#i have full confidence clearing the board

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

WILD HEARTS (M)

★ PAIRING: Haechan x Reader (ft. Mark)

☆ WORD COUNT: 12.7k

★ GENRE(S): smut, hate to lovers

☆ Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had a crush on Mark. Over the summer, you have the opportunity to get closer to him but there is one problem. For as long as you could remember him, Haechan always got in the way.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, rated 18+, mature, MDNI

☆★ NOTES: I had to do this before the summer ended. Would you believe me if I said this was supposed to be nothing but fluff? I tried so hard not to write hate to love but my finger slipped. Next time, I promise. Enjoy.

Since fifth grade, you have had a crush on Mark Lee. In the seventh grade, you spoke your first words to him, and by the twelfth grade, you had at least two or three exchanges. This year you two are attending the same college. You would not let your good fortune be for naught because this year, Mark Lee would be yours.

“Five days out in the woods?” Your roommate quirks a brow at you. “You hate bugs, you’re a shut-in, and you’re not even part of that club.”

“Not yet. I’m working on that, and I’m not a shut-in! I just don’t fit in,” you explain with a roll of your eyes.

You had a hard time making friends back in grade school, graduating with only having made a handful. You were the smart kid, the nerd, and the one people would pick on when they were bored. You had a hard time fitting in, but since you started college, things have mellowed out a lot. College kids didn’t care how you looked, how you dressed, or who you were; they had too many deadlines to meet and too much classwork to juggle to really care about those things. You were finally able to come out of your shell a little, and with your newfound confidence, you are certain you could bag the man of your dreams.

Mark Lee was perfect—he was smart, athletic, funny, and most of all, kind. He was the only one to look at you with any ounce of kindness back in grade school. This year, you had created a plan to finally get him to notice you. Mark is the head of the campus activities board, and this year the club is going on a camping trip. You saw a flyer hanging up outside the student center; it stated that the trip would be five days and four nights at some old camping grounds by a lake. This was the perfect chance to get close to Mark; the only problem was that you weren’t a member of the club yet, and the deadline was fast approaching.

“Whatever, you’re still too scared to talk to him,” your friend shrugs while flipping through her textbook.

“Yeri, you’re not helping,” you whine before flopping onto your bed in defeat. She was right; you hadn’t talked to Mark in who knows how long.

“I’m sorry. I believe in you,” she says unconvincingly.

“I’ll prove it! By the end of this trip, Mark Lee will be mine!” You sit up with newfound conviction.

Your roommate smiles in amusement. “Good luck.”

You woke up early the next morning, needing ample time to get ready and hype yourself up. You got a full eight hours of sleep last night, and you were going to need every ounce of energy if you were going to talk to Mark today. You even had time to make a quick breakfast. As you checked the time one last time before leaving, you gasped. You had spent so much time getting ready—taking a shower, doing your makeup, and eating—but you were still too early. Maybe you overestimated the time it would take you to get ready. You still had an entire hour until your first class.

“What are you doing?” a groggy Yeri asks, rubbing her eyes as she opens the fridge.

“I woke up too early,” you sigh.

“It’s because you’re too anxious. Relax—it will work out. It’s not like you’re asking him to marry you.”

"Not yet," you think to yourself.

You needed to go for a walk; Some fresh air would help clear your mind and calm your nerves. There's a trail near your dorm, so you decide that's where you’ll go. The truth is, you don’t have a clear plan beyond the trip itself. You know the first step is to go, but after that, you’re unsure. You figured there would be plenty of camp activities and various team-building exercises. Maybe a deeper bond could be formed through those? You heard there was archery planned; perhaps you could shoot an arrow right through his heart.

“Hey, you okay?” Yeri calls after you, noticing your distracted expression as you step outside.

“Yeah, I’m just trying to figure out how to make the most of this trip,” you reply with a nervous laugh.

“Well, don’t overthink it. Just be yourself and see where things go. You’ve got this.”

You take a deep breath, nodding to yourself as you set off toward the trail. Each step helps you steady your nerves, your mind buzzing with the excitement of what’s to come. This is just the start of your plan to finally get close to Mark Lee, and you’re determined to make every moment count.

You bite your lip in thought, realizing that before you can do anything, you first need to overcome a major hurdle: talking to him without feeling like your throat is closing up. Mark makes you more nervous than you already are. Just looking at him makes your heart race, like it's about to jump out of your chest. Whenever you've tried to speak with him before, you could barely get a word out without stuttering. There must be a way to make this easier. Maybe you could ask one of the other club members to help you sign up? No, you need to face this yourself; otherwise, you’ll never gather the courage to ask him out.

The trail wound through the entire campus, you took the long way to think and you eventually ended up heading toward your first class. This was where you’d cross paths with Mark every morning since he had class in the same building as you. Spotting him on his way to class, you decided it was time to rip off the bandage and get the ball rolling. The quad between the buildings was bustling, and you had to navigate through a crowd to reach him. Just as you were inches away from tapping his shoulder, someone roughly pushed you aside. You stumble into another student, quickly apologize, and look around for the person who shoved you.

It was him—Haechan.

You burn holes into the back of his head. Your relationship with Haechan isn’t really a relationship at all; it’s one-sided animosity. You despise him for the simple crime of always being in the wrong place at the wrong time, which, unfortunately for you, is always next to Mark. As Mark's best friend, Haechan is always glued to his side, and time after time, he’s managed to come between you and Mark.

There was that time in middle school when you sprained your ankle. Mark was supposed to take you to the nurse’s office because he was the teacher’s aide, but Haechan insisted on taking you instead. Then there was the school project where you were paired with Mark, but because Haechan joined the class, the number of students became uneven, and he was added to your group. When Mark got sick, you ended up meeting with Haechan every Sunday to finish the project instead.

The worst thing Haechan did, though, was steal your first kiss. It happened at the one and the only party you were ever invited to. Eager to fit in, you joined a game of spin the bottle, convinced it would land on Mark. Your heart sank when, at the last moment, it landed on Haechan instead. So he kissed you. When he pulled away, everyone looked at him with expectant eyes. You could see it on their faces: how did the "weird girl" kiss? The embarrassment was overwhelming.

“Your lips are chapped”

Chapped? Chapped! From that moment on, you were called "Chappy" for the rest of the year. You wanted to murder Lee Haechan. Determined not to let him get in your way this time, you head to your class, planning to catch Mark after.

Finally, after an hour-long lecture, you’re free. You take your time exiting the building, scanning for Mark. As you turn a sharp corner, you run into someone and stumble backward, almost tripping over your own feet. An arm reaches out to steady you.

“Thank—” Oh no, it was happening again. Your throat was closing up, your brain was malfunctioning, and you just wanted the ground to open up and swallow you. Yeri called it the “Leeffect.” It was like, whenever Mark was around, you froze up like a deer in headlights.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?” He asks, bending down to pick up the keys you dropped.

It takes you a moment to realize you haven’t taken your keys from his outstretched hand. No! You refuse to let the “leeffect” ruin this. It’s now or never.

“It’s not too late, right?”

“Late for what?”

Be specific, you chide yourself, you’re sinking here.

“The club!” You blurt out too loudly. “Sorry, um, I saw a flyer about your club going camping. It’s not too late to join, is it?” You finish weakly.

“Wait, you want to join the club? You’re exactly what I needed!”

Mark said he needed you, you think dreamily.

“My friend really wanted to go on this trip, but since it’s already kind of last minute, everyone had already buddied up. But if you join, we’ll have enough people to pair off evenly!” Mark explains, his eyes lighting up.

“That’s perfect!”

This was terrible. Mark was supposed to be your partner. You sigh a little in disappointment when he leaves. It could be worse.

“At least you got his number, and hey, now you’re going on the trip!” Yeri tries to cheer you up.

You pop another gummy worm into your mouth, chewing it absentmindedly. It’s movie night at the dorm: Yeri is sprawled across half the couch, while you’re curled up on the other end.

“Yeah, but I still have to go with someone else!”

“Do you know who your buddy is yet?”

“I don’t know yet; I didn’t have time to ask. We just exchanged information. He said he’d text me the details later because he had to get to his next class.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to switch?” You hope she’s right.

The next morning, you receive his text with all the information. He sends a detailed paragraph containing the location, fees, departure date, activities, and a short itinerary of the stops along the way. There’s also a list of key items you might want to bring. At the end of the message, he includes your buddy’s phone number. You’re set to leave in two days.

Everything was packed, and you were out the door before the sun was even up. You had a long day ahead of you, but you didn’t care because you’d be on the same bus as Mark for five hours! Sure, you had to sit next to your designated partner, but if he chose an aisle seat, you could sit across the aisle from him.

All club members were to meet at the student center and load the buses from there. You arrive and slip inside with your bags and head to the lounge area. Not expecting to be the first one to show up, you text your buddy to let them know you’re waiting.

You stay positive—nothing could ruin your chance to get close to Mark. People start arriving along with their buddies, and everyone slowly pairs up, but you’re still left alone. Mark finally shows up, and as the leader, he gathers everyone to go over the rules and what to expect for the trip. You’re instructed to sit next to your buddy on the bus, stick with them at rest stops, and stay together if you visit a gift shop. You understand the need for caution, especially when traveling far from campus, but you can't help feeling a bit stifled.

It isn’t long before it’s time to load the bus, and your buddy still hasn’t arrived. You wait in line to pack your bags into the additional storage space under the bus, hoping your buddy will show up soon.

“Dude! What took you so long? I thought you weren’t going to make it!” Mark’s voice cuts through the crowd.

You glance over your shoulder and tighten your grip on your bag at the sight.

“Overslept, sorry,” another voice responds.

Lee Haechan was catching his breath as Mark filled him in on the details. You had a suspicion, and despite your best efforts to dismiss it (such as sacrificing a small child the previous evening to ensure it wasn’t true) there was no denying it now. As he strode up next to you, it became an undeniable reality.

Lee Haechan was your designated trip buddy.

“So, you’re my partner? Nice to meet you. I’m Donghyuck, but everyone calls me Haechan,” he says, shrugging his bag over his shoulder as he introduces himself.

You scoff. Of course he forgot you. After making your early school years a nightmare, how could he not? “Y/N,” you reply coldly, facing forward and closing yourself off from any further conversation. This could not be happening to you.

This trip was starting off terribly. After loading up the bus, you and Haechan were assigned seats far at the back, while Mark was seated at the front. Haechan claimed the window seat, leaving you stuck in the aisle seat with no Mark on the other side. You had no one to talk to and nothing to look at. You were bored.

The only upside was that Mark was sitting in an aisle seat at the front, so if you leaned just a bit into the aisle, you could catch glimpses of the back of his head. Unfortunately, hanging your head into the aisle to sneak peeks at Mark for five hours wasn’t exactly cool and mysterious, so that option was out of the question.

Haechan had given up on trying to talk to you after you had ignored him for the third time an hour into the trip. You had practically acted like he wasn’t even there. You weren’t sure how you’d survive the next four hours.

Finally, after about an hour and a half, the bus stops for a bathroom break. Haechan trails behind you, even when you tell him he doesn’t need to. As you both make your way to the restrooms, you manage to say your first words to him in hours.

“Seriously, you don’t have to follow me everywhere. You wanna wait outside the stall too?”

“I’d actually feel safer inside. Someone might snatch me up,” Haechan replies with a grin.

You roll your eyes as you head toward the women’s bathroom. “And I’d just die if that happened,” you joke sarcastically.

When you exit the bathroom, Haechan is at your side again. As you both leave the rest stop, you notice Mark and his partner chatting on a bench outside. With a few more moments to stretch before loading the bus again, you figure it’s as good a time as any to chat with Mark.

Mark looks up and waves. You wave back but realize a second too late that he was actually waving at Haechan. Haechan strolls over, and you follow behind.

Haechan effortlessly joins Mark’s conversation, and you can’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy at how easily he fits in. You don’t mind too much, though; watching from the sidelines gives you a chance to observe Mark up close without being too obvious

“I’m really glad you decided to come on the trip,” Mark says. It takes you a moment to realize that the conversation has shifted to you and Mark is addressing you directly.

You take a deep breath, remembering your practice. “Thank you for letting me join so late,” you say.

“It's no problem and Haechan's great! I think you’re going to love him. Hopefully, we can all hang out after the trip,” Mark encourages.

You can practically feel the stars twinkling in your eyes at the promise. “That sounds great!”

When it’s time to load the bus, you notice that Haechan is a bit quieter than before. It doesn’t bother you much, but the constant staring does.

“Is there something on my face?” you ask.

Haechan hesitates for a moment before finally speaking. “You like him, don’t you?”

You choke on your own spit. “What!?”

“Mark, you look at him with the worst case of puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen,” Haechan states matter-of-factly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is the heat getting to you? Want me to ask if they can turn the AC up?” In a bus cramped full of college kids, it could get stuffy, so maybe he needed some more air because he clearly wasn’t thinking straight.

“I can help you, if you want,” Haechan proposes.

You’re at a loss for words. This had to be a joke, but if it wasn’t, you had to take the chance. “What’s the catch?”

“You have to talk to me. For the rest of the trip, you can’t pretend I don’t exist anymore,” he whispers, turning in his seat to face you. “Promise to give me the time of day, and I’ll help you win Mark’s heart.”

“And what makes you so sure you can do that?”

“No one knows Mark better than me,” he smirks.

And that’s how you made a deal with the devil.

Although Haechan was your assigned buddy, you ended up with an entirely different bunkmate. You had never spoken to her, but you did know her. She was in one of your morning lectures, sitting a few rows in front of you.

“Hey, I’m Yujin. I’ll be your roommate for the next few days,” she introduces herself as you unpack your bags. You had finally arrived at the camp a few hours ago, and after the initial tour of the grounds, you had been split into pairs and assigned to different cabins.

You liked Yujin well enough. You hadn’t come here with the intention of making friends, so whether you hit it off with her or not didn’t really matter to you.

“I’m Y/N,” you reply, too preoccupied with dusting off the covers on the top bunk and checking for any spiders or insects that might have crept into the sheets. You really hated the outdoors.

“Woman of few words, huh? I think we’ll get along just fine,” she says with a genuine smile. Her sincerity makes you pause and look at her for a few seconds. You appreciate that she isn’t completely put off by your quiet demeanor. Maybe she’s right; you two could definitely get along well.

After settling in, you change into the club’s shirt and some active shorts. You consider staying in the club even if you don’t manage to get close to Mark, because they’ve really made an effort to make you feel welcome. Despite having just joined, someone had already given you an extra club shirt to help you feel included.

There’s little time to rest. There were multiple activities planned for today ranging from high to low mobility. Mark mentioned one of the activities was arts and crafts. After a long day of settling in all you really wanted was to relax but with such an important mission going on you decide every second counts. You and Yujin head over to the cabin that hosts the art activates and you hope you run into mark somewhere along the way. The cabin is spacious, filled with heaps of art supplies and a few tables set up to work on.

Yujin splits off to find her original buddy, leaving you to navigate the cabin on your own. You haven’t seen Haechan since you arrived at camp.

There was a patio at the back with a few more tables, and since the wind wasn’t very strong, you decided to sit out there. Everyone was busy with their own projects, and you had chosen to make something that reminded you of Mark.

“What is that?” a voice asks. You look up from the glue sticks and paper you’ve been using.

“Origami. Do you think Mark would like it?” You ask Haechan.

“Maybe if he was twelve.”

“Not helping.”

“Okay, I think it’s kind of cute. Is it a star?” he asks, opening the notebook he brought.

“No, it’s a sunflower!” You reply, a bit offended.

“Why are you using glue for origami?” Haechan asks, picking up a spare pencil from the table and starting to sketch.

“The paper keeps tearing,” you shrug. “This is stupid. He’s in college, not kindergarten. What am I even doing?” you say in defeat. You still haven’t spoken a word to Mark since you arrived at camp.

You throw the origami sunflower onto the table and cross your arms. Haechan picks it up and carefully tucks it into the pages of his sketchbook. You figure he’s better off having it than Mark.

“Don’t frown like that; you’ll get wrinkles,” Haechan scolds gently.

“Oh, thanks for the advice! Last time I checked, you were supposed to be helping me figure out how to get Mark to like me!”

Haechan sketches absentmindedly. “Okay, let me think. How about you just be yourself?” he suggests.

Your frown deepens. “Have you met me? There’s nothing special about me. He wouldn’t like me,” you reply quietly.

Haechan sighs. “So you’re just going to pretend to be someone else forever if he does date you?”

“Yes,” you say, gazing out at the tree line and taking in the wild beauty. “If it means being by his side, then yes.”

“Fine, if that’s what you want,” Haechan says. “Tomorrow there’s a canoe race. I bet if you win, he’ll congratulate you.”

“You think something like that would impress him?” you ask.

“Mark likes athletic girls who can keep up with him. If you win, everyone will be talking about you,” Haechan explains.

“Maybe... we’ll see,” you say thinking on it. You head back to your cabin.

That night, you stay up with Yujin, talking about everything and nothing. Despite being polar opposites, you click surprisingly well. You’re still hesitant to tell her about your crush on Mark, but you do share your frustrations about Haechan.

“I can’t believe he said that,” Yujin giggles.

“And after all this, he acts like he doesn’t even remember me!” you add.

“Maybe he’s just embarrassed? He probably feels bad about what he did.”

“Well, then he should apologize!”

Yujin just shrugs, popping another candied rope into her mouth. She’s sitting at the only desk in the room, finishing her arts and crafts project from earlier. She’s working on some paper Mache lemon shark, despite your suggestion to finish it tomorrow in the craft cabin.

“I mean, what if this is his way of making amends? Didn’t he say he was going to help you get that guy to like you?” she says. You’ve explained the situation to her but left out any direct mention of Mark.

You consider the possibility but remain unimpressed. Even if Haechan somehow managed to make Mark fall for you, you’d never forgive him for everything he’d done.

You wake up to a light tapping and realize it’s Haechan knocking on the wood of your bunk bed.

“Rise and shine,” he says, peeking at you from behind his sunglasses.

“What time is it?” you ask, panicked.

Apparently, you’ve overslept a little. You had planned to wake up early, you just needed a few hours to practice for the race but now you were down to just 2. You scramble down from your bunk and notice the empty bed underneath yours—Yujin must have already left for the day.

“Can you step out? I need to change,” you say, ushering him out of the cabin.

Haechan waits outside while you quickly change into something light for the weather. Since you’ll be canoeing, you put on sandals, grab a towel in case you get wet, and slip on a visor.

With some time left before the race, you head over to the mess hall to grab a bite to eat. Haechan silently follows you and sits on the other side of the table, watching as you eat. The silence is thick, leaving you to focus on your meal while trying to shake off the lingering anxiety about the day ahead. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it made you realize how little you and Haechan had to talk about.

“Have you eaten already?”

“It’s 1 p.m.,” he replies.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Yes,” he says, and once again, silence falls between you.

You ignore his attitude, he was probably upset you woke up so late. You finish up, and Haechan stands to follow you. Together, you head to the lake to practice for the canoe race later. You find the shed with the equipment and drag one of the canoes to the water. Haechan holds it steady while you hop in, then pushes it into the lake and climbs in after you.

You had watched a YouTube video the other night and thought it looked easy enough. At first its hard to find the right rhythm but when you do, the rowing is relaxing. Unfortunately after about five minutes, your arms start to ache. You quickly realize that you’re not cut out for the outdoors or any physical labor.

“Would you row already? We’re barely moving!” Haechan calls from behind you.

“I’m tired! This was a bad idea,” you whine. Your arms are burning, and it feels like you’re rowing through sand.

“Well, if you don’t row, I’m not rowing either,” Haechan huffs, pulling his oars into the boat.

“Hey! Those are wet—you’re getting them on me!”

“Well then, pull your weight!”

“This was your idea!”

He glares at you in annoyance. “Fine! If you want to sit out here, we can!”

After sitting in silence for at least five minutes, you finally lean back against Haechan’s knees, surprisingly finding he doesn’t push you away.

“The race is going to start soon. We need to get back,” Haechan says. “I’m really going to need your help if we’re going to win.”

You look up at him and sigh in defeat. Knowing your probably being really childish, you pull your oars up, ready to help steer you both back to shore.

As you row in sync with Haechan, he starts singing a melody that matches your rhythm. His smooth, relaxing voice makes you forget about the burn in your arms. You don’t even notice when the canoe gently bumps against the sandy bank. By the time you pull the canoe to shore, everyone else is already preparing for the race.

“I know we just got the hang of this, but I definitely don’t think I can row again so soon. My arms feel like they’re going to fall off,” you say, stretching your limbs after being in the canoe for so long.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re a quitter, Y/N?” Mark says, walking up to you in nothing but a life jacket and swim trunks.

Your breath catches at the sight of his toned arms. “Um, no, absolutely not! I would never quit on you, Mark!” you say suddenly feeling energized.

Mark quirks an eyebrow at you with a smile. “What she meant was, you’re going to feel like quitting after we win first place.” Haechan says

"I'll be happy regardless of who wins,” you say cheerfully

"pick me" Haechan coughs out under his breath.

“That's the spirit! No one likes a sore loser!” Mark calls out before turning back to his team mates

After the initial overview of the rules, the announcer gives everyone 10 minutes to prepare. You don't have very high hopes of winning anymore, but you hope to at least have fun. You spot Yujin somewhere in the crowd, and she waves at you, giving you a thumbs up. There are 5 teams competing, while the rest of the people have either taken to the stands or are off doing some other small activities set up around the camp.

The race is starting, and once the gun sounds, you and Haechan get into your canoe and push off.

