. Not after the heartache you'd felt when you found out he'd forgotten you so easily.

It was nothing serious.

You met Aemond's gaze. The intensity of his lilac eye had this very capacity to send shivers down your spine. He didn't even crack a smile, and looked away as if nothing had happened.

"I'll see you later," Irma said, squeezing your arm, before turning on her heels to - presumably - find some male company. Once you were alone, you walked down the steps that led from the ramparts to the courtyard. Your steps instinctively brought you to where Aemond was standing, ready to sheathe his sword.

If he seemed surprised to see you, he didn't show it. His icy eye rested on you, unreadable as ever.

"Lady Strong."

"We should talk," you began, ignoring the unpleasant way he had just addressed you. Lady Strong. The nickname left a sting of humiliation, and under normal circumstances you would have reacted. You would have defended yourself, you would have thought of something witty to retort - but today you had decided to take a step towards peace. You had decided to show that you hadn't come here with any animosity, even though everything inside you was screaming to make him swallow his insolence.

"There is nothing to talk about," he replied mechanically. Cold. Distant. Disinterested. Syllables sharp and icy.

But yes, there were a thousand things to talk about; the betrothal that would lead to your certain future marriage, the events of yesterday, the letters he had never answered, his hostile and cold attitude towards you. There were all these things and more, but neither of you seemed to know how or where to begin.

"About yesterday -"

"I haven't spoken a word to anyone. Your little secret is safe with me. You can rest assured, niece."

That's not what you meant. It wasn't that you wanted to talk about - it was everything around it; it was the reasons, it was how he had found out, it was the consequences, it was the kiss on his cheek, it was the thick tension between you that you were sure he had felt too. It was all these things.

You took a step towards him. Suddenly you felt yourself bubbling. And as if you'd grown wings, you closed the distance between you without looking away.

"Why?" you asked, your tone more urgent. You wanted to push him over the edge. You wanted him to admit what you knew for a fact that he would never be able to. "You could expose me. Tell everyone about my little escapades. Make me lose all credibility. End our betrothal." You paused, leaning your body towards him, your warmth mingling with his.

You felt him hold his breath. He tensed, straightening his neck, tilting his head slightly to the side to watch you.

"Why exactly would I do that, Lady Strong?"

Because you hate me, you were tempted to reply. Because you hate me, just as you hate my brothers. Because you cut me off all those years ago, without a word. And despite all the affinities that could bring you together, despite the fond memories of your shared childhood and your closeness, despite the love you harboured for him, you were loyal to your siblings, like he was to his. Whatever you did, you would always be associated with them. Your family. So wasn't it normal for him to see you as an extension of the hatred he felt for them?

At your silence, he continued, this time in High Valyrian: "I am not the one who despises the other. You know that."

Hate was nothing more than a form of passion.

But you weren't sure it was hate you felt for Aemond - no, the hate would come later, stronger, hotter than ever. For now, you felt disappointment and a form of betrayal after the friendship that had bound you together for more than a decade.

"I am not the one who is determined to make you my enemy."

Enemy, like water to fire. Trying to destroy each other by nature.

"And yet, you treat me like one," you replied. Sharpness staining your voice.

He let out a hm. He was still staring at you; the sensation was almost disturbing. He took a step in your direction, violating your breathing space. You had to lift your head to maintain eye contact. Then he leaned towards you, the corner of his lips turned up slightly in a smirk.

"I wouldn't have come to rescue you if you were my enemy."

The words barely out of his mouth, he straightened and took a step back, giving you the courtesy to walk away as your cheeks turned red. You didn't need him to remind you of what had happened yesterday. The memory was still frozen in your mind, clear and intact. The ghost of his touch like a burn. You wondered if he felt the same; if he thought about your lips on his cheek, if they had left an invisible, indelible mark on his skin, like his fingers on yours.

You had to change the subject. Quickly. Before you got caught at your own game.

Your hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword on the table beside the training area. You lifted it. It felt heavy in your hand, still warm from Aemond's grip.

It was strange, this power in your hand. A weapon that could take a life. Too big and unsuitable for your delicate fingers, but fascinating.

"Teach me."

"No," he replied immediately, following your every move with his icy gaze, as if he feared you might hurt yourself. You rested the heavy sword on the wooden table before turning. You approached him again.

"Daemon taught me how to use a dagger. At least he taught me where to aim to hurt." You flatten your hand against his chest, just below his ribcage. His body stiffens beneath your palm. "He said it was to protect me from dangerous men." Your gaze travelled from your hand to his eyes.

Aemond chuckled. He didn't try to push you away. On the contrary, he kept your hand pressed against him. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, and he guided your hand to his jugular, where you could feel his heart throbbing against your fingertips.

"First lesson: that is where you aim to kill." Caught off guard, you tried to withdraw your hand, but Aemond held it in place, your fingertips on his skin, your eyes both searching and challenging each other. The air was charged. Tense. Like a cloud before a storm. You held your breath. "But you wouldn't dare hurt a fly."

He released your wrist and gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to step back until your back hit the table. He leaned in. His face so close to yours that you could almost feel his warm breath melting into yours. A few inches and you could close the gap between your lips. A few inches and -

"Well, niece. I hope to see you for dinner. And, of course, I expect you to behave."

With that he released you. With that, he turned on his heel.

He stopped. And without looking back, he added: "And please. Don't make a habit of me saving you.

Well, you were evenly matched.

#aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #the sea and the fire

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sailoryooons · 8 months

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I am going to say something that has really been bothering me that not everyone may agree with, which is totally okay, everyone is entirely valid to disagree with me: There is a fast fashion problem in fandom, specifically fanfiction.

Disclaimer: This conversation is not about broadly writing the same tropes, genres, and ideas. I am not talking about people writing fics with similar themes or the same name. I am specifically talking about people writing fics that are very obviously heavily influenced by other fics. This is not me talking about: I wrote __ character as enemies to lovers vampires and so did this person so they stole. Please do not trivialize this conversation with instances that are very obviously not what I'm talking about.