You start the race strong and manage to keep up with the others. Mark and his partner are in 1st place, while you are in 4th, just barely ahead of two girls rowing their canoes.

Your arms are growing tired, and you can feel your grip slipping on the oars. The other teams speed ahead without looking back. You try your hardest to row and are almost close to catching up, but then one of your oars slips.

“Wait, Haechan! I need to get my oar!” You call out, reaching back into the water to try and grab it before it floats away.

“Just leave it! Stay in the boat; it’s dangerous!”

You manage to grasp the oar with your fingertips, but suddenly, the canoe begins to tip over, and you’re falling into the lake.

You’re sinking.

In your haste to start the race, you had picked a lifejacket from the storage shed that was too big and didn’t fit properly. When you fell in, the lifejacket floated up to the surface and slipped out from under your arms as you sank to the bottom.

You lose consciousness, and the last thing you see before blacking out completely are two figures swimming towards you from above.

You wake up, coughing up water as someone hovers over you, patting your back to help you expel it all. You half expect to see Haechan, but when you look up, it's Mark.

"Are you alright?" he asks, concern in his voice.

As you take in your surroundings, you realize you're lying on the shore, surrounded by everyone. Yujin stands nearby, her eyes glistening with fresh tears as she looks over you. You search for Haechan and finally spot him kneeling on the other side of your body.

"Were you the one who saved me?" you ask Mark as he passes a soothing hand over your back.

"I heard all the commotion when you fell in. I had to do something, so I jumped in and went after you," he confirms.

Before you can think about it, you lean over and hug him. Silent tears stream down your face as you weep into his shoulder. You cry so hard that you don’t even notice Haechan’s slight frown that takes over his face as he watches Mark embrace you.

Today, you woke up early for breakfast. You sat with Haechan outside on one of the benches beside the lake as you ate.

"I can't believe Mark gave me CPR!" you gush. "He literally kissed me on the lips, and I have you to thank for that." You flash him a smile as you take a bite of your pancake.

"Well, drowning you was definitely not part of the plan," he replies. He's been a little quieter than usual this morning, and you can't help but wonder what's got into him. "You weren’t even awake for it, so it doesn’t count."

"You're just jealous because I got a kiss from Mark. Be honest, you like him too, don’t you?" you ask jokingly.

"And what if I do?"

“That makes you my love rival and I would have to kill you in your sleep,” you say, waving your fork in his face.

“Only if you promise to choke me out,” he says, taking a bite of his food with a playful smirk.

You stick your fork into his plate and take a bite out of one of his pancakes, not fighting the smile that spreads across your face. A part of you still feels a twinge of disgust at the thought of Haechan attempting to flirt with you, but you're in such a good mood that you can’t care less.

"Hey, Y/N. Good morning," Mark says, sitting down with his own plate of food.

"Oh, good morning, Mark!" You smile at him but can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye, so you focus on cutting your pancakes. You’re still embarrassed about crying all over him.

"I was just coming over to check on you. After yesterday, are you alright?" he asks.

"All thanks to you," you say, forking a piece of pancake into your mouth.

"Well, Haechan helped too," Mark adds matter-of-factly, glancing towards Haechan.

You do remember seeing another figure dive in after you, which might explain why Haechan has been so quiet today. You didn’t bother thanking him at all.

"Thanks," you say as sincerely as you can muster, but it still doesn’t carry the same weight of gratitude as when you thanked Mark. Haechan rolls his eyes playfully.

"I can really feel the sincerity," he says sarcastically. "It’s not like I saved your life or anything. If it wasn’t for me, you would have died and become a virgin ghost."

Mark chokes on a piece of sausage he was chewing, and you kick Haechan under the table. After clearing his throat, Mark makes an effort to change the subject.

"Hey, we're doing tug of war today. I want you on my team if you're up for—"

"I would love to!" you say before he can even finish, then awkwardly apologize for nearly cutting him off.

"Don’t be sorry. I really like that about you. You're so eager, and I’ve seen more drive in you than anyone else," he praises you.

You can’t even muster a reply, only offering him a shy nod, which he returns with a smile.

"Later on, do you want to meet up? we should go over a plan on how to win" he asks.

Your heart races, and you feel like you might die from excitement. Mark wanted to meet up with you to talk! You think you might have died and gone to heaven.

You spend time with Yujin and her friend wandering around camp because you couldn’t find Haechan again. You must have really upset him earlier. You make a mental note to properly thank him later.

After hiking with Yujin and Sungchan and playing a few games of ping pong at the rec cabin you bid them farewell. You know you need to meet Mark before the tug of war match so you head out to find him.

You spot him sitting under a tree, lounging in the sunlight that filters through the branches, much like a cat basking in the warmth of a sunlit window. He doesn't even open his eyes when he speaks to you.

“Isn't this so relaxing? We should just sit here and enjoy the sun.” he says

“oh? what about the game plan,” you say teasingly.

"Hmm..." He scrunches his face up in thought "ok the game plan is to win. now relax with me" he pats the spot next to him.

you feel your cheeks heating up. Was that just an excuse to get you alone?

He turns to you and finally opens his eyes. “You know, after all this time, you really haven't changed. It's just like how you were in high school.

He says, looking you over, like he was trying to piece the face of the young girl he once knew with yours.

“That doesn't sound good. I feel like I was so embarrassing back then.” You snort out a humorless laugh.

“No, you were really shy back then but I always thought you were adorable. I still think you are,” he admits.

Your heart stops beating in your chest. Mark Lee just called you adorable. You couldn't say anything as you just watched the large grin spread over his face. “See, like now, you always get so nervous when you talk to me”

You can feel the heat flooding your cheeks even more, and for a moment, all the years of awkwardness and uncertainty vanish in the warmth of his compliment. “Nervous? Me?” you tease, trying to regain your composure, but the softness in his gaze makes it hard to maintain your facade. Deep down, that shy girl still lingers, and as his smile broadens, you wonder if perhaps some things—like the way he makes you feel—never really change at all.

“Tug of war is starting,” a voice cuts off your train of thought along with any moment you and Mark had begun to share.

The familiar voice snaps you back to reality, and just like that, the moment dissolves into the background noise of laughter and playful shouts around you. Haechan stood in front of you. hands shoved deep inside his pockets as he regards you both. You were sitting shoulder to shoulder with Mark underneath the large oak tree and somehow his fingertips were just shy of yours, like he was just seconds away from reaching out to hold your hand.

“Lets go, captain; we won't be able to start without you,” Haechan says before turning around and walking towards camp.

“We should get going,” Mark says, standing up and outstretching a hand towards you. You take his grasp and he helps you up. You shift your focus, momentarily startled, as groups of people gather in anticipation for the game. Mark’s eyes sparkle with excitement, and his grin widens as he turns to join the crowd.

You find yourself standing in front of Mark in line for tug of war, with Haechan, the captain of the opposing team, glaring at you from across the rope. He seems a bit annoyed as your eyes meet over the mud puddle, perhaps wishing you'd joined his team, but there's no time to ponder that when the game starts and you're yanked in every direction. You dig your feet into the ground to stabilize yourself as your team struggles to hold on, determined to avoid getting covered in mud.

Despite your efforts, you slip, and with one final tug, your team is launched into the puddle. Mark manages to catch you before you fall, but you both tumble into the mud together. Wiping the dirt from your eyes, you see Mark fighting back laughter, which prompts you to scoop up some mud and toss it at him in retaliation. His laughter fades, and yours takes over as you watch him try to clean himself off, leaving you feeling like a kid again.

You both look ridiculous, covered in muck and breathless with laughter, the tension between you melting away in an instant. He glances at you with a mixture of surprise and delight, and you can't help but grin wider. “What was that about me being adorable?” you tease, wiping your hands on your shirt.

“Here, let me help you wipe the mud off your adorable face,” Mark threatens with muddy hands

“No, you don't,” you stand up and run. Well, you try to as you slip and slide from the mud caked on the bottom of your shoes. Even though you had lost, your team was full of laughter as Mark chased you through the field. Just when you think you might escape, you glance back, only to be pulled straight into his embrace—mud and all—in a blissful tangle of limbs, and for a moment, the entire world shrinks to just the two of you.

As you step out of the showers, the cool night air hits you, and a tingle of unease settles in since the walk back to your cabin feels especially long in the dark. Yujin had left with Sungchan earlier, leaving you solo and curious about their relationship; they'd grown really close during the trip, and you wish you had the chance to ask her about it. Shrugging it off, you gather your belongings, take a deep breath, and start the trek back, the soft sounds of the night around you doing little to ease your apprehension.

As you gaze over the serene lake, mesmerized by the moonlight reflecting off its surface, a sense of tranquility washes over you, and you momentarily forget your worries. You spot Haechan sitting alone on the dock that stretches out over the water, his silhouette framed against the shimmering backdrop. Curiosity piqued, you debated whether to approach him; he seemed lost in thought, and something about the scene felt deeply intimate.

As you approach Haechan on the dock, the soft fabric of your towel robe sways lightly around you, a reminder of the hasty shower escape and your choice to skip the communal changing area. You feel a mixture of vulnerability and determination bubbling within you—this is the perfect moment to apologize for ditching him during tug of war and to express your gratitude for coming to your rescue. You sense a warm openness in the air. Summoning your courage, you clear your throat and prepare to break the silence, hoping to bridge the gap created by your earlier absence.

"You can really see the stars out here," you say, settling down on the weathered wooden dock next to him. The cool night air wraps around you, and the gentle lapping of water against the dock.

"It’s my favorite thing about coming out here to the middle of nowhere," he replies, his eyes scanning the sky, sparkling with a mix of starlight and mischief.

"I thought being my partner would have been the best part of coming to the middle of nowhere," you joke, nudging him playfully with your shoulder as a breeze rustles through the trees nearby.

He turns his gaze toward you, the moonlight illuminating his features, and a warm smile forms across his face, making your heart flutter.

As you catch him admiring your star-lit features, your smile fades slightly with the weight of earlier events. You turn toward him more seriously and say, "Hey, I’m really sorry about earlier. I didn’t know you were captain of the other team; I would’ve joined your side for sure."

He scoffs lightly, and that infamous smirk dances back onto his lips, infectious and teasing. "I knew you were going to choose Mark over me. It’s no worries." His tone carries a hint of playful exaggeration, but you can sense the underlying disappointment, mixing with the warmth of the night as the stars twinkle endlessly above, both an audience and a comforting blanket to your candid moment.

“And about the lake, I want to properly thank you,” you say, your voice earnest “I saw you swim in after me; I should have thanked you for trying to save me.”

“Look, it’s nothing. Just drop it,” he replies, running a hand through his hair, frustration shadowing his once playful demeanor. The way he shuts you down, the subject must be sensitive.

Somehow, after all your gratitude, you’ve managed to turn the mood sour. “No, because you’re clearly upset about something.”

“I came out here to get some peace and quiet,” he snaps, irritation flashing in his eyes.

“Well, too bad. I’m not leaving you alone until you accept my apology,” you shoot back defiantly, crossing your arms.

“You are a spoiled brat, you know that?” he snaps, shaking his head in disbelief. Instead of backing down, he stands up, and for a moment, you expect him to walk away to his cabin. But then he unexpectedly pulls his shirt over his head. Your cheeks flush, and you quickly look away, heart racing, caught off guard by the intensity of the moment. The cool night air feels electric, and as he stands there, bare and confident, you sense a mix of irritation and something deeper stirring between you, leaving you breathless with unspoken tension.

“You pervert, what are you doing?” You exclaim, shielding your eyes but unable to resist peeking through your fingers.

“Going somewhere you can’t follow,” he replies with a mischievous grin as he shucks down his bottoms, leaving only his boxers.

Before you can even question his intentions, he plunges into the lake with a splash.

“Haechan! What are you doing?” You call out, watching as his head bursts back up, catching his breath.

“You want to talk about it? I dare you to jump in,” he smirks, water dripping from his hair and the moonlight dancing on the surface around him.

That jerk! He knows you can’t swim. There he is, the Haechan you knew and hated—cunning and infuriating. “You think I won’t?” you challenge him.

“I think you don’t have a death wish. Not before fucking Mark, at least,” he teases, pushing your buttons.

“I do not want to sleep with him!” You retort, frustrated, realizing he’s just trying to provoke you out of spite.

“Not before you kiss him, right?” Haechan replies, his words laced with subtle venom, making your heart race with anger and confusion.

“What are you talking about? What’s your problem, anyway?” you snap, irritation bubbling up inside you.

All you have is your robe, and jumping in would leave you completely naked, but he must know that. He’s banking on it, counting on your backing down. “You don’t think I’ll jump in? Watch me,” you declare, defiantly shedding your robe and standing before him, bare and unyielding.

The late hour feels charged with adrenaline, both of you possibly the only ones awake while others are tucked away in their cabins or lost in the woods. Your focus sharpens on the mission at hand: wiping that infuriating smirk off Haechan's face, proving him wrong.

“What are you—” Haechan stutters, his face beet red beneath the moonlight as he treads water, clearly taken aback by your boldness.

“Save me!” you shout just before you leap in, diving into the cool depths. You hold your breath, trying to swim to the surface, but panic begins to set in when you realize it’s no use. In seconds, Haechan is there, pushing your body against his as he powers you both upward.

When you finally break the surface, gasping for air, Haechan doesn’t miss a beat to scold you. “Are you fucking insane? What’s your problem? What if you would’ve drowned?” The worry in his voice makes you realize just how reckless your stunt was.

His grip on you slips, but you quickly wrap your legs around his waist to steady yourself. “I knew you wouldn’t let me drown,” you say with a teasing smile, and for once, Haechan is left speechless. In that moment, he becomes acutely aware of your naked body pressed up against his; the coolness of the lake contrasts sharply with the warmth radiating from you. As your skin brushes against his, he struggles to maintain his composure, desperately trying to think of anything but the sensation of you against him, knowing that if he doesn’t, you’ll surely feel the evidence of his escalating emotions pressing against your stomach.

“You need to learn how to swim,” is all he says.

“Teach me”

Haechan spends the next hour teaching you how to float. You liked that the most because you could just lay back and watch the stars. The next hour he teaches you how to doggy paddle something easy enough for you to learn in such a short amount of time.

After the initial adrenaline rush, you realized just how close you two were. You noticed the way his skin warmed yours against the cool lashings of the water. You don't know how or why but your heart starts to race and suddenly you wish you would have thought a little harder about jumping in completely naked. His hands hover near your waist as you practice, and in that moment, the usual teasing banter dissipates, leaving an intimate stillness between you. Out on the lake, it was just you, Haechan and the stars that lit the deep, dark sky.

As the chill begins to seep into your bones, Haechan helps you back onto the dock, where he hands you your robe with an embarrassed smile. You quickly slip your arms through the sleeves, wrapping it tightly around your body, grateful for the warmth it provides. Just as Haechan tugs his shirt back on, you realize how close you were to him moments before, the intimacy of the swim still lingering in the air. "So, you ready to talk? What's up with you lately?" you ask, your curiosity piqued by the quiet moments that have felt so different between you two. His expression shifts slightly, and you can sense there's more beneath the surface, waiting to be uncovered.

“Mark wasn’t the one who saved you,” Haechan states after a thick silence, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. A shiver runs down your spine, the truth of the moment crashing into you.

“Well, sure he was. He said he pulled me out of the water,” you reply, but Haechan’s firm correction stops you in your tracks.

“We both pulled you out, but I was the one who did CPR on you, not Mark.”

Panic and realization ignite within you; Haechan was the one who had kissed you, the one who had breathed life back into you. The memory floods back—soft lips, warmth—and your heart races with the implications. “Are you kidding me?” you say with an incredulous laugh, frustration bubbling over. “Every. Single. Time. You do this every single time!” You stalk towards him the distance between you narrowing as you search for answers in his eyes.

His confusion was palpable as he struggled to grasp the depth of your feelings, completely unaware that for years he had been the invisible barrier between you and Mark. He had stolen your first kiss and now your second one as well, leaving you tangled in emotions you didn't quite understand.

“You cannot seriously be upset about that. Some thanks for saving your life,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes at the situation as if it were trivial.

Anger surges through you at his nonchalance, and you can't hold back the words that spill from your lips. “Fuck you!” you shout, the weight of your frustration fueling every stride as you storm back to your cabin, casting a final glance over your shoulder at the boy.

Your heart raced as anger coursed through you, mingling with an unwanted thrill that made you uneasy. You desperately wanted to push that feeling away; Lee Haechan could only ever make you feel disgust, not excitement. Yet, despite your efforts, you couldn’t shake the confusing mixture of emotions he stirred within you, leaving you frustrated and conflicted.

Despite your anger towards Haechan, he was the only one around lately, as Mark was swamped with camp activities and Yujin had been occupied with her partner. You couldn't help but recall teasing Yujin about their closeness. Being around Haechan felt risky after last night.. You weren't sure how you felt about him. There was a nagging emotion tugging deep in your gut and you were afraid of what it was. Even still, you figured awkward silence with him was preferable to slogging through Yujin's special edition of Moby Dick for a second time this trip.

Part of you was intrigued by the feeling bubbling inside—an inexplicable pull toward Haechan that you couldn't ignore. It was confusing, blending annoyance and curiosity, drawing you closer despite your better judgment.

Haechan seemed unfazed by your presence as you lounged on his bed, absently picking at a loose thread on your tank top. Surprisingly, you weren't as upset about the kiss anymore as you'd anticipated; the initial fury had faded, replaced by a sense of resignation. Given your streak of bad luck, perhaps you should have seen it coming all along.

“Are we really just going to sit here in silence?” Haechan sighed from his spot on the floor, tossing a poorly inflated volleyball into the air and catching it.

“Thank you for saving me,” you said, wanting to clarify. “I shouldn’t have been so harsh yesterday; I was just upset because the one step forward I thought I had was actually two steps back.” You tried to explain, hoping he understood it was nothing personal.

Haechan took a seat beside you on the bed and shrugged, a playful smile on his face. “I want to say I get it, but honestly, I really don't,” he laughed. “I’m a way better prize than Mark.”

You shoved at his shoulder, laughing, and for once, you weren’t preoccupied with all the things you disliked about him or the past he had put you through. As the evening wore on, you both found yourselves deep in an unexpected conversation, swapping stories about your earlier lives and uncovering shared interests in music, along with a mutual disdain for the mess hall dinners.

To your surprise, the tension began to dissipate, giving way to a reluctant camaraderie as you relaxed in his presence. In that quiet cabin, with the day’s light fading, something shifted in the atmosphere—something you couldn’t quite name yet, but it lingered like a promise of something more. Could you two actually become true friends?

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” he asks.

“Do you really not remember after all this time?” You ask skeptically.

Haechan joked, "Was I your first kiss?"

"Yes," you replied seriously, watching as his smile faded and surprise lifted his eyebrows.

"You never kissed anyone else before that? Well, lucky for you that you almost drowned," he quipped, trying to lighten the moment.

Confused, you shook your head. "What? No, not at the lake. Back in high school," you explained, frustration bubbling inside as you attempted to jog his memory. Haechan fell silent, narrowing his eyes as he searched his mind. You watched as the gears slowly turned, his expression shifting from confusion to sudden clarity, like a puzzle piece snapping into place.

"Chappy?!" he exclaimed finally.

You slapped his shoulder hard, fuming, “Yes, you asshole! Because of you, I had the worst 8th-grade year possible.”

Haechan’s mouth dropped open, and you could see the regret wash over his features. “I am so sorry. I never meant for that to happen,” he said, his voice laced with sincerity.

"Well, unlucky for you, that wasn't your only sin against me," you shot back, your tone sharp as you began to recount everything, filling in the blanks for him. By the time you finished revealing how many times he had sabotaged you throughout that year, the shocked expression on his face almost made you want to laugh—a bemused mix of disbelief and guilt that momentarily bridged the chasm of your shared past.

Another wave of realization crossed his face, and before you could ask if he remembered anything else, he said, "You must have hated me. You probably still do, huh?"

You answered honestly, “Maybe a little, but if there's anything I've learned from this trip, it's that you're not half bad,” offering him a small smile.

Haechan shrugged as he leaned back on his forearms. "Well, I guess that beats being a complete asshole," he replied, and you could see him processing all the new information. Suddenly, a devilish smirk appeared on his face, signaling that he was gearing up for another playful jab.

"If you think about it, those weren't really real kisses. They don't count," Haechan said, his gaze fixed on your lips. "If you want to have a real kiss, you'll need to practice. I can show you how, you know, so you'll know what you’re doing when you kiss Mark."

You hesitated, fully aware that Haechan's ideas were often terrible, but his playful intensity was hard to ignore. He leaned in closer, and as the air thickened with tension, you countered, "Well, if those aren't real kisses, then I still haven't had my first kiss. That means Mark still has a shot at being my first”

"Well, yes, but kissing me is different because we've already kissed. So any other kisses, especially ones done for practice, are null," Haechan argued, his eyes glinting with mischief. "That makes no sense," you replied, tilting your head in confusion. But then, with a breathless urgency, he added, "Kiss me." To your own surprise, you complied, drawn in by the moment's gravity, as the familiar spark ignited once more, blurring the lines between practice and something far more real. You didn’t know why you did it, but deep down, you blamed that feeling you had been trying to keep buried in the depths of your chest. As your lips met his, the warmth and flutter of emotions you thought were dormant surged back to life, leaving you breathless and questioning everything. The kiss stirred a whirlwind of confusion and desire, awakening a longing you had been too afraid to acknowledge.