As someone who exists in the fanfiction space, I want to express what I have seen specifically in this space in my own experience, my mutuals experiences, and random experiences I have seen on my dash.

Recently, it seems like there is a reoccurring theme of writers (often new writers) taking "inspiration" from fanfics that they love and value and essentially creating their own version of that story to the point it is bordering on plagiarism. I say bordering on plagiarism because while people may not be copying line for line or entire scenes in order, you can tell that it is a re-arranged duplicate of another story.

I am not talking about writing similar tropes and dynamics. No one owns a trope or a dynamic. I am specifically talking about people taking the plots, scenes, concept and core of fanfics and recreating it and changing some plot elements or placing it in a different alternate universe and calling it their own, when at the heart of that fanfic, it is taken from someone else's creation.

This to me, reads like people who read a work, fall in love with it, but think 'this is easy to do, I can do this myself' and they end up making a replica of a fic that you can tell is a replica of another fic, despite adding some changes. Nine times out of ten, these inspired fics lack the obvious thought and heart the original writer put into it.

Which, begs the question: How is this different than fanfic writers taking inspiration from media (i.e. published books, movies, music, shows)? Because fanfiction is meant to replicate a specific something from published media. It is not meant to duplicate an already established fanfiction contribution.

I know that the nuance between that line is very ambiguous and it brings up the discourse on 'should there be fanfiction of fanfiction' - to which my response is it is, generally, pretty obvious what the difference between being inspired by a fic and copying a fic are.

In the last few months, I have lost count of how many times I or mutuals have a) discovered someone has been writing a story based off of their fic 2) have been asked to use an already written work to make their own or 3) already have started writing works modeled after an already written work and in hindsight asked the author if they could keep doing so (this third instance almost always happens after someone accuses them of stealing another work).

This feels like the fast fashion industry. Someone finds a story that is popular (whatever that means to the individual), takes all of the elements they think makes the story works, rearranges it, posts it as their own and and says they were 'inspired' (if they credit the original story at all).

This is why so many works that readers are coming across feel like they are the same thing. It is the same A + B + C = D over and over and over again, because people are outright just taking what they think works from other stories and using it.

Again - I am not talking about people who come across a trope, AU, genre or dynamic they like and add something similar to their story. I am talking about the people who are very intentionally and obviously writing the same exact fic with their own 'twist' (whatever that means).

Why is this a problem (beyond the fact that it's essentially roundabout plagiarism)? You're taking the heart, soul, and creativity someone poured into something and posting it on your own and robbing it of the originality, the essence, and the intention behind it. You cannot replicate a writer's feelings and obvious emotions that they have poured into the original work, and it shows. And it is gutting to the original authors who are finding remixes of their work across the fanfiction space.

Please consider whether or not you are inspired by a story or if you are redoing it in your own image. If you find yourself worried enough about your story that you feel like you have to publicly credit someone to avoid scrutiny, perhaps the question needs to be asked of whether you're just redoing what someone else already wrote.

Please do not confuse inspiration and recreation. 9 out of 10 authors will love that they inspired you to write, but would not love to find that you wrote a fic inspired by them that is a rearranged or hollowed-out version of the fic they wrote.

The fanfic space wants and needs more writers, but it does not need people unwilling to create their own art, instead taking bits and pieces from others and calling it a success.

Also adding: This problem also directly contributes to 'smaller' writers or more niche (often queer and bipoc) stories not getting the hype, readership, or recognition they deserve. On more than one occasion I've seen stories that had explicitly queer or bipoc characters taken and turned into heteronormative or white-presenting stories.

Note: This 1000% goes for actual visual art as well, including gifs etc. in fandom but I'm not well-versed there and thus, did not include it.

#i genuinely have very much like been pushed to the edge this week #and i feel like getting this off of my chest #and i don't think i am crazy but maybe i am #this is also a VERY broad rant of what i'm talking about and does not cover all the nuances of this

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 4 months

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Lens Flare

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: Over the past three months, your career has grown by leaps and bounds. Yet at the same time, you can't help feeling dissatisfied. A lot of your feelings stem from what you did the last time you saw him. Jake Seresin. Lieutenant Jake Seresin. It had been fun, in the hangar, under the dead of night - passionate and hot. So too had been the video you filmed and the pictures you'd snapped. But hindsight, well, maybe there is a reason why they say "Hindsight is Twenty-Twenty". Because Jake hasn't called, despite how badly you want him to. A new assignment in North Island might have the potential to change everything for Jake and our Shutterbug, including how they approach everything they hold dear.

Warnings: Once again, this is just some porn with plot. The feral plot bunnies ran away with me, I fear.

Word Count: 8502

A/N: Hiya everyone! I'm baaack! Enjoy this sequel to my fic Photo Finish. It's just as smutty and gorgeous as the last one!

This fic is brought to you all by the constant support of @horseshoegirl, @sarahsmi13s and @desert-fern. You're all my heroes and I love you to bits for keeping me from ditching this story before it even started! I couldn't have written it without you!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

An old photography teacher of yours once told you never to submit photos with lens flares to any publication, magazine or contest. He considered lens flares the biggest mistake for a rookie photographer. He’d declared, quite adamantly in front of your entire class, using your pictures as examples, how lens flares made photos look cheap and low quality. Given his dislike of the trick of light, he’s also taught you a plethora of tricks to prevent them. Over the many, many years since you left his class, you’ve started to relax and deviate from the rigid rules of photography he once taught you. For a large portion of your career, you've been photographing subjects which cannot be posed in a studio, which helps. Every snick and whir of your camera feels like you are letting go of rules and embracing your art.

You’ve always heard wildlife photography has a tendency to relax photographers' attitudes. It’s a truth you’re very thankful you had the chance to experience. After all, there are no rules when it’s just you, your camera and what feels like the entire world a hair's-breadth away from your camera lens. It’s hard to be frustrated with the sun glancing across your camera lens when it highlights fox kits gamboling in dewy spring grass. Or elk on a frost-bitten winter morning with clouds of their breath dissipating into the clear air. Those pictures were once-in-a-lifetime shots, perfect in their imperfection and richer with the sparkling halos of light.