You were awkward, that much was certain; you struggled to find the right angle, unsure where to place your mouth against his, yet you couldn’t deny the rush of warmth that spread through you at the contact. This kiss was different—driven and lingering, lasting longer than any before. You could feel his energy intertwining with yours, igniting something bold within you.

He pulled away slightly, a teasing smirk on his lips. “That’s how you kiss?” he quipped, and a wave of indignation washed over you. “Go to hell,” you shot back, rolling your eyes, but a newfound determination surged within.

With a fierce resolve, you leaned in again, pouring every ounce of passion you could muster into the kiss, playfully shoving him back until he was flat against the bed. You positioned yourself over him, straddling his waist, kissing him deeply again, letting go of all your inhibitions.

You pull away after a few more heated moments, breathless and eager for feedback. “How’s that? Better?” you ask, hopeful yet nervous.

���Hmmm, not bad, but you could use more tongue and you’re rushing,” he says.

“How am I rushing?” You retort, brows furrowing.

“You kiss like this; come here,” he replies, effortlessly pulling you back into another kiss. He bombards your lips with quick, short, frantic kisses and your shocked when he finally stops.

“No way!” you gasp, eyes wide. You kisses were definitely rushed and a little desperate. You cant help the way your cheeks heat up.

“Yes! So if you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Mark, you better practice,” he says with a cheeky grin, leaving you flustered and eager to improve.

The fact that you could count your steamy interactions with Haechan on one hand while not being able to recall a single one with Mark left you vexed. It felt as if the universe was trying to convey something crucial to you—actually, scratch that; it was YELLING at you. Every thought for the past hour had revolved around Haechan.

His soft lips, that cute smile that recently made your heart race, the way his soft brown hair begged for your fingers to tangle in it, and the warmth he radiated that made you crave closeness. You wanted to scream, overwhelmed by the intensity of your feelings bubbling just beneath the surface, pulling you closer to Haechan despite the nagging logical part of your mind.

You tried to remember all the sweet moments with Mark—his laughter, the way he made you smile, and those cozy evenings together—but nothing worked to take your mind off Haechan. For hours, it felt like Haechan had consumed your thoughts completely, his playful smile and warmth overshadowing everything else.

Today's activity was hiking, and while everyone paired off, you decided it was time to step up your game. You needed stories to impress your roommate, Yeri, who doubted your chances with Mark. Spotting Mark alone with his planner, you approached him. "Hey Mark! Let’s partner up; I haven’t seen Haechan around."

“That actually works out, apparently Hyunjin got sick and is sitting out today.” Today might finally work out in your favor.

RIP to Hyunjin, but honestly, that was the best news you’d ever heard. As long as Haechan stayed out of the way, you could spend so much more time with Mark. About ten minutes later, everyone began the trail after checking in, and you felt a surge of excitement. Haechan ended up tagging along with Jeno and Jaemin, which you were grateful for, but a glance at his face made it clear he wasn't thrilled about you ditching him. Deep down, you hoped he would understand; after all, this was a chance you couldn't pass up.

Today was so perfect, it almost made you want to cry. The weather was lovely; despite the heat, a refreshing breeze blew often enough to keep you cool. As the group began to disperse, stopping to admire the scenery, it ended up being just you and Mark. As long as you didn’t glance back at the people about ten feet behind you, it felt like you and Mark were the only ones in the world. This was the most you had ever spoken with him, and soon a comfortable silence settled between you two. Your heart soared with every smile and laugh he shared, filling you with indescribable joy. This was right—this was where you were meant to be.

“You know you’re really cool; we have to hang out back on campus,” Mark says, breaking the silence.

“Of course,” you reply with a smile.

“You’re not just saying that, right? You promise to hang out with me?” He asks teasingly.

“I should be saying that to you; you’re not too cool to be seen with me, right?” you counterplayfully.

“Absolutely not,” he states with a tone of finality, and you believe him. Throughout the trail, you take plenty of photos of Mark and the beautiful surroundings, even snapping a few selfies together. Tomorrow will be your last day with him, and you’re certain that, above all else, you’ve gained a friend. As the sun sets and you walk back to camp with a lightness in your step, you spot Haechan engrossed in conversation with a girl who laughs at everything he says. Jaemin and Jeno are nowhere in sight, and unease settles in as you notice the way Haechan looks at her and how she stands too close for comfort. Mark notices the change in your expression and follows your gaze, a knowing smirk dancing on his face.

“Haechan, huh? I always thought you two would be cute together,” Mark says teasingly.

“Huh? What are you talking about? I don’t like Haechan!” You reply, trying to brush it off.

“I can practically see the jealousy radiating off you. Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” he laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“No, no, you’ve got the wrong idea,” you start to insist, but suddenly, a voice cuts you off.

“MARK!” Jaemin calls out, standing with Jeno and Chenle. “We’re heading to dinner! We can’t promise to save you a seat, so hurry up!”

“I’m coming!” Mark shouts back, then turns to you. “Are you coming?” With a heavy heart, you reply,

“Nah, I think I’m going to head back,” attempting to cling to the remnants of your joy. As Mark walks away, your resolve crumbles, and you fight back tears, feeling the sting of his words. The realization that Mark believed you had a crush on Haechan cuts deep, turning your emotions into a bitter swirl.

“Well, you know who else would make a cute couple? Me and you,” you think angrily, silently cursing him for misinterpreting your feelings.

You were livid. The emotions swirling inside you were a chaotic storm—jealousy, hurt, confusion—but anger was the one that cut through clearly and sharply. Anger was familiar; anger wasn’t confusing. Fueled by it, you stormed over to Haechan and interrupted his conversation with the pretty girl, who was hanging onto his every word. Without uttering a single word, you seized his arm and yanked him away from her. He followed you, bewildered but compliant.

You dragged him towards your cabin, deliberately ignoring the whoops and hollers from Jaemin and the others. Their laughter and commentary only fueled your resolve. They probably thought it was some melodramatic jealous lovers' spat. You didn’t care. Mark had only ever seen you as a friend, and after all these years, you were beginning to accept that he probably always would.

You burst into the cabin, startling Yujin, who was busy packing for tomorrow's departure. “I need a moment, Yujin. Do you think you could...” You start, but the words fade as she swiftly grabs her phone and exits. The door clicks shut behind her, sealing you in with Haechan. Finally releasing his arm, you spin around to face him with fire in your eye

"You! Always Lee fucking Haechan! Since the beginning of time, you've done nothing but get in my way! I'm so sick of you; stay away from me!" You scream, feeling the weight of your emotions lash out. You know it doesn't all make sense, but in the heat of the moment, you couldn't care less.

Haechan narrows his eyes, defensively replying, “I don’t know what your issue is, but I didn’t ask to be your partner if that’s what you’re mad about. If anyone should be upset, it’s me! You ditched me today and then snatched me away like some jealous girlfriend when I’m trying to get laid!” His annoyance only fuels your fire.

“Tragic! Try being cock-blocked for years!” You shoot back, the words spilling out as raw emotions clash in the air between you.

“Can’t cockblock if you never stood a chance,” he sneers, a smirk playing on his lips, but you let the insult roll off your shoulder—if he wants to bite deep, you can certainly bite back.

“And you think someone as pretty as her would have given you the time of day?” You mockingly laugh, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Please, in your dreams,” you add, relishing the way his expression shifts, a mix of anger and disbelief flashing across his face as the words sink in, igniting the tension that crackles between you both.

“Well, you didn’t seem to have a problem talking to me,” he says, and you open your mouth to retort, only to close it in confusion—did he just indirectly call you pretty? The realization swirls in your mind, making it hard to concentrate. “You want to know what you are? You’re selfish. You use me to get close to Mark and then just throw me away. You were supposed to be mine, you hear me? You think I want her? I want you!” he declares, closing the distance between you, and as his words sink in, your mind races to catch up, grappling with the intensity of what he just revealed and the undeniable heat of the moment.

“I want you,” he repeats. “Do you hear me?”

Your heart betrays you, racing faster than you'd like to admit, while your limbs feel unsteady and weak, like jelly under his intense gaze. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, a sensation more intense than anything you’ve felt before, and you wrestle with the surge of feelings you'd tried so hard to suppress. But when he reaches out, cupping your face gently, you don’t shy away; there’s no twisting in disgust. Instead, your eyes soften, and you lick your lips, anticipation thrumming in the air as he draws you in slowly, inching closer until you're just a breath apart, the tension palpable and electrifying.

“Tell me you want me,” he murmurs.

“I do,” you whisper back, your heart racing with each word.”

“Say it.” His insistence draws you in deeper.

“I want you.”

“And who am I?” he presses, seeking affirmation. He wants you to acknowledge that you’ve chosen him, not by chance or coincidence but by deliberate choice, over Mark.

“Lee Haechan,” you breathe, almost as if casting a spell. His name feels imbued with a kind of magic, because in that breath, he kisses you, and everything around you blurs into a mesmerizing haze. His lips move against yours—slow and deliberate, every sensation amplified, as if he’s savoring every second. His lips are warm and soft, brushing against yours with a tender urgency. The contact is electric, sending a shiver through you that pulses with each heartbeat.

As his lips continue to dance against yours, the softness of his touch is a gentle counterpoint to the intensity of the moment, creating a tantalizing balance of passion and delicacy. His hand, still cradling your face, provides a reassuring sense of grounding. The gentle parting of his lips was an open invitation to surrender to the kiss and let him slip his tongue inside your mouth. You could taste a hint of his mint gum as the kiss grows more fervent. His other hand finds its way to the small of your back, pulling you even nearer.

You soon realized that Haechan’s kissing “lessons” would have never worked on Mark. Haechan had shown you exactly what he liked—how he wanted to be kissed, how he wanted to be touched. Through these lessons, he had sculpted you into the perfect match for him. You had become attuned to his desires because he had made you so—you were made uniquely for him.

Haechan was never going to help you win over Mark—how could he when the two of you went together?

You’re not quite sure when it happened, but suddenly you realize both your shirts have been pulled off, his warm skin pressing against your stomach and through your bra. His hands travel down your back, gripping your hips. As your feet shuffle, your back meets the mattress of Yujin’s bed, since you usually sleep on the top bunk. You know you’ll have to apologize to her later, but at the moment, thoughts of anything other than Haechan vanish from your mind.

“I’ve always wanted you; I never forgot you,” Haechan confesses, pulling away from the kiss. His lips find your skin again, kissing softly along your shoulder and down your chest. “I’m sorry. I’m going to make it up to you—all night if I have to, until you forgive me,” he promises, gently pulling your bra down before lavishing kisses on your exposed skin. The quick nips of his teeth elicit small, involuntary moans from your lips, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

“I don't know; it might be awhile before I can forgive you for the chappy bit,” you tease, your breath hitching with excitement.

He chuckles softly, his confidence shining through. “You can stay as mad as you want; just means I have more time to work my charm”

The laugh that you let loose turned to muffled moans as you bit your lip as he seductively licks his way down to your body until he's pulling at your shorts and underwear. You were both covered in a light sheen of sweat already after from the warm summer air so his skin stuck to yours as he pressed your naked bodies against each other. He settles between your legs and nuzzles into your neck as he rocks his hips into yours. Each pass through your folds had his length more and more slick with your juices. You glide your fingers through the back of his head before you tug, pulling him, wanting to join your lips again, wanting to swallow his moans.

You could feel his desperation in the way he kissed you. He kissed you like he had been waiting a thousand years to get you exactly where he wanted you. He kissed you like he had missed you. He kissed you like you were supplying his last breaths. This is when you knew it.

It was never going to be Mark, not if Haechan had anything to say about iy.

You lock eyes before you shift your hips in a way that has him slipping deep inside of you. You wouldn't tell him but you find it amusing how, no matter how far back you looked, you always had strong feelings about him. Weather that was anger, irritation, or adoration. He always made you feel something. He made you feel.

Mark made you think.

Think about how you would get him to like you

Think about whether you would ever be enough for him

Thinking and obsession all over him

The way Haechan controls his hips as he drives deeply into you has you curling your legs around his waist. You couldn't describe the feeling as anything other than drunken ecstasy.

Your breaths intertwined, creating a melody of soft moans and whispered exhilarations that echoed in the stillness around you. The heat from your bodies mingled with the warm air of the early evening, amplifying the intoxicating blend of passion and desperation that lingered between you.

His gaze, filled with an intensity that made your heart race, locked onto yours as he captured your lips once more, deepening the kiss The world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you wrapped in this shared moment of intimacy.

You could feel every pulse of pleasure radiating through you, each one more potent than the last, as he pressed deeper, his hands firm on your thighs, anchoring you to him as if he were afraid to let you slip away. The sensation was electric, sending shivers down your spine, and you reveled in the way he made you feel so completely alive.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a sultry whisper that sent another wave of heat pooling within you.

All you could do was moan in response, arching your back and urging him on, your body craving more of him, more of this exhilarating connection that felt so right yet so incredibly wrong. You were aware of the uncharted territory you were embarking upon, but the allure was too potent to resist.

He shifted, locking you against the mattress as he picked up the pace, the intensity of his movements sending you spiraling further into bliss. You surrendered to the sensations, to him, letting every ounce of pleasure wash over you like a tide. In that moment, the chaos of your thoughts faded, leaving only the euphoria of the now and the magnetic pull you felt toward him.

“Make me yours,” you breathed, your voice thick with desire as you searched his eyes for assurance.

His expression shifted, a mix of mischief and sincerity washing over his features. "You were always mine," he urged, his lips brushing against yours, igniting yet another spark of passion as your bodies moved in perfect harmony.

As the world faded away, everything came down to this—two bodies entwined, two souls colliding in a moment that felt both inevitable and exhilarating. And as he filled you completely, you understood that this connection was one you had always longed for, a connection that set fire to your inhibitions and awakened a part of you that had long been dormant.

You had no idea how you would explain this to Yeri back at home—how you left on a mission to win Mark but managed to bring Haechan back. You thought back to the way he had made you feel—how vibrant and alive he made you feel. It was exhilarating and undeniably real, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of it all.

“Is something funny?” Haechan murmured, looking down at you with a playful sparkle in his eyes, breaking you from your reverie.

“Just thinking about how hard it’ll be to explain all of this,” you chuckled softly.

He arched an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh? And what are you going to say?”

You shrugged, unable to hide the smile creeping onto your lips. “I guess I’ll just have to tell them that life has a way of surprising you.”

A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear. “You could say you went for one guy, but the universe had other plans.”

You giggled, feeling the playful banter flow between you. It was easy, natural. Just like this connection you had found, so unexpected yet somehow right.

In that moment, nestled against him, you realized you didn’t care how you would explain it. You didn’t need a plan or a story—what mattered was how you felt right now, the joy and passion igniting your heart. You had gone out seeking one thing, and you had indeed found it—but in Haechan. You found something amazing.

[highvern]

When I Kissed the Teacher

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, humor

Summary: Mr. Kim has a crush, to his students that much is clear. It's also clear that you like him too. What happens when a group of meddlesome ten year olds decide to play cupid for their two favorite teachers?

Warnings: science teacher mingyu, grammar teacher reader, meddling students, crushes, flirting, lots of candy and coffee

Length: ~5.2k

Note: it's here! thank you to @gyuwoncheol and @gyuswhore for beta reading and to my lovely @tomodachiii for fact checking my knowledge of primary school lol

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Turning from the white board, Mingyu faces the room full of weary children. Mondays are hard. Early mornings are hard. Learning the difference between reptiles and mammals first thing on Monday morning is downright torture. But it’s nothing a little bribery (read: candy) can't fix.

"Alright class, today we're learning about animals! Who remembers what a mammal is?"

Mingyu barely finishes his sentence before a sharp knock interrupts.

“Mr. Kim,” you seethe from the doorway.

Mingyu turns around immediately, eyes wide in fear at your tone. “Yes?”

“Can I speak with you? In the hallway?”

The class of ten year olds “ooooh” as their teacher trails after you like a kicked puppy. If they weren't awake before they sure are now. He shoots a silencing look back before dipping out the door where you wait, foot tapping impatiently.

“Would you like to explain where all my printer paper went?”

Mingyu tries to play dumb. “I don’t know?”

“Oh really?" You blink. "Because I found the box in the workroom and guess what was on the printer? More of your worksheets for your class!”

“How do you know they were for my class?”

You don’t answer, in favor of shoving the animal themed coloring sheets into his chest harshly.

“Listen, anyone could have…” He trails off under your withering glare.

“If you need paper, ask!”

Mingyu burns under the reprimand. “Oh, like you asked to use my paints last month?” 

“That was an accident!" you argue, eyes wide. "And I replaced them.”

“Alright, then I’ll replace the paper I took.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

With a curt nod, you turn to leave; unaware of the blushing cheeks and heart eyes following your retreating form. But the gaggle of elementary students waiting for Mingyu's return see them clear as day; their fits of shrill giggles and whispers falling on deaf ears as he shakes off the stars clouding his mind.

Mr. Kim, their goofy science teacher, has a crush. And like children are wont to do, they hatch a scheme to help him out.

—

“Alright. Do we remember the difference between fragments and sentences?”

The classroom ripples with tiny voices shouting “yes” with varying degrees of confidence. Their last quiz grades are proof they haven’t quite grasped the subject yet but that’s why you’re planning for an intensive review with them today.

“Awesome! So our warm up today should be a piece of cake. I’ll help with the first one so let's all look at the boa—”

A knock at the door cuts you off. Mingyu stands in the threshold, looking positively mischievous. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Ms. y/l/n. But can I speak with you in the hall?”

Forcing a smile, you respond. ��Certainly. Class, why don’t you all work with your desk partner on the worksheet and when I come back we’ll go over the answers?”

They break into groups, chattering about everything but the work you’ve assigned; most notably the way Mr. Kim beams as you follow him outside. However, once you’ve crossed beyond the border of the brightly decorated room, twenty pairs of ears strain to hear why Mr. Kim interrupted their morning lesson.

“What's this about?” you ask.

Mingyu smiles, eyes shifting to the floor. “Here's the paper I owed you.” 

“You’re kidding.”

Three hefty boxes are stacked next to your door. It’s far more paper than Mingyu used for his color sheets, and more than you’d probably need for the rest of the semester.

“I thought you could use extra since you’re too stingy to share.”

“I’m not stingy!” You scoff.

Mingyu simply flashes another self-satisfied smile before heaving a box into his arms and carrying it into your classroom. He could certainly carry all three boxes at once; anytime there were desks or anything else remotely heavy to be moved, Mingyu did so with ease. But the kids don’t think anything of the way he so obviously drags out the torture.

The kids watch Mr. Kim weave through the maze of tables towards the back of the room.

“Lia, can you open the door for me please?”

The little girl jumps from her desk and bolts for the supply closet, braids bouncy with each step.

“In here okay?” Mingyu asks.

Blinking from your stupor, you turn back to your desk as you answer. “Yeah, it’s…whatever.” 

Your class stopped their work to focus on the unfolding drama between their two favorite teachers. They don’t know why you can’t seem to stand their science teacher, and it’s anyone’s guess why Mr. Kim has decided to interrupt their grammar lesson for something so silly. But it’s clear that whenever you two meet an argument is clear to follow. And in the guidebook of elementary school, if you like a girl, you always argue with them.

So enthralled in your silent battle of wits with the peppy man, you miss the two girls plotting in the corner.

Hana turns to her friends with breakneck speed. “Did you see the way Mr. Kim smiled at her?”

“He’s so in love,” Arin sighs dreamily.

“And Miss y/l/n is blushing! We should help them.”

Their whispers are cut off when you clap. “Alright! Back to work!”

Mingyu lingers by the front until you forcibly shoo him away, huffing at the permanent smile stretched across his lips even when the door slams in his face.

“Meet at the tree during recess.” 

The two girls nod and return to their worksheets.

A new week comes with new challenges. Today’s is the universe’s determination to make your life as difficult as possible.

Your alarm didn’t go off, your shoddy dryer left you with damp clothes, and your car battery decided a short strike would be a great way to start the freezing morning. There was barely time to wash your face with cold tap water let alone put on makeup or style your hair. To top it all off, the green lunchbox with leftovers from your favorite restaurant sits on the shelf of your fridge which means the crumbled granola bar at the bottom of your purse will finally see the light of day.

Flicking on the lights, you rush to prepare for the day. By the grace of god your first period is planning time so no students witness your near breakdown from the absolute shit storm of the morning. Not much is to be done since you already organized everything you needed Friday afternoon but the tense events of the day leave you feeling off. Not even a cup of coffee with the creamer you reserve for days like these helps the overwhelming unease rippling in the back of your throat.

Your allotted private time washes by and before you know it, a gaggle of students filters into your room, giddy on holiday spirit and sugar. The first five minutes of class are spent reminding them their butts belong in chairs at their own stations, that the warmup is for them to complete on their own, and if they aren’t feeling well enough to do classwork they need to go to the nurse.

Twenty minutes into the lesson and the worksheet for their quiz on Friday finally manages to capture their attention. A few students struggle but most are sailing through. Its the same material as last week just with a new puzzle for them to complete once they have all the correct answers.

“Alright, who can tell me what word fits for number six?” you ask.

The attentiveness you’ve sweated to cultivate all morning dissolves when a volunteer knocks to distribute candy-grams.

“Delivery!” a young woman sings as she enters, dressed in red from head to toe with heart shaped sunglasses and a sparkly headband. Her wicker basket flows with candy bars wrapped with shiny ribbon and cardstock penned with confessions.

The shrill symphony of oohs and ahhs as the kids receive pieces of candy raises the vein on your temple. 

“And for Ms. y/l/n!” the young woman sing-songs, heart headband bouncing as she approaches your desk.

The cardstock reads one of the cheesy messages the school provides for the Valentine cards they sell as a yearly fundraiser.

‘I like you a choco-lot! - your secret admirer’ 

You throw it into a drawer in your desk, oblivious to the crestfallen faces of two little girls watching with rapt attention. 

“I don’t think she likes chocolate,” Arin whispers.

“No. Remember during Halloween? She said her favorite candy is Twix. She gave Gabi an extra point on the spelling test when she brought in her halloween candy and gave them to her.” 

“Well maybe she’s mad because it wasn’t a Twix!”

“Maybe. But Mr. Kim didn’t react to the note on his desk this morning either,” Hana huffs. “But he was late so maybe he didn’t see it.”

Your second attempt to put class back on track falls flat. Instead of group review, kids come up to your desk one by one to check their answers while you nurse your headache until the bell dismisses everyone to their next destination. Another crop of students flood the seats, emotions running high from who did and didn’t receive candy in their last class. Two students end up arguing about who knows what and then proceed to break into frustrated tears.

You bite your tongue to stop from doing the same and put on one of the movies you reserve for days like these.

When Mingyu walks into your room after school ends and all the kids are dismissed for pick up, you give him a look that sends him turning around and exiting the way he came without a word.

Tuesday brings a better attitude. Mostly because you get to take all of your class to the library for silent reading. But the homemade stirfry sitting in your lunch box in the teacher’s lounge helps too.

Your second period kids spread out through the room, some sprawled across the worn rugs on their bellies while others curl up in the much coveted bean bags; a few choose to hide between the imposing bookshelves, crowded on all sides by the smell of old paper. 

With an overly sweetened latte sitting in one hand, and a new novel in the other, you perch at the long table near the librarian's desk to ‘supervise.’

“How did you manage to get a copy of The Gate? I couldn’t even get the pre-order before it sold out.” Elise, the librarian, asks. 

You smile into your coffee cup before responding. “Eh, I know a guy.”

“You do? I thought you didn’t date?”

“I don’t.” You nod. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t have connections.”

“Well whoever your ‘connection’ is, send them my way when you're done with him.”

You pretend to ponder before answering, “I’ll think about it.”

Snapping your book shut, you rise to gather the kids to return back to class. It takes several minutes as a few refuse to join the line until their current chapter is finished and Kai pulls out the puppy dog eyes, begging to stay all day to finish his book. 

You corral them out the door with promises of more reading time on Friday if they behave well the rest of the week. Some roll their eyes but most nod enthusiastically at the opportunity to skip on their weekly quiz.

Unlocking the door, you unpack your things and find a basket of Valentine’s on your desk to be passed out. Almost all the kids receive at least one, some find two or even three heart shaped sugar cookies on their desk. Your heart squeezes when some of the students decide to divy up their cookies and gift them to the students who didn’t receive a note. 

The last cookie at the bottom of the basket has a note with your name on it and a message in the same swirly script as yesterday’s.

We go together like milk and cookies. - your secret admirer

As far as cheesy Valentine’s go, you’ve seen worse. But free snacks are free snacks and the confection tastes great dipped in your coffee.

Your fourth period class focuses on their worksheets, silently deciphering the reading and ticking of questions. You promised whatever group finished first with the most right answers gets a special Valentine treat; full sized candies and extra credit on Friday. 

Whatever it takes to keep them focused while you work through grading everything for your other classes.

You don’t notice the man waiting at the door until one of your kids greet their science teacher; a ripple of tiny ‘Hi, Mr. Kim!’s following. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mingyu announces from the door. “But, ugh, the volunteer accidentally gave me this.”

“Oh! Thanks Min—Mr. Kim.” 

You take the can of orange soda from his hand and skim the note.

I have a ‘crush’ on you. - your secret admirer

None of the students can read the note from their seats but you and Mr. Kim look equally bashful. 

“What are you guys working on? Mingyu asks, hoping to diffuse the tension.

A cacophony of voice race to explain their assignment. Mingyu pretends to understand, smiling at their enthusiasm and grabbing a worksheet for himself. 

He plants himself in one of the tiny plastic chairs next to your desk meant for ten year olds rather than a grown man of his size. It’s comical the way his knees brush his chest and any small move across the slippery seat threatens to land him on the floor.

Reviewing the sheet, Mingyu announces, “Alright, how about if you guys finish your work before me, we can have a pizza party in my class on Friday?”

More screams bounce off the walls.

“You guys can’t finish if you’re talking to Mr. Kim,” you remind them.

The room descends into a cozy calm; the sound of pencils on paper, your keyboard clicks, and the soft jazz from the computer speakers blending together.

You don’t look up to grab the answer key from the corner of the desk, Mingyu huffing from his seat at being caught.

“No cheating,” you smirk under your breath.

“Creative strategy,” he argues.

Instead of answering you shake your head and continue to focus on your own tasks. 

Ten minutes and twenty emails later, two groups of students rise and approach your desk at the same time. 

“We finished first!”

“No, we did!”

“Guys,” you interrupt them. “I’ll grade them both and whoever has more right wins. Besides, Mr. Kim owes you a pizza party anyway.”

The entire class cheers at the news while Mingyu playfully pouts. Maybe if he hadn’t given up on his worksheet to snoop through the basket full of snacks on your bookshelf, he wouldn’t be eating his own words.

The second group of students to approach your desk ends up victorious. You mark down their candy orders to pick up on your weekly grocery shopping trip on Thursday night before sending them to back up their belongings so you can all head to the cafeteria.

“What’d you bring for lunch?” Mingyu asks as he walks with you to the teachers lounge to retrieve your lunch boxes.

“Pasta salad.”

“Wanna trade?” 

“What’d you bring?” you ask, handing him the black grocery bag you know carries his lunch.

“Pasta salad.”

You roll your eyes and kick the fridge shut.

—

After lunch you have another free period. The printing room is empty so you take advantage and make enough copies for the rest of the week. Perhaps Mingyu wasn’t wrong to bring you three boxes of paper.

Lugging the stack in hand, you turn down that hall only to find a familiar face standing guard outside your classroom.

“Arin? Why are you in the hallway? You should be in class.”

“I was just…going to the bathroom!”

“Really? Because there's a bathroom right outside Mrs. Lee’s classroom if I remember correctly.”

“It was gross!”

Considering Mrs. Lee’s classroom sits on the main hallway and intersects with two other grades, it probably looked more akin to a battlefield than a restroom at this time of day.

“Okay…but hurry back. And I’m gonna let Mrs. Lee know what took you so long so she isn’t worried.” 

You side step around her but she moves right into your path. And then again. And again.

“Arin, what are you doing?” 

“Sorry, Ms. y/l/n. I don’t feel good. Can you walk me to the nurse?”

Crouching to her height, you rest the back of your hand against her forehead. Arin never admits she doesn’t feel well even when she’s tinged green and hacking up a lung. It’s the perfect admission to keep you from peering past the threshold of your classroom and blowing the entire operation.

Until a loud crash and high pitched scream breaks the silence of the hallway.

You jump back up.“What the—”

“Wait!” Arin shouts, throwing her arms and legs wide to block your path like a three foot tall ‘X’.

“Arin, what is going on?” 

“Mr. Kim said animals make themselves bigger to be scarier,” Arin says, tiny face scowling.

“And why are you trying to scare me?” 

Another bang echoes out the classroom forcing you to pick the little girl up by her armpits and carry her inside with you. She slips from your hold as you stare with a wide mouth at the scene. A desk is pulled up to the board allowing Hana to balance atop it as she scribbles across the chalkboard.

Wil you be my Valintin? - Mr. K

“Hana! What are you doing?”

“Arin!” Hana huffs indignantly.

Arin opens her mouth to respond but the look on your face silences both girls. You help Hana down from the desktop before crossing your arms in front of you and taking a deep breath.

“Sit. Now.”

They trudge to the seats next to your desk; heads hung low, tears brimming in their eyes. Neither has been on the receiving end of such a reprimand before; they’re usually your best behaved students.

You allow them to stew in silence as you right the two chairs Hana knocked over. She doesn’t look injured which is a relief but your nerves are shot from the perplexing situation. Hana and Arin can be troublemakers but they’ve never done anything like this before.

Once you're certain the urge to yell at them is quelled you approach your desk and take a seat. You watch them expectantly. Arin chances a glance up and swiftly looks back to her lap while Hana focuses on the picture at the edge of your desk, blinking away tears.

“Girls,” you sigh. “What were you doing in here?”

“Ms. y/l/n,” Arin blubbers.

Presenting the tissue box, you wait several moments while they both dab their eyes and blow their noses before speaking again.

“We just thought…” Hana starts, glancing at the other girl.

“Thought what?”

“Mr. Kim’s in love with you and we wanted to help!”

“I see.” You nod. “Did Mr. Kim tell you that?”

They look at each other before shaking their heads ‘no.’

Your temple throbs from the situation. A measured breath through your nose sends the girls into a frenzy.

“We can tell!”

“You’re perfect for eachother!”

“And did Mr. Kim ask you to sneak into my classroom while I wasn’t here?”

“No ma’am,” they mumble in unison.

It dawns on you that the two girls have been behind all the gifts you’ve received this week.“Are you two behind all the Valentine’s I’ve gotten?”

“We were just trying to help!” cries Arin.

Moving to crouch in front of them, you wait until they both look up at you.

“It’s very sweet what you were trying to do and I’m sorry I yelled at you. But you can’t sneak out of class. What if something happened and you got hurt climbing the table?”

“I’m sorry,.” Hana says.

“Me too.” 

You pass them more tissues to wipe their noses.

“How about we get you two back to class?”

“But what about Mr. Kim?”

“Yeah! He needs to know how you feel.”

“That’s between Mr. Kim and I. Understand? Those are grown up things.”

The repulsion painting their faces forces you to bite back a snort. Instead you offer your hands, pinkies extended towards them both.

“How ‘bout this? I promise to talk to Mr. Kim if you two promise no more meddling. Okay?”

All three of you share a smile as you intertwine their pinkies with your own. 

“Now,” you say whilst jumping to your feet. “You are supposed to be in Mrs. Lee’s class. And you are supposed to be at the library.”

Escorting them both back to where they belong, they can’t help but giggle when you pass Mr. Kim’s room and he waves. The question is clear on his face but you shrug your shoulders. 

You’ll explain everything later.

You smile knowingly at the corner of the classroom where two little cupids sit as the volunteer brings you a lollipop with a note reading ‘I’m a sucker for you.’

Part of you feels guilty they pooled their own money together to supply you and the teacher next door with treats all week in an effort to play matchmaker. But another part can’t help but laugh. And when you get the chance to tell Mingyu what they’ve planned you’ll no doubt laugh harder.

But because the universe somehow knows you lied to your students the day prior you find your reckoning in the cafeteria.

It was Mingyu’s fault. Or at least that’s what you argue. You barely made it three steps inside the room before the large man bulldozes you; sending his lunch and your own down your fronts in a palette of greens and browns.

His eyes widen in horror as a slice of tomato peels off your shirt and flops to the floor. “I am so sorry!”

“Seriously?” you choke.

The entire school watches with baited breath. Students and teachers alike watch with abject horror as you skirt around the taller man and flee with shaking shoulders and your chin dipped into your chest. Mingyu gapes like a fish as you run by, frozen in place. As hundreds of eyes settle on him, he realizes they all saw how he drenched you in salad and coffee. 

Mrs. Lee dismisses him with a nod, silently agreeing to watch his class so he can trapeze out to his car and find something suitable to wear.

—

Mingyu watches the game of kickball unfold across the field, keeping an eye on the rowdier students as they pick teams. But even from a distance he recognizes one face is notably absent.

He finds Kai slumped on a bench at the far corner of the playground using a stick to draw lines in the dirt at his feet.

“Hey, buddy. You feeling okay?” Mingyu asks. 

Kai never misses a game of kickball. Even when his arm was in a cast at the beginning of the year, he insisted he only needed one good arm to play defense and neither to play offense. Kai’s mom simply laughed at Mingyu’s concerned email and said her son was exactly like his dad and there was no stopping him if he was set on something.

So to have the little curly haired boy isolated on the far edge of the field is serious cause for concern.

Kai looks up briefly at Mingyu’s approach before returning to his mud art. “Mr. Kim, have you ever liked someone?”

“Liked someone?” Mingyu drops onto the bench next to him.

“Like,” the little boy inhales trying to explain himself. “Like a girl?”

Mingyu snuffs out his chuckle at Kai’s innocent question. “Yeah, why do you ask? Do you like a girl?”

“I–My friend does!”

“Okay,” Mingyu nods.

“And he doesn’t know how to tell her.”

“Well that's tough.” 

“How’d you tell the girl you liked?”

“Well,” Mingyu drops to a whisper. “Once upon a time, I had a crush on this girl. And she was the prettiest girl I ever saw. Smart and funny too.”

“Did she run fast?”

The question confuses Mingyu at first but then he remembers he’s talking to a ten year old and the rules of attraction hinge on who gets the swing the highest and jumps off.

“She ran really fast,” he nods. “And she made me so nervous I couldn’t talk to her. My palms got all sweaty and my face turned red.”

“That happens to m—I mean my friend!”

“And it feels like there's a bunch of frogs jumping around your stomach?”

“Yeah,” Kai nods. “So how’d you tell her?”

“Well one day, I finally decided to introduce myself. Walked right up to her, opened my mouth and…poof.”

“Poof?”

“Poof.” Mingyu hangs his head. “I forgot everything I was gonna say to her.”

“What happened after that?”

“She waited a few minutes and then said ‘okay, I’ll meet you at 6:30 for dinner.’”

“She knew you liked her?”

Mingyu nods gravely before imparting his most sage wisdom. “Girls are very smart, Kai.”

“So I should try and tell her I like her?”

“Your friend should at least try,” Mingyu shrugs.

Kai blushes, having been clearly caught. “But what if she doesn’t like him back?”

“That’s okay. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim. You’re the best!”

“You’re welcome, buddy.” Mingyu gives him a fist bump before shooing him back towards his friends. “Now go play kickball, the boys need your help.”

Kai runs off but a new presence fills the vacant seat on the bench. 

“I thought we agreed to keep our romantic life a secret at work.”

Mingyu smiles sheepishly before turning to look at you. “Oh, you heard that?” 

“Yeah, I heard,” you smile. “They already think you have a crush on me.”

“Smart kids.” He says, enjoying the way the worn sage button up swallows your figure. 

Mingyu loves when you wear his clothes, he told you this morning when you stole his favorite jacket. Which is why you both took almost twenty minutes to gain your composure after he spilled an entire tray of food on you. 

Mingyu swears he didn’t do it on purpose. How could he have known you were coming through the door at that very moment? But he’d do it again if it meant seeing you in one of the spare shirts he keeps in the truck again. Even if it meant he’d also sustain minor coffee burns.

“They think I have a crush on you too.”

You watch the way he traces your collar bone, catching the twinkle of the diamond pendant resting at the hollow of your throat; his birthstone. It was the first piece of jewelry he bought you when you started dating almost a decade ago. 

You hadn’t taken it off since the day he gave it to you with shaky hands and red ears.

“Do you?” He asks.

“Do I, what?”

“Have a crush on me?”

“Oh Gyu,” you coo at him. “I have the fattest crush on you.”

“Damn right you do.”

Sitting outside with an entire audience of other teachers and students doesn’t allow either of you to fall into the familiar comfort of adorning kisses or airtight hugs. But Mingyu’s pinky brushing yours in the ample space between your figures is enough for now.

Friday is Valentine’s day which means all the kids don red and pink outfits and prepare for a day of candy filled fun. You spent all morning helping the art teacher set up paint stations. Why she cashed in on the long owed favor with such a simple task was beyond you but the monotony is a nice change from the chaos you’ve experienced all week. When second period rolls around, you shuffle back to your classroom; welcomed by the line of students waiting outside your locked door. 

“I swear! I saw Mr. Kim and Ms. y/l/n at the grocery store last night.”

“Hana, Ms. y/l/n said its grown up business. Maybe you just saw people that look like them,” Arin shrugs. “And I don’t wanna get in trouble again.”

“It had to be them!”

They quiet down as they walk past your figure, smiling like cherubs when you greet them.

Students file in one by one, shrill voices echoing from excitement. Most cheer about their pizza party with Mr. Kim later that afternoon, a few squeals about the set of Valentine’s their parents sent with them to handout. 

Your ears catch a few other snippets of conversation as you wait for the stragglers to make it by. 

“Oh my gosh those are so pretty!”

“Those look like the flowers my mommy likes!”

Curiosity gets the better of you, forcing you to step into the room and see what the kids are talking about. 

An explosion of pink camellias resting on your desk. Huge blossoms with pale pink petals spill over the sides of the vase, slips of greenery sprinkled throughout. Approaching your desk, the floral aroma fills your nose. The blooms feel like soft velvet under the pad of your finger tracing the largest one in the center of the arrangement.

Who on earth?

As if on cue a mop of black hair peaks in from the hall. Mingyu eyes the bouquet and the pleased look on your face before allowing his own to break into his infamous smile.

“Just wanted to make sure they got here safe,” he calls.

You whip your head up, eyes wide and mouth open at the can of worms he just spilled.

“What?” Mingyu asks innocently. “Can’t a man buy his fiancee flowers?”

He disappears with a wink but his laughter at the chaos he’s stirred up can be heard miles away.

“MISS Y/L/N YOU’RE MARRIED?” Mark screams.

Another shrill voice answers, “Fiancee means they’re almost married, idiot!” 

“You lied to us!” Arin and Hana chorus.

Dropping into your chair, you hide your burning face in your hands. Coincidentally it also hides your shy grin from the hoard of ten year olds jumping in their seats at the news.Mingyu is in so much trouble.

A few weeks before the new school year starts, a group of nearly eleven year olds crowd into the pews of the massive church at the center of town. Stained glass reflects patterns over the marble floors, casting them in a rainbow of colors. 

Some sit on their hands to calm the adrenaline pumping through their tiny veins. Others rock back and forth in an effort to watch Mr. Kim strut down the aisle in a fancy looking suit. 

But all of them gasp when you turn the corner.

You look like a real life princess in your wedding dress, floating towards their science teacher waiting at the altar with tears and a smile matching your own.

When you and Mr. Kim kiss, the girls squeal and the boys blush.

Several rows ahead sits a small group of older students, who’ve long graduated elementary school and are headed to college in a few days. They exchange satisfied smiles and pat themselves on the back for getting their favorite fourth grade teachers together all those years ago.

Maybe now your new classes won’t try playing Cupid like they do every year given Mr. Kim finally married their favorite teacher.

-

Fic taglist: @tacosandbitch @leechanniee @syprosight @prettygyuuu @itza-meee @cottoncheol @ashluvy @jkslvsnella @xuimhao @vanishingboots @miujunhui @viciousdarlings @imprettyweird @akeminy @sana-is-ms-rmty @jayfrvr @watermelonsugawara @bouclesdefeu

Permanent taglist:

@cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @tomodachiii @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @gyuguys @primoppang @mine-gyu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[cattolino]

like me better.

pairing: lee minho x f reader. warnings: hand kink, fingering, praise kink if you squint, slightly narcissistic minho but he just loves himself too much lol, implied oral (m receiving). genre: smut, strangers to friends to lovers/fwb....? rating: explicit. word count: 2.6k

Changbin’s roommate had the sexiest hands.

And you said exactly that.

Lee Minho was a second year digital arts student and taught dance classes in his spare time. With an experienced dancer body and a face that looked sculpted by the Greek Gods themselves, Minho was accustomed to admiring remarks about his ideal body proportions, his muscular and flexible physique, his thick and sinewy thighs, his excellent and toned pecs, his sharp jawline, his plump and pouty lips, his pointed nose, his big and round eyes… and the list went on because everyone always had something to talk about when it came to Lee Minho.

As a complement to his exquisite appearance, he had just the right amount of confidence that made people either want to be with him or want to be him. It was like every fragment of his being was the pristine example of transcendence beauty. Very praiseworthy. And everyone should be jealous. Minho was aware of all that. To be frank he relished in the heart eyes of people as they walked past him.

But then Changbin brought you into his shared apartment to work on a project together.

Instead of widened eyes and parted lips and a stuttered breathing like the reactions he’d gotten from most people, you beamed and happily greeted him with an unashamedly loud and sincere “oh, wow, you’re really pretty! And nice hair, too!” before following Changbin to the living room.

Your compliments were honest. But clearly lacked worship. And where’s the ulterior motive in the eyes begging to get fucked? Thought anyone wants him in bed? Minho blinked, glancing at your back.

And then it was the umpteenth time you came to hang out. You and Changbin doodled on your respective sketchbooks but you’d been too distracted to carry on. You were blatantly staring at Minho’s hands chopping some vegetables on the kitchenette across from you. The next minute you casually told him that he had the sexiest hands you had ever seen.

He couldn’t help but choke on his own spit coughing profusely as his knife clattered against the cutting board. Changbin eyed you with a clear “what the fuck” look evident on his disgusted face.

Because when people say something about Minho’s hands, it would be that they were nice or soft or chubby or just anything else other than sexy. You shrugged, “I said what I said.”

You weren’t joking. His arms might not be as beefy and massive as Changbin’s, but you thought they were the perfect amount of toned and well-defined. The veins protruding along the skin of the back of his hands and forearms especially when he was straining might be the cause of your sudden moan. The width and length of his hands were below the average of an adult male that you likened them to kitten paws sometimes.

But his fingers… Well, they were thicker and longer in size than most people you hooked up with. And most definitely much thicker and a little longer than yours.