Being back in New York after years of traveling has made you appreciate the photographs you took even more. Now you feel like you can fully appreciate the wilderness in them. New York is wild in an entirely different way. It’s louder, greyer, more populous, yet just as vibrant. In New York, you’ve been able to capture human nature, snapping minuscule interactions between people who are always in a hurry and always moving. But you also have to work to make enough money to fund your passions. Not having to travel helped bring some stability to your passions. But of all of the things you thought you'd be photographing, fashion models and clothes were never an option. In a way, photographing fashion and fashion models is capturing another kind of wild animal in your lens sights. Models and designers are wholly proprietary and protective over what they consider theirs, whether their clothing or their aesthetic appearance. You’ve had to shoot and reshoot, as well as touch up your photos more than you've ever had to before. Of course, in this case, your primary objective is to make the models and the clothes they are wearing look otherworldly and incredible.

At first, the thrill of doing something new was alluring and exciting. But after a year, trapped in New York City, doing the same thing and working with the same people day in and day out, you can’t help but miss wildlife photography. It's like a persistent ache below your breast bone, something calling you back to the life you lived before. You're missing traveling in arid deserts and verdant forests even more now. And then the US Navy came calling. Now, while you miss the wilderness, you think you might just miss something else, more.

It’s late, half-past three in the early hours of the morning, and you’re sitting out on the balcony attached to your overpriced shoebox of an apartment. You’ve found yourself sitting out here more and more as the summer heat turns into the cool of fall. Your balcony is so small there’s only room for a single chair, and your feet are propped up on the wrought iron railing. New York’s the city which never sleeps and the crackle and groan of the city resonates around you. Your oldest camera, a Canon you bought in college with the pennies and dollars you’d saved from tips earned from waitressing, sits on your lap. All night, you’ve been trying and failing to chase away how unsettled you’ve been feeling by peering through the viewfinder and trying to see things from a different perspective.

But it hasn’t worked. You've been feeling discomfited of late, unsettled and restless. Maybe your listlessness has something to do with your next assignment. You can’t lie, not even to yourself no matter how hard you try. It has everything to do with your next assignment. You should be excited. You should be asleep, because at least if you were asleep, the time would pass sooner. For once, you will not be photographing a new designer collection. In the morning, you're flying to San Diego to take pictures at North Island Naval Base for a follow-up piece sanctioned by the US Navy. Your team is joining you, which should be a comfort, albeit slight and slim. There will be more planes to photograph and possibly shots you can take from within the cockpit or from up in the air.

It took three months to publish the article on the US Navy’s newest hotshot aviation squadron. There had been countless revisions and rounds of approval with the US Navy's Office of Public Relations to greenlight the endeavor. It's been exactly the same amount of time since you met the Dagger Squadron, too - only three months after you edited the photographs, focusing maybe a little too much on one face in particular. Three months after you took the biggest risk of your life, professionally and personally. Three months after you made a sex tape with a client. It doesn’t help that he was a memorable client, too - and how you haven’t been able to forget him.

It's only been two weeks since the magazine hit newsstands with your picture of the Daggers in all their finery near one of the jets on the front cover. Everywhere you go, it seems you see their faces - his face. Your phone has been ringing off the hook ever since. Everyone wants you to take professional portraits of their clients. But your phone has never had the voice you so desperately want to hear on the other end of the line. It's a nationally distributed magazine, after all, and like everything nowadays, published both physically and digitally. The magazine had also mailed special copies to each member of the squadron which was your subject. So he has to have seen it. So why hasn't he called? It's the one question on your mind. It may be the only question on your mind, but it's far from the only thought in your mind.

Chances are, he doesn’t want to talk to you at all. After all, why would he want to?

You couldn't silence the thoughts if you tried - and you have tried, repeatedly. Getting drunk made you maudlin, going out had you seeing his face in every stranger’s and getting laid had made you wish you were with him rather than anyone else. Over and over again you’ve found yourself thinking about those last few moments with him, agonizing over every detail, from the kisses and touches to the last time you saw him. Maybe you hadn’t been entirely clear in your note to him. You can recall the note as if you wrote it yesterday, the note you'd affixed to the flash drive you handed him.

Sure, you told him to call you when he was in New York next. But really, you wanted him to call you, period. Or text you. Something, anything to show you’re lingering in his memory in the same way he lingers in yours. You thought your dalliance had been memorable enough. You hoped you were memorable enough. After all, it's not every day you let a man fuck you up against his jet and record it, forget a man you’ve known only for a few days. Maybe it’s a little silly how attached you’ve gotten to him, given the short time frame, after what should have been completely meaningless sex.

But it’s not meaningless anymore, at least not to you, after how many times you've seen the video since you last saw him. Your camera hadn’t hidden a single thing when you made your little home movie all those nights ago. You’ve seen how his hands had been gentle, his eyes soft. Your entire countenance had been beckoning, beguiling in the throes of passion, needy in a way you’ve never let yourself be before with anyone else. He’s also spoiled you for any other man on the planet - or at least in New York. You haven’t hit the same heights since him, and a part of you is sure you never will again. And now you have to enter the lion’s den, venture right into enemy territory with your head held high and only a camera to shield your too-hungry gaze.

A thump on the railing drags you out of your reverie. Your neighbor’s escape-artist black cat makes himself at home on the railing, paws flexing as his tail lashes through the humid night air. Like you’re in a dream, you lift up the camera and peer through the viewfinder. Tonight, everything seems to be coming back to lens flares. The neon lights fracture in your camera lens, softening the visage of the cat on the railing, green eyes luminescent. With reflexes born of years of wildlife photography, partially stunted after nearly a year of fashion photography, you depress the shutter with a soft snick and a near-silent whir. What you’re left with is a long exposed image - neon lights blurring in the background as one shines behind the cat’s head. Even his fur is blurred, only green eyes in focus, piercing into your soul. It’s perfect, as expected, and you hope it’s an omen for the days to come while you’re in San Diego.

Green eyes, different from those of your neighbor’s cat, haunt you, even more, the following day as you pile out of one of the minivans the studio rented for you and your team, as well as all of your equipment, on the tarmac at North Island. The humid, sticky air stinks of jet fuel and salt water. The wind brushes past you, snatching at your hair and ripping your sun hat right off your head. It's hot as it brushes by, providing no relief to the insistent heat.

Your team just laughs as you chase, bedraggled and exhausted, after your hat. The wind pushes you towards the hangars at the end of the tarmac, colossal doors thrown open while rows of jets stand gleaming. For the first time, you think you understand why Jake is so in love with being up in the air in his jet, how close to the elements he must be with adrenaline coursing through his system. You raise the camera resting against your chest, leaving your hat to fly where it wants, because you have to capture this.

When your camera focuses, you start snapping with abandon, capturing the sun-drenched metal and heat waves rising off of the pavement. You’re not sure what pictures the editors will select to go with the article the journalist is going to write. Regardless, you’re stealing the time to take some filler shots now, when it’s bright out still, and blindingly golden outside. Your team is far behind you, still clustered by the cars, as you trail between the shining metal hawks, cockpits closed and emblazoned with names and callsigns. Your heart stutters in your chest when you see his jet, the text dark and fresh, announcing he’s been promoted. So, he's still operating out of Naval Air Station North Island.

Faintly, you can hear voices emanating from one of the open hangars, so you creep closer, your old Canon camera clutched to your chest like it can protect you. Twenty-four of the US Navy's best aviators are saturated in gold, settled in creaking plastic chairs. Jake’s at the podium, laser pointer in hand, completely relaxed as he talks about things you couldn’t understand if you tried. The light glints across his face, catching angelically on the burnished strands of his hair. A singular fluffy lock has broken free of his hair gel’s hold, trailing softly across his forehead. It makes your fingers ache to push it back into place. But you can’t, because you won’t interrupt or embarrass him. So you take pictures instead, breathlessly, silently, framing the aviators limned in gold like they’re deities waiting to go to war.

You’re not sure when it happens, but he sees you - bright green eyes colliding with yours, a nearly imperceptible frown creasing his brow before the skin smooths. He doesn’t look happy to see you. In a way, it makes sense. You were just a one-night stand, something sexy to indulge in - not someone he'd want to keep forever. The look lances through you, skewering you in place as the wind and sun stick your blouse to your back. He doesn’t acknowledge you but for one curiously blank look, and you’re mortified as you walk silently back to your crew, who are now grouped around the jets in awe.

As expected, Adam and Lea, your stylists extraordinaire, are already scribbling away. Lea's flicking through the tablet in her hands. If you were a betting woman, you'd bet good money they are already planning outfits to take advantage of the blue, gold and white theme of North Island.

“Hey, Boss!” Amy, your assistant, is nearly bouncing in place with her excitement. You're not sure how she's so energetic despite the heat and the hours of travel. “Our liaison should be joining us soon. They'll give us a tour of the base and then show us where we'll be setting up shop this week.”

She doesn’t notice how frozen your smile feels and how mechanic your nods are. All you can think about is Jake. He must have known, right? What are the chances he didn’t know you were coming to North Island to take more pictures? There must have been some briefing or notice informing the aviators why you're here. After all, you’re here to photograph the Dagger Squadron. Then why was his face so blank when he saw you earlier? Thinking about him is driving you crazy, but you're not sure you can stop. All you want is to know whether he could ever feel as strongly for you as you do for him.

When your liaison walks up ten minutes later, you’re pleasantly surprised to see you have not one liaison, but two. Neither of your Navy appointed liaisons is Jake, something which you should have expected, but you were still hoping for regardless. Lieutenant Commanders Trace and Floyd are smiling from ear-to-ear as they greet your team by name. Lea and Katie seem especially enthused at seeing the soft-spoken bespectacled WSO again. Lieutenant Commander Trace is her same unflappable, cool, collected self. Her presence and dry sense of humor has you in stitches as you and your team follow behind her like a herd of ducklings. There are familiar faces around what seems like every corner of the base. But none of the faces are the face you still want to see so desperately.

Jake Seresin shows up again as you’re oooh-ing and ahh-ing over the big hanger, burnished yellow, orange, red and pink in the light of the sun. You’ve got your camera up to your face, lips pursed in concentration, eyes squinting as you peer myopically through the viewfinder. It's his voice you hear first. Just hearing it, with the same rough timber, makes you remember what he told you, before you fell into his arms and headfirst into this situation with Jake Seresin.

God, baby. You killed me this morning. Wearing that pretty little skirt and those high heels. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you until you were leaking my cum.

It’s not a good sign, is it? How you’re unable to even look at his face without giving yourself away. The evidence of your feelings must be on your face, which feels uncomfortably hot. The heat is completely unrelated to San Diego's sky-high temperature and you shy away from eye-contact when you pivot and face the rest of your team, and the trio of Lieutenant Commanders. The sight of him hits you in your solar plexus, robbing your breath and leaving your palms uncomfortably clammy.

“Hi.”

It’s a quiet greeting, your voice swallowed by the sight of him. It feels like your tongue is two times bigger than it should be in your mouth, unwieldy as you force it to move like you want it to. He doesn’t hear you, or even acknowledge you standing there waiting for him to notice you. Standing there, you finally realize how big a gulf there is between you and Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin.

It's a sharp contrast. He's standing there in his khaki uniform crisp and new, blond hair dark at his temples from the shower he must have taken. In contrast, your shirt is covered in wrinkles, your hair is frizzy with flyaways escaping your braid and your worn jeans are butter soft but have definitely seen better days. He ignores you for the rest of the afternoon. It hurts, of course it does, when he doesn’t notice you in the same way you notice him. But you have a job to do. You can’t - you won’t - jeopardize your career for a man, not even a man as beautiful as he is.

The now-trio of Lieutenant Commanders shows you the Officer’s ready room, where you'll be setting up for the interviews. Each member of your team is also given a badge on a lanyard allowing you limited access to certain areas of base. Soon enough, you're left to survey the ready room and prepare your team for the days ahead.