So yes, when you said his hands were the sexiest you had ever seen, you weren’t joking.

“You should stop saying I have nice hands.” Minho commented with a laugh one day.

You were filling in your glass with ice water from the fridge as he leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed against his chest.

“Oh, but I never did.” You denied, before sneaking a quick glance at him with a chuckle, “I said they’re sexy.”

“And you mean it?”

You turned on your heel with a glass full to the brim, “from the myriad of hands I’ve observed, yes, yours belong to the sexy category.”

He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, brows furrowing amusedly as an idea that’d been invading his thoughts lately travelled down to the edge of his tongue, threatening to be let out. And he did, “so you have a hand kink.”

You hopped onto the counter and paused for a moment, taking a gulp from the glass, letting the cool liquid freshen up your throat as you stared up at the ceiling. And then you shrugged, “yeah, that makes sense.”

If Minho was surprised at your nonchalance at the accusation, it wasn’t shown through his face as his grin widened and he laughed. You glanced over at him with a raised brow, “what?”

He shook his head, “do you usually go around telling people you like their hands and admit it right away when they tell you that you might have a hand kink?”

“Not people. Just Changbin and you.”

“You like his hands too?”

“His hands are sexy.”

“Sexier than mine?”

“Gotta be honest, no.”

“I always love your honesty.”

“You mean you love the compliments.”

“So you like my hands better?”

Your eyes narrowed with interest, all while the distance between you and Minho had eventually gradually scaled down. He was practically standing between your legs, and the glass in your hand was the only barrier between your chests. You took another sip of the cold water, “depending on what needs to be done.”

“I’ll make it easier. Whose you’d prefer to have around your neck?”

“What the fuck kind of conversation did I just heard?” Changbin stood behind you across the island counter with a pair of ice packs attached to the back of his thighs. Yesterday was his leg day.

Minho shrugged, “just kinks and stuff.”

Changbin’s face contorted in disgust as he walked around to grab a can of diet coke from the fridge. He sauntered back to his bedroom, leaving the scene with a shout, “I don’t care if you bang each other. Just not in the kitchen!”

Minho shouted back, “suggestion accepted!”

You rolled your eyes with a giggle, pushing his chest away with a pad of your finger and about to hop off the counter but you caged you in. He took your glass and put it on the counter, leaning in to speak lower despite his roommate having been out of earshot.

“So whose hands you like better?” You thought it was just another flirting attempt, unless there wasn’t a sign of it on his face when he said that. Instead, his eyes were searching for yours as he was waiting for an answer.

You smiled.

Perhaps you had a hand kink. Combined with the attractive Lee Minho? And you’re dead.

You were settled in his lap, back flushed against his chest as he reclined back against the leather headboard of his bed. His legs intertwined with your own, holding each of your legs apart as his hand smothered along the inner of your thigh. His other hand rested around your throat, keeping the back of your head stilled on his shoulder as his lips moulded with yours.

Once his thumb added a slight pressure to the side of your neck, you released a shaky breath into his mouth. And he smiled against your lips.

He discarded his shirt, leaving himself with only his boxer shorts. The whereabouts of your skirt and shirt were vague in your head. Probably in the doorway of his room where he’d had you pinned against earlier, or somewhere at the foot of the bed where he’d dragged you from to settle between his thighs. Somehow you just ended up in only your panties and bra.

He caught your lips again. His hand trailed up to the warmth of your center, fingertips gently rubbed against your clothed cunt before he hooked a finger around your panties and dragged the thin fabric to the side. You pulled away once the cool air caressed your bare entrance, head thrown back on his shoulder and releasing a long sigh as he began stroking your clit.

He nibbled the shell of your ear. The hand on your neck cradled your jaw, pulling your head off of his shoulder for you to look down. “Watch.”

And God, were you so soaked already.

Even in the dim of his room you could still see how his palm and fingers were glistening, his slick-wet skin reflecting the lights from the night lamps at each side of his bed. But hotter than all of that was the protruding veins that bulged along his arm all the way to the back of his hand as his fingers persistently rubbed your clit, each stroke leading his middle digit to dip deeper into your entrance. You squirmed and mewled, legs lightly shaking at the mere sight of it.

There had been a few nights out with alcohol in your system where someone would have their fingers deep inside your walls and make you moan out loud. Minho wasn’t the only person who’d laid a finger on your sensitive area trying to get you off, but nobody had ever managed to get you drenched with only the tip of their finger barely inside you like he did now, no. To his credit, there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in your system. Only a few gulps of cold water.

The amount of slick you produced pooled in the creases towards the center of his palm. You gripped his wrist tight, whining out loud cries of his name as he kept assaulting your clit with perseverance. His lips stretched wide into a pleased grin, chin resting on your shoulder as he himself watched his middle finger slowly sink into your entrance.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

His thirst for compliments. Seriously.

The answer was, his. His hands were just so oddly sexy it was ridiculous. But curse him and his overflowing confidence and overwhelming self love. You might want to tease him a little.

You bit down onto your lower lip as you watched his finger sink deeper and deeper, your walls clenched at the intrusion. Your grip around his wrist loosened, letting him go inside of you further. You let out a long exhale, and hummed, “Changbin.”

And all the increasingly pleasant tinglings coiling up in the pit of your stomach forcefully boiled away as he pulled his finger out. You turned to him with furrowed brows of disapproval.

“Better ask Changbin to make you feel better than I could ever do then, darling. I’m afraid I’m not up to your standards.” His lips pursed into a feigning frown as he spoke. But in contrast to his disappointed pout, he brought his hand up to his lips, licking his drenched digits clean with a sensual movement of his tongue without breaking eye contact.

You wouldn’t lose to him. You’d get what you wanted. You weren’t the only one affected here, if the slight poke on your backside was anything to go by.

You mirrored his pout, palm wrapping around his wrist and bringing it back down between your thighs. He let you, but only until his palm hovered over your folds, barely touching you. His face twisted with an impish grin, “you know the magic words.”

Still with a feigning pout, you leaned close to plant kisses up his jaw, then settled your head back down on his shoulder. Your face nuzzled the side of his neck. “Of course I love your hands better, silly. Isn’t it obvious enough?”

“Better than everybody else’s?”

If you had learnt something else about him tonight, it was that everything seemed to be a competition for him. Or he was just eager to have your sole attention on him. Tsk.

You hummed.

His fingers thrusted once.

Then twice.

“Words, baby.”

You grinded down, shifting backwards to where a tent of his erection poke your backside. He groaned at the slight contact, then humping forward to get more friction, while simultaneously adding the second finger in.

You giggled, “better than even my own hands.”

It was all he needed to give you what you wanted. His middle and ring fingers were sliding in and out of your walls in an unforgiving pace that made your thighs quiver. His other hand found its place around your middle. You looked down, purring when you watched his fingers only get wetter and wetter as they kept disappearing and reappearing inside of you.

“Oh—” you sighed, nails clawing at his arm, “good… feel so good…”

As if his fingers weren’t already tormenting enough, his hips began jerking forward, his clothed bulge grazing and rubbing between your ass.

Your eyes threatened to slide close at the tingles in your stomach that gradually evolved into an overwhelming bliss the more he assaulted you from both sides. And yet you couldn’t give up on keeping track of the indecent sight down there; his thick and long digits invading your walls and poking deep into your bundle of nerves, his whole hand coated with your juices and the drenched sheets beneath you.

It was too much. His fingers were too much. His throbbing clothed length was too much. The sight was too much.

And then you convulsed, your walls clenched hard. Head thrown back, curses and his name and an endless of “good… good… good…” spilling out of your parted lips. It wasn’t a plain white ceiling above your head, but stars and white and sparks.

His fingers curled, drawing more of your juices to dribble out of your hole.

When had been the last time you came you hard with just two fingers inside you? But it was two thick fingers and veined hands of Lee Minho we’re talking about here.

You heard a loud pop beside you. Minho was licking clean his slick-glazed fingers. “Tastes so sweet,” he hummed in delight.

Even in your fucked out state, your mind went towards the prominent erection that kept twitching against your backside. Hell, you could even feel his precum even through his shorts and the thin lace of your panties.

“You haven’t— you haven’t come… you…” you said between ragged breaths, attempting to turn around.

He chuckled, sliding his shorts off and helping you lay on your side between his legs. He carefully pulled you closer where your head could comfortably rest on his bare thigh.

He combed through your hair that was half wet with sweat, moving the stray strands out of your face before stroking your cheek softly. Maybe you shouldn’t have only paid attention to his sexy, veined hands because oh my God he looked godly from down here. Perhaps you eventually grasped the obsession people had over him.

You almost gave into the gentle touches of his hand on your face, head still hazy with the most blissful orgasm you’d had in a long while— if it wasn’t for a distracting view presented right there for only you to gawk at.

Your hooded eyes fixated on the glory of his length that stood proud against his toned abs. Your hand reacted faster than your hazy brain, mindlessly reaching for the base and stroking it lightly.

Your eyes were big and pleasing when looking up at him, wordlessly and helplessly asking for permission. He snickered.

“Pretty,” he caressed the side of your face down to your jaw, “so pretty for me.”

Then he brought his hand up to his face. He licked his thumb. The pad of his forefinger tipped up your chin, and his thumb rushed over your parted lips, coating the plump flesh with his spit.

His unoccupied palm led your hand to properly wrap around the base of his cock, guiding you to stroke and palm the head. And when you thought he was about to jerk himself off using your hand, he dragged your face closer with his other hand and hovered the tip of his cock over your lips, precum slowly dribbling out of its slit.

He parted your lips wider with a thumb, smiling down at you, “my turn?”

[nicholasalexanderchavezdimes]

Creative Differences:

Summary: You’re a rookie actress being cast in a romantic comedy with Nicholas but things come to a head when he seems a little less than thrilled about it.

You were sat at a big table with your management team. Your leg was bouncing up and down frantically, you had been anticipating this call back for a week and it felt like hell on earth. You thought you had done exceptionally well, the audition was lengthy but nothing you hadn’t been able to handle before.

You picked at your nails as you sat with your team, knowing if you didn’t get this film role you’d have to officially call it quits ( a promise you had made to your dad once your roles had slowed down.)

You were just starting to lose hope that your phone would ring when suddenly it started to, loudly echoing in the half-empty room.

Your manager Rose smiled at you with a wink as she quickly picked up the line. Rose was more of a mother figure to you than your own, and when you counted your blessings you always counted Rose twice.

You felt your entire body warm with hopefulness as she placed the phone on speaker.

“Hello? May I speak with Y/N Y/L/N’s head management advisor?”

“Yes! This is Rose!” She brushed her thick curly hair away from her face, using her fingers to tuck her frizzy curls behind her ears.

“We would like to move forward with the casting process…”

James went into lengthy detail that felt like a blur after you heard you would be moving forward with the casting process. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, knowing this would be the push you needed to make this career work.

••••

You sat in a casting director's chair to wait for Nicholas, you had made it to set earlier than intended but you wanted to make sure you had a zero chance of being late.

You had never met Nicholas in person but were familiar with his work, which only made you insanely full of nerves. This was your first movie and it was a romantic comedy, Nicholas wasn’t exactly hard to pretend to be attracted to so you figured this would be easy.

He was also quite literally off the heels of his biggest break yet, and you knew working beside an Emmy winner in a movie would be a great look for your resume.

Nicholas was admittedly very easy on the eyes, standing six foot one, and appearing to garner the attention of the room as soon as he walked into it. His laugh filled the room, and the corner of his eyes crinkled as he cracked jokes with everyone.

It was clear that he was the star of the show, and he knew it. He carried himself with a lot of confidence, but it didn’t come off as cocky which surprised you a bit.

He graciously walked right over to you, which left you speechless as he extended his hand to you. “Hi, I’m Nicholas! Nice to meet you!” He smiled with his eyes as they practically sparkled against the set lights.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, standing to eagerly shake his hand. “I’m y/n! We have a chemistry read today!” You weren’t doing the best job at keeping your excitement well hidden but he found it endearing.

“Yes, we do!” A chuckle escaped him. “Is this your first film?” He eyed you up and down, noticing your nervous tics immediately. You had been drumming your fingers against your thighs since you stood up.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” You giggled, feeling your face grow warm.

“Not at all” he replied sarcastically with a big grin before leading you to set with him.

You had wondered if he was always this charming, or if it was a facade for the sake of a chemistry read but you shook off the feeling immediately.

The two of you practiced lines from an intense scene together, you eventually had to sit in his lap and make it seem convincingly natural although he was still a stranger.

He was good at improvising and you followed his lead as the board of directors and casting simply gave the two of you a nod signaling you were just about done with the chemistry read.

As soon as the two of you broke away from one another Nicholas had a different demeanor than he did just an hour and a half earlier. He seemed almost slightly frustrated or annoyed, but you couldn’t pinpoint why he would be.

“Alright! We’re going to break for lunch and we will call you both back for a final read!” A very tall thin woman named Natalia winked at the two of you before quickly walking away.

“Hey, Nicholas-“ you turned to him nervous that you had overstepped but he was quick to disappear, and you wouldn’t quite admit it out loud but you were slightly disappointed.

You walked over to the craft table hoping to see him there but were only met with disappointment as you grabbed a turkey croissant and an apple juice.

You walked outside on the lot, the sun was out and you wanted to take advantage of that as you chose an empty table to sit by yourself at a table before you noticed him.

Nicholas was sitting at a table across from the casting directors shaking his head in annoyance before you noticed someone beside him lightly nudge him at your presence.

He was waving his hands around, talking with them when you realized what he was going on about. It didn’t take you long to realize what was going on, and when the two of you finally made eye contact it felt like a stab in the chest.

You quickly picked up your lunch, before rushing to leave, the pit of your stomach ached knowing what was happening.

“Go fix that! Now!” A casting director spoke through gritted teeth toward Nicholas.

You didn’t have the slightest idea but this film had already been delayed twice, and if you didn’t take the job it would be stopped altogether.

“How are we supposed to play lovers when it’s clear he doesn’t want that?” You thought to yourself as you felt warm tears rolling down your cheeks. Your phone started to ring, and your dad’s first name appeared against the screen. He always had the worst timing but you knew deep down that you couldn’t avoid him forever.

You were just about to answer your phone when you heard Nicholas calling out to you. You felt defeated, not wanting to face him but stopping in your tracks anyway as he approached you.

“Can I just explain? Please?I know what that looked like and I’m sorry. I just need a chance to explain.” He was frantic but you couldn’t tell if it was authentic or not. He seemed like he was being honest earlier and that quickly changed.

Nicholas was a fantastic actor, you’d give him that.

You turned to him, mascara-stained cheeks and all. Your phone was still in your hand, your dad’s name scrolling across it.

“Do you need to get that?” He swallowed, feeling a wave of guilt in his stomach at the sight of making you cry.

“No. It’s just my asshole of a father.” You didn’t mean to say it but you were full of emotions and Nicholas wasn’t helping, considering he was the primary source.

“Care to share?” His eyes softened at the sight of you. He wouldn’t say it to you just yet but that chemistry read felt a little more real to him than he’d admit in this very moment.

“Not until you tell me what your problem is.” You wiped your face as best as you could before sitting against the brick wall beside you. You weren’t normally this emotional but something about him made you that way.

Maybe it was just the embarrassment talking.

“Okay, fine. It’s going to make me sound like a diva.” He joked although you didn’t find the humor in it as your face was deadpan and waiting for him to say more.

“I think you’re great! I think the chemistry read was too but-“ he sat beside you, nervous that you’d scoot away and was pleasantly surprised when you didn’t.

“This would be your first film right? Do you know exactly what that entails?” He knew once the words came out of his mouth he’d regret it.

“Are you being serious? You don’t want to work with me because I’m a “rookie?” You scoffed, annoyed at him for forgetting he once was too, and not that long ago.

“I never said that! I never said I don’t want to work with you!” His voice was high-pitched now, oddly defensive.

“I said I was concerned you wouldn’t be able to handle the long days. We have sixteen-hour days sometimes y/n! It’s a lot different than television shows with multiple episodes!” When the last part came out of his mouth, his face turned rosy as he realized what he had just admitted.

As soon as those words came out of his mouth, you realized he was familiar with your work too. A small smile crept across your face before you replied.

“I promise you nobody wants this more than I do.” You sighed, showing him the text message that had come through from your dad as the two of you had been talking.

Nicholas scanned through your dad’s essay of a text message, focusing on the words “has been” and how your dad wanted nothing more than for you to come work for his high-class firm instead of wasting time.

“Well, you’re right! He’s an asshole!” Nicholas made an uneasy face as he handed you your phone back, silently thanking his family in his head for being so supportive.

“Takes one to know one” You shrugged knowing he’d only let it slide because he deserved it.

“That’s fair. I may have misjudged you a little” he admitted before standing up and offering you his hand to get up from off the wall.

“A little?” You had your arms folded against your chest, still frustrated at the way today had panned out.

“Let me make it up to you? I’m a really good rom-com boyfriend- promise!” He smiled, hoping you’d agree to stay as he still offered his hand.

You took his hand, nodding in response as you let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Can we start over?” He poked his bottom lip out at you for dramatic effect making you smile a little.

“Yes, I’d like that. But Nicky and yes that’s your new nickname. You owe me!” You smiled before continuing to talk to him. “You should probably know that before we go back out there. You have lettuce in your teeth.” You giggled as he gasped and checked his teeth using the phone that was in his pocket.

“The whole time?” He was rosy red again, blushing with embarrassment.

“It’s really the only reason I forgive you. I couldn’t focus on anything else you said. ” You teased making him let out a boisterous chuckle that let you both know that things would be just fine.

[solbaby7]

Hiii, can I get a margarita with a salt rim on the rocks, please? Thank you!💕

[ “got a mouth on you. someone should teach you how to use it.” + smut + rhysand ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

Rhysand liked wild things—had this affinity for collecting strays; plucking them from their prisons and providing a life of freedom and luxury.

Maybe that’s why he’s so drawn to you. This rabid animal of a thing with a serious aversion to proper clothing and absolutely no regard for others personal boundaries. “Back for more charity work?”

“Is that how you think of my visits? I’m hurt.”

You look down at him with amusement, crouched low on a branch with a skirt so short it takes effort not to stare. “We both know you aren’t,” You make tree climbing look easy, bare toes trodding across branches that don’t look sturdy but hold strong bearing your weight. “What’d you bring me this time?”

Rhysand dangles the wicker basket before him with two fingers. He’s teasing, offering; luring you in closer as the laws of the Middle insists that its lands and the creatures in it must welcome you and not the other way around. “Come see for yourself, trouble.”

He’s grown fond of the wild way you move, confidently twisting and ducking through the forestry—the breathable linen of your strapless top flows with the breeze. Handmade necklaces kiss at your clavicle, all braided leather with bleached bones, carefully woven shells and shiny geodes. Once you get close enough he can see the neat braids peeking through loose strands, interwoven thread adding pops of color in haphazard places. “More naughty words on paper,” You chuff out when the weight of two books sits in your hands. The pages are pristine; probably first addition and perfectly cared for. “Always knew you High Lords were just pampered perverts.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you when you read the last two I brought you.”

Rhysand is sure he’ll have dreams about the pretty blush on your cheeks. He’s certain fantasies have planted their seed with intent to grow and grow like fucking ivy until nothing in sight could be see but you and that feisty furrow of your brow and the sharp roll of your eyes. Curious hands dig around the basket, sifting through cured meats and cheeses, parchment paper and oil pastels, rich fabrics and a case full of fresh sewing needles. “You trying to turn me into a fucking housewife or something? Charcuterie boards and fixing the buttons on your rich boy clothes.”

“Got a mouth on you.” Rhys chuckles in amusement, aubergine irises twinkling with silent adoration. “Someone should teach you how to use it.” You don’t seem the slightest bit ashamed when forcing him to hold onto your things, urging him to follow with a jerky nod of your head. “Could start by saying thank you.”

“Make me.”

Something in the air shifts. It alters the way he stands. Awakens a creature lurking in his shadow and its sights lock on you—the female with no fear of monsters. No, instead you hunt them, wrangle them up and tame them. Rabid beasts crooned into fucking house pets and Rhysand yearned to be the stray you took pity on. “Make you use your mouth properly? Or make you say thank you?”

“Both.” He’s hooked; shoes sinking into your footsteps until thick forestry breaks into a clearing with a house built smack dab in the middle. It’s surrounded by flowers, lavender and lemongrass guarding hand built basins labeled with fresh produce to fend off freeloading animals. Ivy creeps up one side of the greenhouse attached to the back. “Show me how to do it like they do in the books you bring me.”

Is it possible for a mouth to dry up and salivate at once? Because Rhys suddenly finds his in an odd mix of something in between. You barely notice the clumsy way he sets aside your basket of goodies but you’re fully aware of the eager way he pulls you in, stopping you from taking a step further. “You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

You scan the length of him, running over the strong set of his shoulders and the practiced ease in the way his arms rest at his sides. Every breath strains against the soft cotton of his shirt, solid muscle radiating warmth when you rest the palm of your hand against it. It’s a slow drag down and you feel no shame for your curiosity when exploring the length of his abdomen, fingers hooking in the loop of his belt. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.” The metallic click of his belt unbuckling, the sharp undoing of tied dress pants. “But, I’m a visual learner.” Rhys’ heart throbs in his chest when you sink to your knees, blood rushing lower until the true extent of his affection towards you is standing at attention in your face.

“I can help with that,” He’s already easing down the top of your shirt, groaning at the sight of bare breasts and pebbled nipples. “Though, my teaching style is a little more…hands on.”

You don’t have time to ask what that means when he’s giving you exactly what you asked for; tugging down his pants just enough to show off a throbbing erection, ruddy tip leaking pre-cum. Two fingers tap at your cheek twice and you have no control over the way your mouth drops open.

He knows he’s being a little rougher than he should—it’s probably your first time giving head and yet he can’t slow down his movements. You don’t even complain, breathing through the way his cock is fed to you, spit glistening along the length and dribbling down your chin. “Quick learner, aren’t you?” Rhys praises so prettily, such nice words spewing free as if he wasn’t rutting his prick down your throat.

Thumbs clear away the tears from under your eyes when you gag. The rasp of his voice urging you to work harder, to hollow your cheeks and run your tongue along that vein that has blunt nails digging into the nape of your neck. Swears spill in a sloppy slur, hands guiding the bob of your head until his release shoots down your throat with a choked grunt.

There’s no way you don’t look a mess when you peer up at him. Fucked out eyes. Tears tracking down your cheeks. Bruised lips. A wet patch dripping down your chest and still you utter the words, “Thank you.”

Just perfection and something inside him screams ‘mine’ the same time Rhysand replies with a breathless, “You’re welcome.”

[justaaveragereader]

Prey For Me

Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Genre: Smut, Dom!Jongho, Sub Reader, Marriage Au

Warning⛔️: Dom/Sub, praise, unprotected sex(wrap it tf up!), manhandling, rough sex, fingering, possessive Jongho, marking, primal/prey play, oral (receiving), cream pie, cum play, spanking, choking, manhandling, mirror sex, if I missed anything let me know👀

nsfw & warnings under the cut - minors dni!!🔞

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh baby…You wanted to do this tonight? You really are spoiling me.” Jonghos voice echoed out through your shared home. You had brought up to him months ago that you wanted to try a new kink you had read about, primal play. Jongho in his day to day life was a soft hearted, sweet man, he was always good to you. Yet in the bedroom? It was a whole different ball game. Jongho would have you seeing the galaxy, that's how good he was. He was always so dominant and each time you’d love to push his buttons a little more and more. When you had brought up the idea to him, he immediately was on board.

These last couple of weeks for Jongho had been so busy, he was in and out of the office so much, working himself for the perfect life you both lived. He finally had a full weekend off and on Friday you wanted to try things out, which would take Jongho completely by surprise.

~

The house was pitch black, it was well past 10pm. Jongho entered his home, placing his suitcase on the ground. Flicking on the light switch he realized the whole house was dark, no lights were lit, nothing was on. The only light that was illuminating the house was the lightning outside, a hard roar of thunder cracked. He let a small smile grow on his face. He started to undo his tie, slowly walking further into his house, it was clear as day you cut off the fuse box just for this moment.

“Oh my love, you really do spoil me.” You heard him call out, his voice echoing in the home causing your cunt to clench, you could hear his leather shoes clack against the ground, the sounds echoing around you. Letting out a small chuckle, he started to unbutton his suit coat, you could clearly hear every unbutton being done. He was taking his time with you, the ball was in his yard and were you two going to play. You decided to stay hidden in the pantry. You could hear him but he was not in your sight, yet you knew he was coming close, like he was sniffing you out.

As each step grew closer, your cunt got wetter, he was stalking you out, waiting to pounce at the right moment.

“I can smell that sweet cunt from here. I know you are dripping wet for me already. Go ahead baby, rub on that pretty pussy for me.”

Biting your lip to suppress a moan, you knew you were dripping from the thrill of him finding you, searching for you, stalking you like you were his next meal, that alone had you ready to cum. Trying your best not to touch yourself you crush your legs together hoping to get some stimulation to hold you over til he finds you. His shoes echoing with each step, his stride was so confident, he knew he was going to find you and turn you out. You should’ve stretched prior to this because you know, you will not be walking tomorrow.

He stops right before the kitchen, suit jacket off, tie undone, his black button down, with two buttons undone at the top, that cocky smirk on his face, and his eyes that are glazed over, he looks feral yet so delicious. You hawk him down through the cracks in the pantry door, watching his every move, the air is thick with desire, thick with lust, thick with want.

“I’ll even give you a head start baby, I’ll count to five, so you can pick a new hiding spot.” He walks slowly around the island, shoes echoing with each step, your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. You clutch your shorts, excitement tingling your spine. You hear him let out a small chuckle once more, he walks backwards, eyes drifting to the pantry door, a smile crept on his face as he exited the kitchen. Your hand slowly opened the pantry door, quietly trying to make a run for it, quickly trying to run out of the same exit Jongho had left from, darting to your bedroom. You quietly open the door, dashing inside. Stopping right before your bed frame when you notice his suit coat is laid out on it.

“My, my, my, what do we have here?” His husky voice echoed through the room. Causing you to freeze in place, your hands trembling with excitement. He got you exactly where he wanted you, falling right into his trap. Checkmate.

Slowly turning around you lock eyes with him. His body lax against the side of the door, his black button up unbuttoned right above his navel, belt undone, tie loose, and his head tilted back against the wall. His eyes were glazed over in feral desire, he didn’t even have to work hard for his meal to come to him.

You stood still, body slightly shaking, you made a move to the side of the bed, trying to place as much distance between the two of you. Clenching your thighs together as you move. Jongho studied your every movement like he was permanently burning it into his brain. He lets out a deep sigh, clearly enjoying this cat and mouse game.

“Baby, when I tell you I’m going to finger your pretty pussy till you cry for me to stop.” He lifts his body off the wall, eyes locking onto yours, taking small steps towards you.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard into the mattress all only thing you’ll know how to say is my name.” Your pussy clenches at his words. You bite your lip to keep in the moan that is threatening to escape. As he gets closer to you, you take a step back, he's creeping upon you like a tiger that is just waiting for the right moment to pounce.

“I’m going to cover you in marks so when you step outside people know who you belong to.” You back into the wall, you have nowhere to go, your eyes dart around looking for an escape. Shooting to the bedroom door. Just as you move your body to make a run for the door. Jongho speaks up..

“Don’t even think about it.” He grits out through his teeth.

You make a quick dart for the door before you can even get two feet off the ground. His hand shoots out wrapping around your throat, shoving you against the wall. You choke out a moan, his hand wrapping tightly around you. He brings his other hand up to play with the strings on your shorts before shoving his hand down your shorts, fingers grazing over your soaked panties.

“Oh baby…I’m about to ruin you.” He chuckles out, bringing his hand out of your shorts to suck the essence of you off of his fingers, tucking his head in between your neck, leaving wet kisses along your neck to your collarbone. Lifting you from the wall he walks with you carefully to the bed, dropping you on it, letting your body flop down. His eyes rake over you, he looks like he’s going to devour you in one swallow. Like he’s a starved man and you are his first meal, ever. His hands brush over your thighs lightly, causing your body to jerk. You are wound up so tightly that you are sure the first orgasm he brings you will have you seeing the milky way.

“Where should I even begin my little mouse?”

His hand comes up under your shorts sliding over your soaked panties again, he lets out a small groan. Hooking your panties he slowly drags them down along with your shorts, your wet cunt being on display for him. You let out a small whine at the feel of the cool air hitting your sopping cunt.

“Look at this pretty pussy. Is this all for me baby?”

He stares at your cunt like it’s a prized possession, likes it’s his treasure. Your cunt clenches around nothing as you buck your hips up. His fingers run over your puffy lips, soaked with your arousal.

“Jongho please touc-“

His hand swiftly comes down slapping your pussy, taking you by surprise you arch your back, the whine that means your mouth is damn near pornographic.

“Answer my question baby, don’t make me ask again.”

“Yes! Yes! Daddy it’s all for you, now please touch me.”

He plunges two of his thick fingers into you, causing you to let out a gasp, his fingers wiggle around in your cunt. Drawing them out slowly he slams them back in moving at a quick and skilled pace, the room already feels like it’s getting hotter. Your hand shoots down to grab his wrist, not wanting to cum just yet. He lightly slaps your hand away from him.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? I’m giving you what you want, baby.” He grabs you by the throat bringing you closer to his face, his two fingers still pistoning in and out of you. Pushing his lips softly against yours, you could taste the hard candies that he has in his office on his tongue, mouth as sweet as sugar. His tongue clashes with yours, the kiss heating up fast. He is soaking up the air from you with his lips, leaving you breathless. He slightly pulls away from your lips, a string of saliva still connecting you two, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip he nips at it, your head rolling back, toes beginning to curl, you are on the brink of an orgasm.

“You hear that baby? You hear how wet this pussy is for me? She’s been waiting for me to get home, hasn't she?” He chuckles out, fingers now slowing down, the tips of his fingers pushing right against that spongy spot in you, bringing his lips to your neck, he starts to suck bruises onto your neck, marking you for the whole world to see.

Drawing his fingers out he brings them up to your lips, letting your mouth open, you suck on his fingers, moaning at the tangy taste of yourself, your swore you heard a small growl leave him. Backing up he quickly unbuttons the rest of his shirt, leaving it wide open for you to rake your eyes over his well built chest, he had been attending the gym more with his colleague San and Yeosang and was it paying off.

“Get on the floor.” Scrambling off the bed as quickly as possible you kneel on the floor in front of him, pussy on display from the back in the mirror that he hung up purposely on the closet door, folds glistening as the lightning lights up the room, the sounds of the rain, and heavy breathing is all that’s floating in the room. He sits on the bed, you tuck yourself further in between his legs, your hands coming upon each of his thighs, nails slightly digging into the fabric of his pants.

“You are going to suck my cock like a good girl, and I might just let you cum.” Your eyes flicker from his face to his thick bulge in his pants, it looks like he’s going to burst through the seams at any moment. You undo his pants, shimmying them down his legs, your hands run over the muscles in his thighs, heavily hypnotized by the way they flex as your fingers sweep across his skin. His cock is red and oozing pre cum at the tip, standing hard and tall against his toned stomach. It sent a tingle down your skin to know that he was just as aroused as you were. You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. While he gazes at you like you are the most precious thing in this world. He slightly strokes his cock, precum continuing to ooze out, smacking his cock into your tongue, rubbing his precum over your lips before smacking it down once again. The weight of his cock on your tongue had your mouth watering, you hadn’t even started sucking him off, yet your mouth was starting to drool. He slowly thrusts his cock into your mouth, sliding in and out slowly. He always enjoyed how quickly you submitted to him, how much that action showed you trusted him was enough to make him bust quickly.

Palming the top of your head he grabs the back of it, bringing your mouth down on his cock, his slow and steady thrusts had your cunt clenching with anticipation of getting stuffed. He lets out a groan, his head rolling back in pleasure, trying his best not to cum at the sight of you kneeling before him with your mouth happily stuffed with his cock.

“Touch that pussy for me baby, get her extra wet.”

He murmurs out. Rolling his head forward to look at your glistening cunt through the mirror he sees you spread your lips open, slipping two fingers inside of yourself, causing you to moan on his cock which almost sends him into an orgasm. His hips start to pick up pace, your fingers matching the rhythm at which his hips are moving. His grip on your neck is getting tighter, you know he’s close to cumming, you let out a long hum sending a vibration onto his cock, causing his hips to buck up once more. Bringing your slick coated hand up to his balls, giving them a firm rub, wanting him to reach his peak quicker. He slows his thrusting down, bringing your mouth all way down onto him, your nose brushes over his skin, trying your best to breath out of your nose, giving his balls a firm grasp once more, he groans, unloading right down your throat, not even giving you the chance to taste him. The warmth of him fills your stomach up. Letting go of your head, his arm braces his fall back on the bed. His eyes are screwed shut, his chest is moist with sweat.

His black button up clinging to his skin, with his pants around his ankles, the room thick with lust, and your want for him clouding the room. Kicking off his shoes and pants he scoots back on the bed, muscular legs spread, his dick still hard, and a gaze now set on you that says he wants to swallow you whole.

“Come on pretty girl, get up here.” He says while patting the open spot in between his legs, crawling up from the floor you settle in between his legs on the bed, while your body is slightly towering over him, you clearly can tell who has the upper hand here, who is truly the power of authority between the both of you. With his finger he motions for you to turn around. Your back now pressed to his chest, his hand pushes open your legs, your soaking cunt on display, your inner thighs are dripping with your arousal. His fingers brush over your navel, causing you to shutter.

“So responsive today my love, look at my pretty girl.” He kisses the side of your head.

“Look at how gorgeous you are, my love, and I barely have touched you.” He kisses along your jaw, leaving small bruises into your skin once again. One of his hands hook your legs over his own so you are fully spread eagle for him. His other hand danced along your pussy lips, so close to touching your clit but so far away. Your hips grind up.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

You let out a small whine, trying to grind your pussy into his hand so you can get some friction.

“I want you, pleaseeee Jjong please touch me, I’ve waited all day for you.” He pauses from giving you hickies, smiling into your neck, breathing in your scent like he’s trying to permanently burn it into his brain. His fingers rub at your clit, taking you by surprise you let out a loud moan tossing your head back onto his shoulder.

“My god…” you whisper out quietly.

With his thumb on your clit rubbing slow circles his other fingers dance along your folds gathering all your juices up before plunging into your sopping hole, the squelching noises echoing the room, his fingers starting off with an immediate fast pace. Your hands try to find stable grounding by gripping the sheet. Biting your lip to try your best to keep your moans in, his fingers coming down hard while rubbing your clit.

“Look at me baby.” He groans out in a raspy tone, you tilt your head forward, locking eyes with him through the mirror, trying your best to keep your eyes open. The way his fingers are brushing along your spongy spot it has your toes curling in an instant. Your eyes screw shut as your body shutters and the feeling of an orgasm creeping.

“I said look at me baby, let me see those pretty eyes.” He whispers in your ear while kissing along the side of your face, trying your best to keep your eyes open, you grab his hand trying to slow his fingers down, his strength outmatches yours and he’s hammering away at your soaking cunt. His eyes locked on your every moment like he’s watching his dinner be prepared for him, like he’s a starved man who's getting ready to feast. Your moans getting louder and louder.

“Jongho, Jongho please, please!”

“Look at this pussy baby, look at the way she’s swallowing my fingers.” His thumb applies pressure to your clit causing the orgasm gates to break, arching your back off his chest, you cum with a curdling scream. Orgasm so powerful you are convinced you could power on the fuse box from that scream alone. His fingers come to slower pace, helping you ride out your orgasm. Placing soft kisses amongst your neck, sending you words of praise. Not evening getting a full second to breath he tosses you on your back, his muscular build towering over your body. When the lightning in the room illuminates, it catches a certain piece of jewelry, catching his eye. Letting his index finger run from under your knee down to your ankle, admiring the silver piece of jewelry that hung from it.

“Baby…You wore this just for me?”

He says through a groan, his finger now toying with the silver anklet that spelled out Choi. You wanted him to know you were his, and his only. Gripping one leg in each hand, folding you in half so your ankles hung by each one of his ears. He suddenly slammed his hips into you causing you to arch your back as far as you could, his sudden movements taking you by surprise. His moist lips come down to your ear, nipping at the lobe.

“You want me to wear your pretty legs as accessories? Is that what it is?”

He groans into your ear, your pussy clenches on him, with a mixture of his harsh thrusts and the squelching noises leaving you, you know you are on the brink of another orgasm already. Bringing his hand down to slap your ass, you are trying to ground yourself but the way he’s thrusting in and out of you, you might not make it to see tomorrow.

“Answer me, pretty girl.” He grits out through clenched teeth. You let out a whimper, arching your back so your clothed chest is flushed against his.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I want you to wear me!” You scream out in a breathless tone. Eyes fluttering to the back of your skull. You are positive you can see your brain with how far back your eyes are. Letting that signature smirk take over his features, you hear the slight chuckle he makes. Bending your body further, your knees almost touching the mattress by your ears. The sudden shift in positions has you seeing fireworks. You claw at his arms trying to stutter out any sentence.

“Look at you, all pretty for me. You hear that baby? You hear that pussy making noises for me? Always such a wet cunt for me.

” Pushing both of your legs together so he can hold them in one hand while he brings his other hand to run over your sopping cunt, brushing lightly over your puffy clit sends you right over the edge, the pressure of his fat cock hitting your sweet spot along with his dirty talk pushes you past the tipping point.

“Jongho!!” You scream out, back arching, your nails dig into his arms, leaving angry red lines on his skin, that he will proudly wear around later. Cooing at you he lightly rubs your clit.

“Go on baby, make a mess for me.” He says in awe, he loved to see when you would break for him, it was like affection for him, love prickled at his skin when he’d see you fall apart. Removing his thumb from your clit, he paused his thrusting, letting you catch your breath, your body felt slick with sweat and cum. Your throat felt dry from all the moaning and screaming yet you knew this wasn’t the ending of what was yet to come. Slowly he pulls his cock out of you, causing you to let out a small whine at the loss of him in you. He swiftly brings a hand down, smacking your pussy, taking you completely by surprise, you let out a filthy moan.

He slaps his cum coated cock onto your pussy, the wet smacking sounds making you whimper, his cock head brushes over your clit, causing your body to jerk, you grip the sheets trying to move away from him. He catches you in a firm grip.

“Where do you think you are going baby?” He rasps out causing your eyes to roll back, this was going to be a very long night. Lining himself up with your hole he slowly slides in, you can feel every vein, every inch of his girth dragging along your wet, warm walls. You clench at the stimulation causing his hips to slightly jerk, his other hand coming down to grip your hand, lacing your fingers in his, reminding you in fact that you are his. Bringing your hand to his lips he places kiss on your knuckles. The twinkle in your eye that shined whenever he did such gestures. You felt your heart flood and your pussy get wetter, could you have been blessed with a more perfect man? Letting your hand go he shoves your legs back to your chest. He starts to slowly pick up pace, causing your body to move with each thrust, his hand snakes down into the shirt you never removed, flipping it up so he could see your breast jiggle with each movement. Letting out a groan at the sight, he brings his cool lips down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling on it, before moving to your other nipple and doing the same, salvia coating both of them, leaving hickies in between and on each breast before leaving a trail up to your collarbone, lips attaching to the front of your throat. His hips are swiftly moving in and out of you.

Your juices coating his inner thighs with a mixture of cum and arousal, he sits up grabbing your ankle with the anklet on it, placing kisses along skin that is around the jewelry.

“Look at you, covered in our cum, wearing our last name on your body.” He groans out, hand tightening on your hip, sure to leave bruises that you know you will love to trace your fingers over later.

“You like being Mrs. Choi, pretty girl? You like when people stare and see those marks on you?” He spits out, a moan getting caught in his throat before he continues..

“Because I love it, I love when I see your pretty ass walking into my work place, marks on display. Parading around in those marks that I gave you, letting everyone know you are mine.” His lips attach to your ankle, sucking a bruise right into the skin by your anklet, the sensation causes your legs to buckle, you try closing your legs but you are unsuccessful as his strength outweighs you once again.

“Such a pretty girl, my pretty girl.” He throws his head back chasing his high.

“My. Fucking. Pretty. Wife.” His hips smack hard into you with each punctuation of his sentence. Causing your hands to smack down to grip onto his thigh, his words fueling your next orgasm, tears of pre orgasmic bliss drip out of your eyes.

“Go on baby, let that pretty pussy cum on me baby, cum.” He bites out, placing your leg back down, pistoning his hips in and out of you, trying to make sure you reach your high again before he does. His thumb brushes your jaw before he pushes it down on your tongue. Your whole body jerks, back arching, toes curling, tears flowing, and a muffled scream leaves your mouth, just as you are at your peak your wet cunt clenches down on him throwing him into his own orgasm, he slams into you once more, grip on your hip bruising, as he releases inside of you. Your body slumps against the mattress, he braces himself above you, one arm holding him up, while the other lets go of your hip, rubbing small circles around it. Falling to his side with his cock plugging his cum in you.

The room falls into a peaceful quiet area, the pouring rain still being heard outside. His hand comes to rub soothing circles on your skin. Basking in the warmth of his chest and his presence. Bringing his hand down to run across your wet folds, collecting your mixture of cum on his fingers before bringing them to your lips. You open your mouth and take in the flavor, letting out a satisfied hum. His hips buck into your cunt.

“I hope you don’t think this night is over yet, pretty. We are just getting started.”

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A/N: Lemme tell y’all some…the lack of Jongho fics, Jongho content, all that shit got me ready to fight, bc why some of y’all doing my scrumdilly yum yum man like that? Like how do y’all not look at Jongho and go “I want that man to fold me like a pretzel!” Bc babyyyy I want him to bend me up like a Betty Spaghetty. Business Jongho makes me feral, Jongho in his regular suits make me feral, especially that one clip when he’s got that suit on with the sleeves rolled up and he’s stepping out of the car?!? With the thought of him being possessive to tie it all together?!? I hear some purrring🫣😀. Anywaysssss…hope you all enjoy me and my thirsty Jongho thoughts😚💙.

DO NOT REPOST.