“I know it's been a long day already for you all.” Your smile is a little wry as you continue, “It's been a long day for me too. All I want is to unwind and get out of these heels!”

You let the scattered chuckles from your team peter out before continuing.

“Before I can do so, we need to sync up on what we're going to be focusing on over the next few days.”

“First and foremost on our list? Getting pictures of the Daggers while they are being interviewed. The interviewer is an old friend of Admiral Kazansky's and will be spotlighting each of the Daggers. As a part of the interview, we will be expected to get photos of each member of the squadron in their flight suits, their khaki uniforms and their dress uniforms.”

You raise your hands up to stall any questions. “I'm aware this isn't exactly the type of photo shoot we're used to. Katie, you’ll be on hand to help with their make-up during the interview. We're keeping it light and subtle. For the interview photos, we want the aviator's uniforms and medals to shine.”

“Seb and Kris - the two of you will be measuring the light levels in this room during various times of day and setting up artificial studio lights as necessary. I'll also need you both to check on the lighting situation in the big hangar we were in with the desks and the United States flag on the wall.”

“Adam and Lea, it may not sound like it yet, but I will need you both on your A-games. By special request of Admiral Mitchell, we've been asked to stage a beach bonfire. He wants this interview to echo the beginnings of this squadron. They became a team on the beach and now they are a family. I'm thinking we need cozy textiles and bright winter-toned colors. I'll leave the color palette to you both. All I ask is we have a cohesive palette for the squadron as a whole. As always, measurements for the aviators are included in this dossier. One of the minivans is yours. Our office in San Diego knows to expect you both.”

It doesn’t surprise you at all when Adam and Lea make a beeline for the doors as soon as you’re done with them. You’ve worked with them both long enough to know how they operate. They’ll be downtown and looking through the clothing on display before you can blink.

“Ames, while I run point with the admirals, you'll be sourcing the beachfront we can use for the bonfire. I'm not sure who you'll need permission from, but there might be a bar owner who can give us permission.”

Before long, it feels like you're the only island of calm in the entirety of base. Seb and Kris wander in and out of the room, measuring the light and carting in and out lighting equipment. Even the teleconference you have with the Admirals, both of whom are in Hawaii, due to fly back in a couple of days, goes smoothly.

Over the next few days, you find yourself building on the rapport you created with 6 of the aviators in the Dagger squad in the following days. You also meet the other half of the Dagger Squad. But at the same time you are building a relationship with the other Daggers, it feels like you're losing the relationship you once had with Jake.

The only time you see him during the four days of interviews and pictures is when he is being interviewed. Even then, he spends more time chatting with Amy and Katie than you. Even when you address him directly, he's silent, content to play puppet to your puppet master and then disappearing to an area off base you don't have access to. It hurts, and you’re starting to get weird looks from the other Daggers. They’re all too polite, or too cognizant of their positions in the Navy to ask you any prying questions. At least, until the bonfire.

It hadn’t been difficult to organize at all, in the end. All Amy needed to do was speak to the proprietress of The Hard Deck, a little bar a few miles off base. Penny had been more than happy to hand over the usage of the beach outside her bar for the night. The combination of good food, even better alcohol, and of course, no interviews relaxed the Daggers enough for you to get the candid shots the magazine was looking for. Halos of light spark across your screen with each snap you take - lens flares sparking to life, again and again.

“Why aren’t you hanging out with Jake?”

The question makes you jump and nearly chuck your lens cap into the bonfire. You fumble awkwardly as you try to collect your composure.

“Lieutenant Commander Trace. What can I do for you?”

Your voice is a little shaky as you wheel around and face her.

“You don’t have to do anything for me!” She’s smiling at your discomfort, something wicked curling her lips. “And anyways, didn’t I tell you to call me Natasha three months ago?”

You’re smiling despite yourself at her antics.

“It’s good to see you again, Natasha.”

“Forget about me. Why aren’t you talking to Jake?”

You should have known she wouldn’t be able to let it go.

“Three months ago, you could barely keep your eyes off of him and the same was true of him. He went out of his way to chat you up every chance he got. And now? Something happened between the two of you after we all left the hangar, and now neither of you is talking. You were fine when you showed us the pictures the next day. But now?”

You shrug, lifting your camera up to snap another couple of pictures of the squadron having fun.

“Oh my god. I can’t with the two of you. Either you walk over there and talk to him, or I’m going to get him to talk to you!”

You grab her arm before she can march away.

“I can’t, Natasha.”

You try grabbing for her, but before you can, she’s already gone. His eyes cut over to yours the more she speaks, and you’re not sure you like the way he’s glancing over at you. Your heart is in your throat as he skirts around the bonfire and sidles up to you.

“What are you doing here? Natasha has this crazy idea you’re heads over heels for me, but the way you’ve been acting says differently. So what are you doing here?”

His voice is so quiet you can barely hear it over the crackling bonfire. His face doesn’t change its expression once the entire time he’s speaking to you, barring one tiny, blink-and-you-miss-it smirk. Once again, you have to thank Adam and Lea for their work because the Lieutenant Commander looks good enough to eat in his sweater and butter-soft jeans. But you know he's not happy to see you. The disappearing act he's been pulling ever since he saw you outside the hangar four days ago is proof.

“You know what I’m doing here, Jake.”

“You're taking photos for another article. I know, I know.”

His smirk deepens, eyes twinkling maddeningly as he prowls closer to you.

“But between you and me, it’s just the official excuse, isn't it?” He tugs at a strand of your hair, reeling you closer to him. “But unofficially, I bet you want more of me. Maybe you want to make yourself another home movie? See my handprint on your ass cheeks again?”

His words have heat rising to your face, never mind how your skin already feels too toasty from how you've been huddling near the bonfire all night to keep yourself warm. Form-fitting dresses are not beachwear, especially not in late November. But you’re dressing to impress, wearing sharp blazers and business frocks. Add to the dress the camera and purse you’ve got over your shoulder, and you’re definitely not equipped for the beach.

“How do you know what I want?”

Your voice is thready and light, and your head spins the closer he gets to you. It's weird. You've been aching to have him this close to you all week, but now, when he is actually close to you again, you feel like it's too much, like he's too much. Every night in your hotel room, you've been coaching yourself to ignore him. You’ve had to in order to compartmentalize and be professional while on base. Yet, after only a few minutes in his presence, all your defenses are shredded like tissue paper.

“Because you're looking at me like this.”

Wafts of fragrant wood smoke drift by you and him as you stand mere inches away from each other. You can’t refute his statement. Not even a little bit, not even at all. You've never been able to mask your emotions, wearing your heart on your sleeve and your feelings in the pursed set of your mouth and the raise of your eyebrows. But you’re still not sure what you can say. If he’d propositioned you with the same vulnerable look in his eyes the first day you were in North Island, when he first saw you again, you would have folded like a cheap lawn chair. Then, you probably would have been more than content to pass on your expensive hotel room and make his lonely base apartment a little warmer. But he didn’t, and you’re not sure you can take the risk anymore.

Jake’s shoulders hunch, sinking into the impossibly soft cashmere of the sweater at your lack of response.

“I…” His smirk flattens, something like his Hangman mask taking its place. His shoulders never drop past his ears the longer you stand there with him at arm’s reach and pretend like you’re having a blast at this beach photoshoot turned bonfire party.

“I’ve read this all wrong, haven’t I?”

His sigh is gusty and almost too loud. “I was waiting for you to say something, because I’ve been dying to see you again. But then you ran away when you were taking pictures of the Top Gun class. Afterward, I - I didn’t know how to say I missed you, which is weird, I know. We only knew each other for a singular night.”

If your jaw isn’t on the floor already, you know it will be soon. Already, you’ve been getting too many questioning glances from your team and the Dagger Squadron. Then there is Natasha’s well-meaning meddling from a few minutes ago. Even the admirals have glanced over every once in a while at you and the normally cocky Lieutenant Commander standing in near silence. It’s not a conscious thought which has you whirling around in the silky sand and snagging a hand into his sleeve. You’re not sure why you’re doing it. All you know is if you’re having this out now, you need to have it out in private where it will not be injurious to your career or his.

Thankfully, Jake doesn't fight you as you pull him towards a corner of the parking lot. Your face feels flushed, and your chest heaves with panic at the thought someone could know what you and Jake did.

“I…”

You cover his mouth with your hand, pretending the feeling of his skin on your hands doesn't burn, like you’re not completely aware of the masculine heat emanating from his skin. For several long moments, you stand in the shadows between two pick-up trucks in the parking lot. Each of your muscles is tense, waiting for someone to realize you've disappeared with Jake Seresin, of all people. You don’t want to think about the possibilities they were assuming. The prickling, uneasy sensation doesn't pass with the moments but does fade a little.

“What was that about, huh?”

You just glare in response.

“I thought it was better to have this conversation where we were less likely to be overheard, is all.”

Your voice is prim, and your nose is tipped upward. It's obvious Jake doesn't feel the same way you do about this conversation, if he’s asking you questions like this.

“C'mon, sugar. If you wanted to let me down, you could have just said it by the bonfire. I promise I won't harass you.” His brow is furrowed as he thinks through all the implications of your statement. “Then or now.”

“I…” You fling your hands upwards, feeling this sudden urge to rage at the stars above you. How have things gotten so twisted? In your head and between you and Jake?

“I don't want to let you down, Jake.”

You growl, then, because you know what you feel, but the words aren't coming out of your mouth the right way. He's patiently waiting for you to figure it out, lips pressed into a thin line, and green eyes scorching through you.

“I’m not rejecting you, Jake. When I came to North Island Naval Base and saw you standing in front of the lectern, I wanted you to smile when you saw me. I wanted some indication you felt the same way I did. I also wanted to kiss you, but it wouldn’t have helped then.”

You're smiling again, just a slight curve to your lips, a smile Jake is mirroring.

“Then you pretended I didn't exist. You pretended I was just someone you worked with before. Not someone who you were intimate with. Not someone whose life you changed with your stupid smile and your piercing eyes and your big, gentle hands. I…”

To your embarrassment, you're sniffling and fighting back tears. “I didn't know why, or how to deal with it, so I just pushed back all my feelings. I pretended the same thing you did, and tried to ignore how much it hurt.”

“Fuck.” The quiet expletive echoes around you. “I messed this up, didn't I?”

He's pacing now, back and forth in front of you, shoes sliding through the gravel as he marches. He's ruffling his hair, face scrunched up in anguish at your words.

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I've watched our video so many times, I know my favorite parts. Fuck, sweetheart, I even took the picture of your ass with my handprints on it with me when we were deployed a month ago. I was nearly given so many demerits because of how hot that picture is.”

Your heart seems like it’s going to burst out of your chest, beating as hard as it is.

“So why didn’t you call?” The same plaintive, sad tone is in your voice again.

“What could I have said?” He’s finally stopped pacing back and forth at least. He flings his hands out from his hips “Sweetheart, I want you, I need you. I wish I could fly to New York right now to taste you again?”

You have to snicker at the sarcastic, sardonic note in his voice.

“It’s a little melodramatic, but I would have taken it.”

Just as quickly as you snicker, the laugh peters away into a gentle sigh. “All you had to do was tell me you missed me, Jake. All I wanted was for you to tell me you wanted to see me again.”

“Would it have mattered if I did?”

He’s stepped closer again, close enough you can feel the heat of his skin against yours. One of his big hands cradles your jaw as he looms over you.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl.” There’s a smirk on his face as he ghosts his lips over yours.

“Why would my answer matter then?” You’re not sure where the sass is coming from, but it’s making Jake smirk even more. “Knowing the decision you made?”

Thankfully, you don’t have to think of a response with a brain wholly occupied by the man drawing you into his arms. You melt into the kiss like it's something visceral you've been missing. His hair still feels the same against the pads of your fingers, golden silk, as you wrap your arms around his neck. He still tastes like you remember, too, cinnamon and smoky spice intermingling on your tongue as he licks into your mouth. Your heart sings when he gently positions your camera so it isn’t crushed between the two of you.