[xanasaurusrex]

plss im so in love w diors clarisse,,, maybe smth with her showing off during capture the flag for r,,,

clarisse showing off during capture the flag clarisse la rue x reader a/n: so this was kinda a drabble kinda a fic idk it's longer than i meant for it to be but i like it so i'm not mad. honestly this y/n is kinda hecate!child coded so you can read it like that but i didn't specify the godly parent so you can imagine her however you want (: taglist: @asvterias @lvrue @thewritingbarbie @kroumi (let me know if you want to be on my taglist or if you want to be removed!)

y/n and clarisse had been dancing around each other romantically for months now.

y/n was a new camper, and had arrived during the winter months, when there were very few campers still there. her mortal parent had died at the same time the monsters started finding her. thankfully, her satyr protector managed to get her to camp in one piece. with a few scratches, yes, but ultimately safe.

during the winter, when there were only a limited amount of people to be around, y/n found herself gravitating towards clarisse la rue, an ares kid.

the other campers had warned y/n away from clarisse, claiming that she was mean and angry and was a hard person to be around. she was dependable in battle, according to them, but other than that, they all tended to steer clear of her.

y/n wasn't finding that that was her experience with clarisse, though.

whenever she was with clarisse, she was gentle and kind and funny, and y/n found herself wanting to be with her at any and all times of the day.

since camp didn't experience weather the same way the outside world did, there were a few times during the winter when the rules were more lax due to the smaller amount of campers, they snuck away from their respective cabins and camped in the woods. it became a thing that was special to the two of them, time for them to just be with each other.

it was those camping trips that y/n started thinking that maybe her relationship with clarisse was a bit more complicated than just a friendship.

unbeknownst to y/n, clarisse had practically fallen in love with y/n the second she laid eyes on her.

the two were inseparable, practically attached at the hip. it was pretty much common knowledge at this point within camp that if you could see one of them, the other was close by.

capture the flag.

one of the most fun days of camp half blood, and also the most serious at the same time.

a day where campers with beef could be on opposite teams and duke out their problems with each other without consequence, but mostly just a day for one team to capture the flag of the other's, and have bragging rights for the next twelve months until the next capture the flag day came around.

clarisse loved playing capture the flag at camp.

it was definitely mostly because she was a daughter of ares, the god of war, and she felt most confident in herself with her magic spear in hand, wearing armor, and stabbing at someone.

a strange way to feel the most confident, but it was.

y/n had never seen clarisse on a capture the flag day, and she was really on board with it.

clarisse looked really good wearing her battle armor, holding her magic spear so carefully, and yet throwing it around with so much confidence.

she could barely takes her eyes off her.

thankfully, y/n and clarisse's cabins had both been placed on the same team (which may or may not be because clarisse had begged chiron for this, but who's to say?), so clarisse was going to be able to work with y/n and not against her.

that would've been awkward....

when clarisse was coming up with the plan for capture the flag last week, mysteriously, the plan started revolving around her and y/n being together at all times.

strange... how things pan out....

when one of her siblings pointed this out, clarisse made sure to fix them with a glare so full of malice they turned away and didn't make any more comments.

as clarisse looked down at her battle plan, she started imagining herself taking down the blue team members with ease, and standing in the background was y/n, swooning over her.

"so, what's our game plan?"

her voice caught clarisse totally off guard, causing her to whip around quickly. clarisse had been shocked out of her mind so suddenly that it took her a few seconds to register what was in front of her.

it was y/n. in battle armor for capture the flag. and she was obsessed with it.

during the winter months, there aren't really any reason for campers to wear their armor, unless obviously there's an attack on the camp, but since there hadn't been any over the winter when she had come to camp, there had been no reason to.

clarisse was sure it had something to do with her father being the god of war, but seeing her wearing camo pants a breastplate, with a sword at her side made her look even more beautiful to clarisse.

"do you... like it?" she asked, a slight teasing lilt to your voice.

clarisse snapped herself out of it, realizing that she had taken a bit more time than she intended to examine y/n's outfit.

"y-yeah, you look... you look amazing, y/n," a small smile passed onto clarisse's face. she mentally cursed herself for stuttering. who even was she? not a person who stuttered, she had thought.

but there was just something about y/n that challenged everything clarisse had thought about herself.

y/n blushed slightly at the compliment, but managed to regain her composure quickly. "thanks," the two shared a small smile. "seriously though, what's our game plan? where am i gonna be?"

clarisse beamed at your interest in the battle plan, and quickly did a run down with her. she mentioned as casually as she could that the two of them would be together the whole time pretty much, with practically no time apart.

the conch sounded, and then everything went into action.

clarisse did her usual hunt of the red team part of the woods, and with y/n at her side, it made her all the more determined to find someone to fight with.

as the two were prowling the woods (or really, clarisse was prowling, and y/n was walking alongside her, admiring the beauty of the woods), y/n stopped suddenly, letting out a loud and dramatic gasp.

clarisse immediately activated her spear and started looking around frantically in search of the danger, and was confused when she found none.

she looked curiously over at where y/n was, and saw her kneeling on the ground in front of a patch of wildflowers, looking at it with childlike wonder in her eyes.

clarisse let out a relieved sigh that everything was okay, and no one from blue team was trying to take y/n as a hostage, but then she became confused.

"what are you doing?" clarisse asked, coming up behind her.

y/n reached forward silently, and quickly plucked one of the white wildflowers from the ground. she stood up facing clarisse, and then stepped towards her. the two were now incredibly close, their noses practically touching, their breaths mingling.

all the air left clarisse's lungs.

with a soft smile on her face, she gently tucked the wildflower behind clarisse's ear.

neither of them knew what to say next. this was such an intimate gesture, such a gentle act that clarisse had never experienced the likes of before. her life had been full of anger and violence, and this moment right here was something new. something... exciting.

this moment was so very y/n, and clarisse loved it.

unfortunately, the moment was broken by the sound of a twig snapping behind them. clarisse rolled her eyes at the blue team members that had undoubtedly thought they were being very sneaky.

clarisse couldn't control the slight smirk that was slowly forming at the thought of showing off her fighting skills in front of y/n, though, so she guessed it wasn't all too bad.

for the cherry on top, clarisse winked at y/n, before spinning around and stabbing the chestplate of one of the blue team members that had attempted to sneak up on the two of them.

the battle was loud and exciting and over quickly, since the two blue team kids were pretty good at sword fighting, but were no match for clarisse and her spear.

once clarisse had defeated them and the kids had surrendered, she turned back to y/n with a smirk on her face.

y/n approached clarisse slowly. she took in her face quietly for any injuries, and gently assessed a small cut she'd sustained from one of the other kids swords before she'd knocked it out of his hand.

y/n's eyes then went to the wildflower still somehow tucked into clarisse's ear. it was askew slightly, so her hand went up to adjust it, making sure it was secure, before her hand landed on clarisse's cheek.

"impressive," was all she said, a large smile on her face.

clarisse smiled widely as well, and couldn't help feeling triumphant.

[biblio-smia]

I’ve never requested before so I’m sorry if I don’t make sense at all lol I’m nervous

But can I make a request for a Peter Parker x Reader? In which they’re classmates at school and he’s always had the biggest crush on reader (I’m talking years, since grade school probably!), and for whatever reason only recently had a burst of courage to ask the reader out? Preferably female!reader, but gn is fine too :)

i am so so honored that this is your first request!! thank you so much for it, this is so cute <3

everything happens for a reason.

to break or to build character, to test a person, to gauge a reaction. there's something expected from each choice made; there's something to learn from everything that happens.

there's been something like pulling in peter's chest for years now, when he really thinks about it. he was hooked from the very first time he saw you, wanting nothing more than to run up and introduce himself. his shy demeanor was in full-swing even back then, at the ripe age of seven; it took being seated together for the year for him to even wave.

peter parker can count the amount of interactions between the two of you on two hands (maybe three, if he includes eye contact made from across classrooms. and if he had three hands.) despite your proximity. your constant proximity. somehow, always at peter's worst.

like, for example, when you had asked peter for a copy of some notes when he had gotten caught in the rain the day before, thoroughly soaking his backpack and smudging the ink on every paper inside.

or the time when your family had moved into one of the houses down the street and you had watched peter's skateboard catch on a stray rock, sending him flying into the pavement and igniting aunt may's hatred for his board.

peter was always so constantly aware of you - which classes you shared, where your seat for the year was, how close your locker was to his.

despite his unwavering acknowledgement of your presence, you were practically a stranger.

sure, the two of you have talked. but the conversation has never really gotten past a "huh?" or a "sorry, i don't" from peter.

every single time, he's spent the rest of his day imagining different words coming out of his mouth, wondering if there was a certain string that would make you something more than acquaintances.

it was a code he couldn't crack.

10 years, six half-conversations, and a few smiles. that's all he's managed to accomplish.

but there's something that draws peter to you. your smile, your laugh overheard in the halls, the glimpses he catches of you leaving in a friend's car when he takes the trash out.

he can't get you out of his mind, especially not when you seem to be around every corner.

peter craves what he knows he can never have. the churn of his stomach and the signals in his brain telling him to run whenever you're around have made sure of that. you've taught peter parker that between fight or flight, he chooses flight.

but when peter wakes up with too much strength and a buzz in his body, something has changed - not just the ability to take out the faucet of his sink with a swipe of his hand.

he doesn't walk with his hood up in the hallways anymore, doesn't hunch to make himself seem smaller. he stands tall, back straightened, the air of something strange that he's never felt before surrounding him. peter thinks it may be confidence.

he hasn't been dosed with enough to go up to your door with flowers and movie tickets but he's at least able to work up the nerve to catch you after class.

there's clear surprise on your face as your eyes flicker to your friends, waiting for you, to peter - he's never been one to strike up a conversation with you.

"hey," peter begins a little breathlessly.

"hi, pete," you start, surprising yourself with the nickname. "peter. hello, peter."

to your relief, peter laughs. it's soft. it suits him. "hi. uh, how are you?"

the question takes you by surprise. you're not sure what you were expecting, but anything peter could've said would've taken you by surprise. you start to wonder if there's supposed to be something wrong. an answer peter is expecting.

"i'm... good!" you're laughing through your words. turns out, peter's wide smile is contagious. "how are you?" you're well aware of the t-minus six minutes you have to get to your next class but your legs don't make any move to walk away from peter.

"yeah, i'm also... good." adrenaline is coursing through peter, just like when he did impossible tricks and jumps in an empty lot. "i was... i wanted to ask you something."

"you already did," you joke.

"oh- yeah, well i mean... other than that," peter laughs. "i was gonna ask... if you wanted to hang out. i mean, not now. you have class. i have class."

"yes, we have class," you laugh. "so some other time."

"some other time," peter repeats.

"here." you tear out a piece of paper from a stray notebook in your bag and a pen, scribbling down your phone number as best you could before handing it to peter. "it's about time you asked, peter."

the warning bell rings and you're off, leaving peter stuck in his spot with a dumb grin on his face.

peter gets to class late but it's not enough to diminish the feeling that he's on top of the world, your words ringing in his ears. it's about time. have you noticed how long he's been on the bench, wishing he could make a move? his mind buzzes, wondering shyly if you've been thinking about him for as long as he's thought about you.

peter's only really brought back down when he accidentally shatters the back of the basketball hoop after taunting flash. who's idea was it to make it out of glass, anyway?

he's dragged by the ear when uncle ben completely embarrasses him in front of you - but at least his punishment is over. well, it'll be over after the suspension ends.

but peter feels like the world has it out for him as he holds his dying uncle in his arms, gunshot wound leaking warm blood onto him. he's crashing now, sobs racking his body as uncle ben goes still.

everything falls apart when the police hand over the sketch of the man suspected to have killed uncle ben and peter realizes it's his fault.

everything happens for a reason.

peter has gained something. but what did he lose?

read part two here! | masterlist

buy me a ko-fi!

[violetasteracademic]

Velaris Memorial Hospital

A Grey's Anatomy x TTPD inspired Three Brothers and Three Sisters Three Part Fanfiction

Hey. Life is horrible and scary. I want to share a teaser for a project I have been pouring my heart and soul into that I hope some of you might find some joy and reprieve in.

These stories are tightly woven together and designed to be read in order. Fesyand, Nessian, and Elriel's journey's will be posted individually and chronologically, and occur on an overlapping but staggered timeline. However, there are incredibly heavy themes and topics that may not be suitable for all readers. I will do my best to ensure each individual story can be enjoyed on its own if there are topics you would rather avoid. Please read the content warning for all three stories and take care of yourself first. This collection is coming soon if I can pull myself out of this black hole, but here is a synopsis of each story ahead!

Part One:

Feyre Archeron is an art therapist for the children's cancer wing at Velaris Memorial Hospital. After leaving her abusive fiancé and moving back in with her sisters, her plans to heal and move on with peace and privacy go up in flames when women begin to come forward with sexual harassment allegations against her ex, Tamlin Thornwood.

If she doesn't come forward with her own story of abuse and testify against the man who harmed her and so many other women, he stands a chance at winning his countersuit for defamation and wrongful termination. Terrified of what her patient's families will think of her if they find out the truth, struggling to forgive herself, and suprised to be falling for the absolute wrong man, Feyre has to dig deeper than she ever has before to find her strength.

Rhysand Noctis is the owner and CEO of Eventide Enterprises. After losing his mother to cancer, he has felt adrift. No amount of money and acclaim has been able to give him the sense of home and belonging he has lost.

When an old family rival, Tamlin Thornwood, is tangled up in a scandal and lawsuits, Rhysand learns that Velaris Memorial Hospital is in trouble. The only non-profit hospital in Velaris and the place that cared for his mother has lost all of their donors and board members. Rhys decides to purchase the hospital and dedicate his time to restoring its reputation and making it a safe place for women and the community of Velaris to work and receive affordable care.

A chance encounter sends Feyre and Rhys colliding towards each other before they realize how inextricably their personal and professional lives are already intertwined.

CW: Domestic violence, sexual assault, sexual harassment, child death, trauma, mental health, explicit sexual content.

*Additional note: I don't typically like to use the term "anti" in this fandom, but it is best to be exceptionally clear that this is an abundantly anti-Tamlin piece. If seeing this character portrayed as a serial abuser makes you feel upset or uncomfortable in any way, please protect yourself (and me) by skipping this one.

Part Two:

Nesta Archeron doesn't need anyone to take care of her. After losing both her parents at age eighteen and becoming legal guardian to her two younger sisters, she gave up her dreams of going to law school and worked her way up from from an assistant with nothing more than a high school diploma and unmatched grit to become the head of public relations at Velaris Memorial Hospital.

When her younger sisters ex-fiancé scandalizes the hospital and leaves them without funding or a board of directors, she has to work closely with the new ownership, Eventide Enterprises, to save the hospital and prevent it from becoming for-profit like SkyView, their rival hospital in the financial district. She has full confidence in herself and her plan. However, Eris Vanserra, the head of PR and legacy staff at SkyView, is out for blood after Nesta won over the youngest Vanserra to Velaris Memorial and got an op ed published on the negative outcomes associated with for-profit care. That, and she now has to answer to Cassian- a man she has already sworn to hate before learning who he was, and is making her job- and life- an absolute pain in the ass.

Cassian is the lead financial strategist and project manager after Eventide Enterprises purchased Velaris Memorial Hospital. After having to drop out of college before sophomore year to deal with the death of his mother, he struggles to overcome the chip on his shoulder being in an industry where name, money, and education is everything. Restoring the reputation and the financial security of Velaris Memorial Hospital is not only personal, but professionally the largest responsibility he has had in his career thus far. Everything is on the line.

Complicating matters is his reliance on Nesta Archeron, the steely and fiery PR director working side by side with him to ensure the Starfall Ball is a massive success and wins back the hospitals donors. There is no denying that the difficulty maintaining their professional lines is fueled by both hate and attraction. But as they continue to work closely together, the layers peel back and they learn that they have more in common than they thought. Family secrets, generational trauma, and their deepest shames are somehow safe in each other's hands. However, lines are crossed that might be impossible to come back from.

CW: Extortion, blackmail, discussions of suicide, trauma, mental health, explicit sexual content.

Part Three:

Elain Archeron has always strived for perfection. After competing in pageants her entire childhood and teen years, she shocked everyone by using her scholarship to relentlessly pursue a career in the medical field as a labor and delivery nurse instead of fulfilling her mothers dream to go on to compete in the Miss Universe pageant.

She spent her early twenties working instead of dating, but her plan to get married and start a family is back on track now that has the "perfect" fiancé, Graysen Nolan.

However- the grueling hours, cracks in her relationship, and anxiety over what her life will look like when she becomes a Nolan begins to sink in. It's not easy for Elain to change her plans or take a leap, but when a tragic accident sends her life into a tailspin, she is forced to pick apart the shattered pieces of her soul and learn what unrealized dreams are truly hers and what belongs to the ghosts of her past.

Azriel Singer is an award winning photojournalist who has spent his life travelling the world. He has lived for the thrill of never knowing what comes next, being on the front lines of danger and history in the making. He is used to going to sleep in one city and waking up with a contract on the other side of the world, not knowing if he'll be headed into a war zone or march for justice.

When his brother Rhysand hires him for a six month corporate contract as the photographer on retainer for Velaris Memorial Hospital as they rebuild their image, his path crosses with Elain Archeron. In so many ways, she is his opposite. She has always wanted to travel, but has never left Velaris. She has always wanted to start a family, a thought that has only ever given Azriel night sweats. And she is engaged.

Azriel and Elain wind up forming a deep friendship, creating bets with each other to help push them outside of their respective comfort zones. The more they get to know each other more deeply than anyone has before, the more they question who they are. No amount of planning and on-paper perfection could have prepared them for a connection that pushes them both beyond the narratives they've written for themselves before meeting someone who can challenge them in all the most terrifying and most fulfilling ways.

CW: Fertility issues, child abuse, infant death, parent death, medical trauma associated with car accidents, birth, and premature birth, explicit sexual content.

This is my first time writing modern AU and contemporary romance. Thank you so much to @nikachansstuff and @rosanna-writer for offering to beta!

I truly hope I do it justice. I also want to reiterate that these are dark and very emotionally heavy stories. The characters will be dealing with issues that are deeply personal to me. They will sometimes be hard to understand and harder to love.

While I am not a mental health professional, I am a huge mental health advocate and that will come through in a blend of my own personal experiences and research, but mental health is extremely personal and not one size fits all. Nothing should be taken as mental health advice. Please reach out for professional help if you need, and don't give up.

This is by far the most terrifying but meaningful work I have done, and I am scared shitless and deeply excited to share it with you. This will not be for everyone, but I hope it will find where it is meant to go.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: What We Did In The Dark {2}*

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Language, 18+ Mature Content, Angst, Time Jump, Flashbacks, Preggo Talk, Pregnancy Trope, First 200ish words are NSFW

Words: 5.2k

Summary: Neither of you planned any of it. You’d met by chance, and everything that happened after had to have been predestined. Now back to your own life, you find you have a special souvenir from your time in Mauritius.

Note: Italic text above the photo insert symbolizes a memory/flashback. The first 200ish words are NSFW so be aware.

As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it!

As you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

Previous:

What We Did In The Dark {1} |

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2: Comes To Light

-Y/N-

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for hours. Hell, I think I’ve wanted it since I first saw you between the flames of that bonfire. Can I?”

The feel of his fingers across your cheekbone sent sparks all through your body making you want him more than you’d ever wanted anyone in over two years. It was wild. Once his body pressed to yours, it responded immediately. The feel and taste of his lips only made the moment better. You’d never been a huge fan of kissing but with him, you never wanted to stop.

“Shit, you’re perfect,” he said.

His hands were impressively soft but still held some roughness that could be credited to hours of gripping a steering wheel. It was an interesting combo that made you shiver though it was over 80 degrees. His thumb glided over your nipple, making it pebble painfully from the need for more. Him rolling the bud of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger was the more you needed until his teeth sank into the sensitive flesh of your neck.

“You look good with this cock down your throat.”

Your mouth felt fuller than ever and the feel of him lodged in your throat should have scared you because of his size but your boldness came through instead. It took everything in you to suppress your gag reflex and it looked like he was trying everything to make you gag because it wasn’t until one slipped that he slowly pulled himself from your mouth. The look in his eyes said it all and ignited a hidden fire within you that you didn’t even know was lying dormant.

“Mmm, ride this tongue, Y/N. Show me how bad you want me.”

You felt wild, as if you’d been barred by chains your entire life with everyone you’d ever encountered, and now—this one night—this one moment you were free and completely unrecognizable. Your hips bucked against his mouth and your only thought was your pleasure and how gorgeous he looked with his lips and nose slick from your juices. You wanted to cum all over his face then kiss him until you lost consciousness.

“Y/N?”

“Y/N!?”

The loudness of your name being called made you jump. Looking around you found four pairs of eyes on you.

“Uh--,” you began before clearing your throat.

“Are you here with us?”

“Of course.”

You sat up straighter then gave them a gentle smile hoping that would smooth things over. You needed to leave them with a good impression of you.

“Okay. So with all of this, I see no reason to not move forward with the series. Since you are on board with incorporating some family-friendly content to draw in families with children I think this will be one of the best moves for not only your brand but the series. Does anyone have anything else to add?”

You glanced at your friend, and personal attorney, Villie, who lifted her notepad to you, showing you a scribbled note.

Are you all right? You majorly zoned out again.

You gave her a subtle nod and wrote your own note back.

Is everything still in my best interest?

Villie nodded and gave you a thumbs up.

“I have a question,” one of the men in suits breached.

You smiled and leaned forward giving him your full attention.

“Your brand thus far has been geared to singles and partyers who want to travel for the fun of it, you know those who are interested in drinking and living carelessly. How confident are you that you could pull off being just as interesting and entertaining to those who aren’t looking for those things and even those with children?”

You nodded, fully understanding his concern.

“Good question. Simply put I am 100% confident I can draw in a more family-friendly audience. I think one of the reasons I have such a following is because of my personality. I find a way to live carelessly doing almost anything. It really is dependent on the experience. I don’t see a reason why it would change because of my audience. We all want to have a good time and it’s possible for everyone to get a slice of what they crave while traveling.”