You whimper when he pulls away, chasing after his mouth like you're addicted to it. He still kisses like he flies, you note dimly, thoughts far away. The car at your back is cool, the metal searing into your skin as the sun has long since set. But the cold temperature of the car has nothing on the man crowding you up against it. His eyes are lidded, gaze hot as he takes in the sight of you. The dual temperatures are enough to make you shudder.

“Look at you, darling.” His hands are just as hot as his gaze as he trails his hands down your sides. “A single kiss, and you’re aching for me.”

You can’t deny the effects this man has on you. In truth, the time for denial would have been some time before you made the movie at the hangar. You’re so far down this path there isn’t a way to turn back.

“You want me just as much.”

Your voice is quieter than the rush of the waves, yet loud enough you can see the impact as they hit his ears. He’s still just as fit as he was three months ago, all hard, hot muscle as he presses up against you, cedar and plum wafting through the air off his skin. You can feel the jut of him against your hip as he muscles you even further against the car, spreading you out like a meal he wants to eat. He transfixes you with a glare when he pulls away, even as he smirks at your breathy moan. You watch, eyes lidded, as he opens the truck door and sets your things on the broad seat. You’re panting with need when he comes back to you, body shivering as he leans into you again. His hands find their home against the curve of your waist, fingers still nimble as they focus on tracing your curves in a way which might be driving you just a little mad. You almost wish you were wearing a blouse and skirt again like last time, because at least then you could feel his hands spread across your ribcage, searing their heat into your bones.

You’re lost in him, utterly captivated by the way his tongue tangles with yours, the way he makes you moan. Unlike the rough, claiming kisses of your first sexual encounter with Jake Seresin, these kisses are tender and sweet. They’re searching and tasting, like he’s trying to learn what makes you tick and what makes you moan. In truth, it feels like he’s trying to take you apart only to put you together again. This time, you’re not sure you’ll ever be the same, forever changed by the man in your arms.

“Fuck…” The word is an exhale pressed to your pulse-point, sticky, sweet, and blindingly hot. “Baby, let me take you somewhere other than this dusty, dirty parking lot. I think I really need to see you spread out on my bed this time.”

“Yes, please.” The words leave you in a strung out moan as you tug him closer, fisting your hands in his hair and sweater as you see fit. You’re past caring so long as he’s pressed so perfectly against you.

When he finally steps back from you, you’re gratified to see he looks just as rumpled and debauched as you feel. For a few moments, you stand there, drinking him in, hands aching to draw him close again, to touch him again. He takes your hand, entwining his fingers and yours. His hand dwarfs yours, skin slightly rough as his hand cradles yours. You let him lead you to the truck and help you in, because a part of you isn’t sure you’re going to be able to let him go even when you have to.

It’s silent, but for the sounds of the road as he starts his pickup, one hand never leaving its spot on your thigh. Your hands find the camera again, snapping with abandon the vista blurring past the windows and the man driving you. The streetlights halo through the lens view, speckling the pictures with circles of golden-butter light. It seems like time slips past in a slow trickle. You’re still looking through the camera when the engine cuts off, the sounds of the night trickling slowly back into your ears.

Jake’s eyes sear through you when you carefully gather your camera and bag up, legs shaky from that look alone as you step onto the pavement. His hand finds yours again, as you follow his broad back up a flight of stairs and through an unassuming white paneled front door. You’re surrounded by the cedar and plum of his cologne as you step in, the scent lightly drifting through the air. Jake crowds you against the door as soon as it closes, hands divesting you of your things even as his mouth slants over yours again. The heat sparking between you ignites again, a flame bursting to life in your chest, fed by the soft moans leaving his lips as you kiss him with wild abandon.

For much of the way to his bed, your eyes are closed. You trust Jake to lead you the right way, not to hurt you as you stumble and shudder your way through the apartment in his arms. His lips don’t leave yours once, moans ripping out of your mouth as he leaves you breathless. He’s far from quiet too, softly grunting when you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck, gasping open mouthed into yours as you rub at his bulge. Arousal bubbles in your veins, crashing over and through you. You squeal when he pushes you onto his bed, the mattress so firm it's almost hard as you bounce against it. Your hands shake as you fight with your clothes. Adrenalin makes you clumsy as you nudge your shoes off and fight futilely with the zipper at your back. Eventually you give up, choosing to lean back on your palms. When you look up, Jake’s staring down at you, eyes trailing from the curve of your mostly exposed legs up to your chest and back down again. He’s got his lower lips between his teeth, brow furrowed as he shrugs the sweater off.

Once again, you remind yourself to thank Lea for her work, because if you thought the shirt looked good buttoned up, it looks even better as it slips off his arms. He’s still wearing his dog tags, the silver chain glinting in the moonlight through the windows as he prowls over you.

“You’re still prettier than the pictures you take, baby.”

You feel like you are barely breathing as Jake licks into your mouth. The heat of his body grounds you, the points of contact just enough to tell you this is real.

“Breathe, beautiful.” His hands draw you up until you’re kneeling on the bed, your hands on his shoulders as you peer up into his eyes. Your resulting exhale is shaky as you drag in breaths with just enough oxygen to keep your head from spinning.

“Let’s get you out of this pretty dress, huh?”

“Jake.” His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer. His hands are practiced, sure as they drag the zipper down from the nape of your neck to the base of your spine. The fabric of your dress gapes forward until it’s around your waist.

Jake's eyes seem to glow in the moonlight as he takes in the simple black bra you're wearing, hands tender and hot as they drag over your bare skin, mouth wet and sharp as he drags his teeth across your collar bones.

“Mmm, baby.” His moan has you gasping, your body listing into his as he purrs the words into your skin. “I'm going to make you feel so good.”

When he lets go of you, your nipples are firm peaks in the cool air. When he removed your bra, you're not sure. All you know is you want him, desperately, urgently. Your panties feel like too much material as they cling to you, the gusset damp. Your hands are clumsy as you wrench the dress off, shaking as you peel your panties away from your skin, you flush as Jake's chuckles echo in your ears.

Divested of your clothes, you're faced with one of the prettiest sights of your life. Because, Jake’s standing there, with his belt unbuckled, and the jeans unbuttoned. His cock bulges out through the v-shaped opening, and your mouth waters as you look him over.

“God, Jake, please.” Your voice is a whine as you reach for him, fingers resting against his taut abdomen, back arched as you wait on all fours.

“I’ve got you baby.”

His promises drip over your bare skin like hot and gentle summer rain. Your eyes close as he cups your jaw, the rustle of fabric foretelling his bare skin joining yours on the bed. You let him position you where he wants, drugged by the sensations of his big hands. You steal the opportunity to kiss him again, palms splayed over his pecs, and the cool chain of his dog tags brushing against your fingers. Falling into him is too easy. It’s just a series of kisses, a sweet tangle of tongues as you let him cradle you in his arms. Sparks of need, of want traverse your moon-stained skin, hips canting against his thigh in need.

“How long has it been since you’ve cum, sweetheart?”

There’s amusement in his tone as you wrap your arms around his neck, breasts pillowed against his chest as you nudge his nose with your own.

“Just a couple of days ago.”

His chuckle makes you pout.

“And how did you cum?”

He rolls you over, ghosting a kiss over your lips as he peers down at you. “Was it some guy you brought home? Who didn’t know how to make these pretty moans spill out of your mouth? Did he make you think of me the whole time?”

When you moan, it’s because he’s pressing into you, the stretch of him making your toes curl.

“N-no.” You screw your eyes up, trying to string the words together. “It was just me. With a vibrator, watching our video.”

“Fuck, there’s my good girl. Waiting for your Lieutenant Commander to make you scream, right?”

You’re so far beyond words all you can do is tug him down, fisting your hand in his hair until you can kiss him again. He’s just as eager to pull you in, hitching your legs up until they’re propped over his arms, keeping you spread open as he pistons his hips until you see stars.

“Please, please, please.”

You’re babbling, your orgasm crashing over you with each sharp thrust. Your moans intertwine with Jake’s guttural grunts as his hips stutter at their steady pace. It feels like you’ve been set on fire when you cum, pulsing waves of heat washing over your body. Jake’s shivering as he slumps over you, blanketing your body with his. His hair is sweat-damp as you card your fingers through the fluffy strands.

“Missed you, Jay.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” The words are languid and soft, syrupy and sweet.

It feels like you could fall in love with Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin as he gathers you in his arms for what must be the hundredth time tonight to clean you up. Every glimpse of the man you see when he's not putting on his Hangman mask intrigues you more. There's a gentleness to him when he's like this, a secret softness shining past his imposing exterior. You want to know more. You have to know more.

The realization of how little time you have left with Jake eviscerates you. Only two days left. Two days to love this man as much as you can. You can’t tell him how close you are to falling for him. Looking at his apartment, you have a feeling it would just scare him away. His apartment is almost austere, the off-white walls blending into the pale cream carpet on the floor. Everything is bare, with no pictures on the walls and no personality. It’s a trend throughout the entire space, everywhere but the bedroom. There's a cheery quilt at the foot of the bed. It's the only vibrant color in the apartment, the one thing which screams home.

“It's pathetic, isn't it?” You jump at his words, gripping at the footboard of the bed in an effort to keep from falling.

“It's not pathetic, Jay. Just…” You turn, clad in the soft tee he'd pulled over you after the shower. “Just different than I expected.”

“I know what it looks like, sweetheart.” The same sad soft tone is in his voice again. “It looks like I don’t have any roots. Like I’m scared to let people in.”

He slides his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss on your shoulder, his golden hair dripping as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “Maybe that is the truth.”

Your heart breaks a little at the soft surety in his voice, even as he does his best impression of a koala around you.

“Because like it or not, I’m going to leave one day. I’ll have to leave one day. Another deployment. Another mission. And chances are, I may not be coming home.”

You clutch at him tighter, because right now, you’re not sure you can think about him not being in San Diego the next time you’re here.

“I was okay with my reality.”

When you wrestle your way out of his grip, you’re maybe a little too rough, evidenced by the grimace on his face as you walk away. You’re not sure where you’re going but away has to be enough. You’re not sure you can face him after he’s said something like this. After all, here you are, ready to risk it all in a sultry cross-country romance, ready to give your heart to him, possibly years of your life to him. Then there he is, admitting so callously he might not be coming home one day.

You’re staring unseeingly at the stars when he slides his arms around you again.

“Are you okay, Shutterbug?”

You lean back into him, because he feels perfect against you still.

“Shutterbug is new.” You’re trying to change the subject, because if he’s insistent about it, you’re going to explode.

“Nuh-uh.” His hands turn you around until you’re looking at him again. “Tell me what’s bothering you, pretty girl.”

“You’re so callous about how you’re ready to never come home again! Why would you say that to me, Jake? I’m ready to risk everything for you. A cross-country relationship, half here, half in New York or really, wherever it’s convenient for us to meet. If you’re not willing to do the same, then what is the point of what we just did?”

You’re choking back a sob as you stand in front of him. Your eyes are screwed closed, hands wringing the hem of the t-shirt clothing you.

“Why does it matter that you missed me, and that I missed you?”

“It matters, because, sweetheart, you didn’t let me finish what I was going to say.”

Your arms wrap around his waist easily as he tugs you closer.

“I was going to say, I was okay never coming home before you. You’ve been running around in my head, the center of every thought, the subject of my every dream for three months. You kept me going when we were deployed, too. All I wanted was to come home safe so I could fly out to New York and see you again.”

“Now, at least I know I’ll be welcome when I come by.”

You’re smiling from ear to ear as you kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Yeah, you will be.”

You're still smiling as you walk into the Officer's Ready Room at North Island the next morning. You've got the same swagger you had in your step the first time you and Jake crashed together. Only this time, you have his phone number on your phone and the promise of a romantic dinner for two tonight. You'd be lying if you said you weren't still worried about the long distance relationship, spending half your life in New York and half here. But more than anything, you're ready for the challenge and excited to. At least you know who you're going home to - and, he knows who he is coming home to, as well.

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