He nodded and looked amongst his colleagues who also nodded.

“I understand his view. I guess he sees you have no children so he is wondering how that audience will relate to you,” another exec pointed out.

This time it was Villie who spoke up. “If you gentlemen have seen a lot of her streams you can see how Y/N approaches travel. She is practically a big child herself. She easily relates to children including her nieces and nephews and even while traveling children gravitate to her. I don’t think it will be any problem at all for the shift of audience to relate to her.”

The men once again looked at each other speaking with nothing but eyes. You glanced at Villie then gave her a quick fist bump. Ever since high school, she’s had your back, which is why you didn’t think twice about making her your professional and personal attorney.

After a few more minutes of discussion, a consensus had been reached. Once you’d signed the contract and shaken the hands of the three men opposite you the meeting was adjourned, and you were now in a completely different pond. No longer would you be this travel influencer who predominantly posted on the internet you were now a travel influencer who was signed to one of the biggest travel channels on television. You were moving on up.

Your excitement was on 100. After the men left the room you and Villie did your victory dance in your seats and quietly screamed.

“Oh my god! This is a great deal for you, Y/N!”

“Couldn’t have done it without my badass attorney!”

Villie smiled then flashed imaginary hair behind her shoulder.

“I am pretty badass huh?”

“Bet your ass you are! Thank you Villie.”

You hugged each other and then stood. However when you stood an intense wave of dizziness washed across you making you drift backward.

“Woah!”

The next thing you knew Villie was beside you holding you close.

“Are you okay?”

“Wha—what happened?”

“You looked like you were falling.”

“Oh. I—I don’t know what happened. I must have stood up to quickly.”

“Are you all right? you’ve been—off for weeks,” Villie inquired.

You straightened up and pressed your hands down the front of your skirt. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I’m probably just tired. It’s been a lot of work convincing these execs that I could do this show while keeping up with my posting schedule and the work for the travel catalog.”

Villie didn’t look convinced, but she nodded. “Things are only going to get more hectic you need to take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“I know, I know. I will. I promise.”

The two of you walked out of the room and toward the elevator discussing the plans to celebrate this major accomplishment. Once downstairs you and Villie went your separate ways with plans to meet up that night for dinner and drinks with the girls. As you drove through the city on your way downtown, you made a call to your artistic team to get updates about your catalog.

You’d worked your ass off for it, putting in the long hours of planning and the meticulous schedule you’d kept in order to hit every destination and the exhaustive list of hot spots wherever you went. That was just the tip of the iceberg though. This catalog was a multitude of months’ labor of love.

“I knew you’d call me again today,” Zavier said with a hint of tease in his voice.

You scoffed, “Of course, you’re taking lead with the team for the catalog.”

“Boo. Here I thought you just wanted to hear my voice.”

You smirked. While he had a great voice, one that was deep at the right moments, but level and clear every time he spoke, his voice was not the reason for your call. Deciding to tip-toe around Zavier’s usual banter you focused on the real reason for calling.

“How are things?”

“They are about as good as they were the last time you called to check—yesterday.”

You made a last-minute right turn and was met with a barrage of horns. Raising your hand as an apology, you focused on your conversation. “So everything looks right for launch?”

“Y/N, everything is on track. I know what I am doing, I promise. I wouldn’t have you out in these streets looking foul.”

You smiled and sighed. Zavier had been with you from the beginning of this crazy idea to put together this catalog—2 years. He’d been the one to push you toward it the whole year you’d procrastinated with it then was your number 2 cheerleader after Villie the whole last year you’d actually taken it seriously. You knew his work was solid as was his skill. You trusted him, which was something rare for you.

“I know Z, thank you. I’m just--.”

“A bit obsessive and compulsive and a whole lotta stressed? I know. What have I told you about your stress levels? Someone whose whole career is traveling and unwinding shouldn’t be as stressed out as you. Your life is literally one long vacation.”

You rolled your eyes because a lot of people thought that. They thought your life was one big party and good time and while 40% of it was the remaining 60 was anything but. It took a lot of work to be on vacation all the time. However, you never corrected anyone when they brought it up. You didn’t want to sound pretentious or ridiculous.

Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something in response, another wave of dizziness washed over you. This time you found yourself drifting sideways in the car which sent the car gearing to the right into the next lane. Before you knew what happened you’d slammed into something sending your head banging into the steering wheel and turning your vision black.

~~~~~~~

Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep.

The first thing you recognized was the steady beeping tone. You recognized the steady, rhythmic beeping. The second thing you recognized was the sudden rush of pain you felt in your head. Panic filled you and the once steady beeping turned erratic. You darted upward and immediately regretted it. Dropping back to the bed you groaned and held your head.

“Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy.”

“W—what—where am I?”

“You’re at Mount Saini Medical Center.”

More panic filled and you tried to sit up again but hands pushed you back down.

“Calm down. Lie down. You’ve been in an accident and have a mild concussion. You need to remain lying down.”

“Accident?”

Your vision finally steadied allowing you to take in the woman standing over you. Her long black hair fell around her shoulders that were clad in a lollipop printed top.

“I’m Mariah, I’m one of your nurses here.”

“How—how long have I been here?”

“Not too long, 5 hours give or take.”

You looked around and took in the hospital room you were in. The tans, clays and camel colors decorated the space giving it an earthy and Zen vibe.

“Am I--,” you attempted but the tightness in your throat prevented further speech.

“You must be thirsty,” Mariah said before walking a few feet away. When she came back she held a cup for you to take. “Water.”

You took the cup and only meant to take a small sip but instead downed the entire cup.

“Good. Remaining hydrated is important.”

“What happened? Why am I here?”

“When you were brought in the paramedics said you’d rear-ended another car and was found unconcious behind the wheel.”

You squinted your eyes trying to remember. It took several attempts, but bits and pieces came back to you confirming those details.

“Oh my god, is anyone hurt?”

“Just you. The other driver wasn’t in the car, they were parked. They were the ones who found you, got you out of the car, and called the paramedics to bring you here,” Mariah explained.

“Oh my god. I have no idea what—wait—I was dizzy all of a sudden and I must have accidentally—oh my god.”

“Dizziness is normal at this time. Because of your condition, you were immediately admitted and checked out.

You paused rubbing your temples to look at her. “Huh? My condition? What condition?”

The nurse studied you for a moment. “Yeah,” she began taking up your chart that rested in the slot at the foot of the bed. You watched her flip through the pages. “Yeah, it says here that you’re pregnant.”

Suddenly, the ringing in your ears increased until it was the only thing you could hear. Pinching the bridge of your nose you shook your head trying to clear the increasing fog in your brain.

“W—what are you talking about?”

Your voice sounded foreign to you, muffled, and stretched as if in slow motion.

“You’re pregnant. You didn’t know?”

You shook your head again ridding your ears of the ringing but that was about it. your head still felt heavy.

“P-pr—preg—no. You’re wrong.”

“On the contrary. It’s routine with everyone who comes in to run a panel, with women it includes pregnancy. It allows us to treat you better. It was a good thing we tested before running you into a CAT scan. The test was positive and after a consult with OB-GYN, it was confirmed with a Doppler,” Mariah filled in.

Your head was spinning now. She could have been speaking another language entirely because your brain was not connecting the dots.

“I—I’m--.”

“Pregnant. Congratulations.”

Once again your vision went black, and everything slipped away.

~~~~~~~

Your surroundings looked familiar when you opened your eyes. The rich earthy colors gave you a sense of calm but also warmth. To your right the view outside your window was dark and to your left you found Villie dozed off. You groaned as you tried to sit up, your head still pounding.

“Fuck,” you croaked.

The sound of your voice made Villie jolt upward her hair half slayed and half sticking up thanks to her awkward sleeping position.

“Oh my god, Y/N!”

She rushed to your side and took your hand then fired off a series of questions that your brain couldn’t quite understand in its current slightly traumatized state. On the 7th rapid-fire question, you clasped your head.

“Oh for fuck’s sake Valenza my brain is like a cracked egg right now. Slow down.”

She cotched at the edge of your bed then took a breath. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I don’t feel okay at all. my head feels like I was Humpty fucking Dumpty.”

“They told me you got into an accident. Oh my god, babes.”

“I don’t know what happened. One minute I was fine, the next--.”

“You’re not taking care of yourself. I knew this would happen eventually,” Villie said.

She took a deep breath then squeezed your hand. “I’m glad you’re okay. They say they’re keeping you for observation mainly and if all checks out tonight they can release you tomorrow night.”

“It’s just this headache that won’t go away.”

“I got everything Villie.”

You looked across the room and saw Zavier walking inside with his hands full of bags, balloons, flowers, and other items.

“Oh god. Did you call everyone?”

“No. You were on the phone with Z when this happened. He was the one to call me,” Villie explained.

“Are you okay?”

Zavier filled in on your right side and took your hand.

“I’m all right. Little damage done.”

His hazel eyes bored into you scanning every inch of your face. His brows were creased with worry and he looked less rested than he usually looked.

“You look like shit.”

Zavier scoffed. “You’re the one to talk. Your head is wrapped like a pinata.”

You smiled but immediately regretted it.

“I brought all your favorites. I don’t know if you can have caffeine, but I brought your fave latte, and the sweetheart rolls you love from Oishi with plenty of ginger dressing.”

You gave Zavier a small smile not wanting to trigger the pain in your head.

“Thanks Z, that’s sweet of you.

“Oh you’re awake. Good. How are you feeling?”

You squinted toward the new voice, a voice you recognized from earlier. “Uh—pretty much the same.”

“Oh. How does your head feel?”

“Like it’s splitting.”

“Okay. I sent a message to your doctors to see if they can narrow down any pain medicines they can prescribe to help due to your—condition.”

It was then it all came back. Your eyes met the nurse’s and an unspoken understanding passed between the two of you.

“Condition? What condition?”

You looked at Villie then Zavier and closed your eyes. “The concussion.”

“How is she really nurse?”

“She has a mild concussion. She did bang her head pretty good, so we just want to watch that to make sure it doesn’t escalate. Oop, is that caffeine?”

All your eyes roved over to the bedside table where Zavier had placed your latte.

“Yes. A vanilla, cinnamon, caramel latte with nutmeg,” he replied.

“Oh, sorry. No caffeine for now and no sushi if it has raw fish, mercury levels you know.”

Mariah gave you a look but you didn’t quite understand it.

“Don’t worry guys, we will get her some food shortly and take good care of her.”

“Mariah?”

Another nurse dressed in traditional white scrubs entered the room.

“What is it Brooke?”

“Um, there is a man at the desk asking about one of your patients. He says he was told the woman who rear-ended him was admitted and he wanted to speak with her.”

“How did he find that out? Did you--?”

“No. HIPPA, of course not,” Brooke defended.

Mariah sighed then stood. “I’ll be right back.”

“Am I the woman?”

“Don’t worry I won’t let him near you.”

“No it’s okay. I feel horrible. Let him know I’ll cover the damages, and any medical reimbursement he may need. It is my fault after all.”

“I’ll go with you nurse. I’m her attorney. Let’s see what his intentions are showing up here,” Villie said standing and rearranging her dress.

Once the nurse and Villie left you were alone with Zavier, who pulled his chair closer and gave you his best reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, Valenza is a shark. She’ll have this guy reimbursing you after everything is said and done.”

“Yeah, I bet. It’s my fault though. I’ll take responsibility.”

Zavier nodded. “One of the things I love about you is that you’re fair in everything you do. I’ve never known you to try to swindle someone out of something if it’s rightfully owed to them. You’ll even pay vendors who show us around destinations 5% more than their rate just because you know most tourists are assholes and don’t tip or care about their footprint in these people’s native countries. It’s—admirable Y/N.”

“Thanks Z.”

A few moments of silence passed and in those moments your brain tried to piece together everything from the last few hours. However the more you thought the more pain you felt and whenever one word echoed in your head, you had the urge to throw up. so as quickly as you began to think you stopped and went the route you were good at—distraction.

“Did you bring your laptop?”

“Nope.”

“What about your tablet. Come on, I know you don’t leave home without that thing. Show me the--.”

“Nope. There is no way in hell I’ll let you work at a time like this. Rest, Y/N.”

You sighed and pouted which had Zavier laughing.

“You look like a petulant child.”

You stuck your tongue out at him in response, ignoring everything else.

“Y/N.”

Villie’s voice drew your attention to the door where she stood with a very tall light-skinned man.

“Uh--.”

“This is Miles. He wanted to make sure you were all right after the accident,” Villie informed.

You pushed yourself up some more and fixed your gown a little as the man crossed the room.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Oh god, I’m so sorry. I feel terrible,” you began.

“No, it’s fine. I got the details from the paramedics and from what the doctors revealed. You had a medical emergency it wasn’t on purpose. I understand.”

You gave him a soft smile. “Thank you for understanding but I still feel like shit.”

“I was worried when I found you unconscious across the steering wheel. I’m by no means a doctor but I tried the best I could to stop the bleeding.”

“That was you? Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Miles added.

“Look I will pay for the damage done to your car and anything else.”

He scoffed. “You weren’t kidding Ms. Chord. She really is self-sacrificing.”

“To a fault,” Villie teased.

You recognized a glint in her eyes as she spoke to him and made a note to bring it up later. Was she shooting her shot out there to smooth things over or was this real interest? You looked over the man taking in his tall, lanky frame that looked muscular but not obsessively so. The tattoos on his hands hinted that there was more to the picture though he dressed in a mix between street and business casual. He looked just like Villie’s type.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I insist. Please give Ms. Chord your information and we’ll talk once I’m released, or the two of you could work things out,” you wing-womaned.

Miles smiled and looked back to Villie who also smiled while twirling the ends of her hair. Oh, she was feeling him alright. Villie motioned her head to him and the two of them left together.

“Villie would be the only one to find a date from your accident,” Zavier joked.

You couldn’t help but laugh even though seconds later you regretted it.

2 hours later brought the end of visiting hours and it was then you were truly alone. The silence in the room was deafening. So deafening the voices that spoke in the silence all said the same thing.

“What the fuck!?”

You were pregnant. Not suspected pregnant, or possibly pregnant. You were confirmed, definitely pregnant. How in the hell had you missed this? You thought back over the last weeks trying to recall if you had a period. You thought you had but how could you have had one if you were pregnant now. The more that word came to mind the harder you worked trying to ignore the massive elephant in your head, the culprit, the other major factor in this scenario.

“No,” you said shaking your head.

You couldn’t go there. You weren’t ready to go there. You needed answers.

“Okay, so we have some meds for you. After your OB and attending huddled, they came up with something that was safe for you during early pregnancy. They also reviewed some of your bloodwork and found you severely lacking in several vitamins which could explain the increased dizziness you’ve been experiencing. So we are going to hook you up to some iron, and vitamin B12 with a mix of B complex which includes zinc, magnesium, Glutathione, Calcium, some electrolytes, and folate.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Don’t worry it’s only these two bags plus the pain medicine we will give via tablet form,” Mariah explained.

“When can I talk to the OB? I have some questions. I’m just a little confused. I had a period, or I think I did and I—I don’t know how this is possible.”

Mariah nodded. “No doubt, I paged her about an hour ago. She usually makes rounds before she leaves for the night so she should stop in tonight hopefully.”

“Hopefully is definitely. Hi, I’m Dr. Olumici, it’s nice to meet you Y/N.”

A woman of color approached you with a kind smile on her face that instantly reassured you.

“Thank God. Hi.”

She pulled up a chair but before she sat she flipped through your chart and studied the machines. “Your vitals look good, that’s reassuring. How are you feeling?”

“Apart from this headache okay I guess.”

“Good. No abdominal cramping or bleeding?”

“No.”

“Wonderful. While I don’t think anything would be wrong with the fetus I like to be safe there, especially after any car accident.”

“That’s the thing I don’t know how there is a fetus. I had a period, I had 2 actually.”

“When?”

“Last month, and this month.”

“Were they normal for you?”

“Yes. 4 days, lite to normal flow. It was all normal.”

“Hm. Mariah, can you bring me a portable ultrasound please?”

“Right away Dr. Olumici.”

Mariah walked out of the room leaving you with the doctor. She approached and proceeded to examine your abdomen. She felt around applying pressure to different parts then she moved down to your pelvic area. As she did it she didn’t speak but every so often she made an “mm-hm” sound. You didn’t know what to make of it, so you kept quiet and watched her like a hawk.

In a few short minutes Mariah returned with an ultrasound machine that she set up on your left side.

“How many times did we run blood work Mariah?”

“Twice from the same sample. Should we take new samples?”

“Let’s hold off for a moment. Okay, Y/N. We’re going to get some definitive answers right here and now. I can understand how confusing this must be and the need for even just a sliver of certainty I can understand is overwhelming,” Dr. Olumici began.

You nodded finally feeling seen and heard. You fought the tears pricking your eyes and took several deep breaths.

“First let me ask a few preliminary questions. LMP you said you’ve had them for the last two months. Okay. What about sexual activity. When was the last date for that?”

You swallowed and saw his face in your mind’s eye as clear as day.

“Um—this month would be 3 months ago.”

“So—August, okay. None since then?”

“No.”

“Was there protection in August?”

You hesitated because you knew if you said the truth—no, that they would look at you as if you were crazy.

“No judgment zone Y/N. I’m here to help you not judge you,” Dr. Olumici reassured.

“No.”

“Okay. Have you felt any pregnancy symptoms?”

“What are those?”

“Nausea, vomiting, food cravings, breast changes, fatigue, increased urination, backache, dizziness, bloating, maybe cramps, or constipation.”

You thought over the last month or two and noted several instances where you’d felt at least 4 of those symptoms but you’d chalked it up to you working so much and getting less and less sleep. You explained your circumstances to Dr. Olumici who made some notes in your chart as she nodded her head. Once the questions were finished, she sat behind the machine and prepared to get started.

After she explained what was going to happen she squirted the cold gel over your abdomen then moved the Doppler wand across your stomach. You took a few centering breaths then turned your attention to the screen and watched as the image came to life. the black and white images were unrecognizable to you. It was crazy to think you were looking at imagining from inside your womb. Technology was truly fascinating.

The room was completely silent as Dr. Olumici slowly moved the wand over every inch of your abdomen. When she dipped lower getting closer to your pelvic region the image cleared up and then your world came to a complete stop. You didn’t know what you were looking at, but you knew you were looking at something.

“Okay. Here we are. Mariah please the volume.”

Mariah tapped a button on the dashboard a few times then the room filled with quick rhythmic pounding that sounded like a heartbeat. When you realized what you were listening to, you gasped.

“This is your baby, Y/N.”

“Holy Shit!”

You’d said it louder than you’d intended and now your voice was echoing off the walls.

“Calm down. It’s okay. I’ve gone through this first moment with a lot of women. Take a few breaths. Mariah, some water please.”

Mariah poured some water from a dusty rose-colored plastic pitcher into a matching cup then handed it to you. You drank it all down as your eyes remained on the screen at the little blip that was front and center. Once the cup was empty you tried to keep your breathing steady.

“So—I’m—I’m really--,” you paused closed your eyes, and released a slow breath. “I’m pregnant.”

“Yes. You’re pregnant and looking at the fetus, I’d say you’re—currently in your third month, nearing the end of your first trimester.”

“What!”

“Interesting. You don’t look to be showing at all. There is a percentage of women who do not have symptoms or growth which hinders them from ever knowing they are pregnant. We call them cryptic pregnancies. Most women who experience them usually go their entire pregnancy never knowing because they don’t have symptoms, they continue their cycles, and they never show. It could be the same for you. Time will tell.”

Suddenly the image on the screen split in two and you sat up.

“What just happened?”

Dr. Olumici leaned closer to the machine then moved the wand lower over your pelvis and pressed for firmly.

“Huh, would you look at that.”

She tapped a few buttons then moved the wand again and repeated the series of movements 3 or 4 times.

“Someone please talk to me.”

“Yes, I’m sorry Y/N. I was so focused on making sure I didn’t miss anything or anyone. So it looks like we’re dealing with a twin pregnancy. This little one was hiding behind their sibling.”

“Twins?!”

“Twins. I want to say that they are in separate amniotic sacs which indicates fraternal twins, but I have seen identical twins in separate sacs. Depending on what you decide to do we’ll do a thorough check at your first official prenatal appointment.”

All this information was really taking its toll. You’d begun this discussion with very little pain in your head but as things progressed the pain intensified. Right now you felt as if you were having one of the worst migraines you’d ever had in your life. It was all too much, way too much at once. You’d just signed a deal for your own travel show which would mean more travel, long hours, and plenty of work, you were also doing a swimsuit and vacation wear line and a travel catalog and now not only were you currently pregnant but you were also having not one but 2 babies and all of this from 1 one-night stand where you allowed yourself to be the freest you’d ever been—the happiest you’d been.

“Fuck my life!”

This was the consequence of letting yourself live without inhibitions. This was the consequence of forming connections. This was the consequence of being carefree, the consequence of carelessness.

The consequences of what you did in the dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[femininenachos]

Hello lovely. I’ve been thinking about vacation au. Please tell me Clarke runs into Lexa swimming in some crystal clear Grecian water and wells has to close her mouth for her.

(Not quite, but close!)

Previously: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

By mid-morning the narrow streets near the harbour are already swarming with island hoppers fresh off the ferry. More line the quayside, waiting to board the day cruise that takes in the larger, more populous archipelago further down the coast. So-called ‘jewels of the Aegean’, they’re feted for being playgrounds of the rich and famous, boasting a slew of luxury resort hotels, designer boutiques and staggeringly expensive seafront restaurants.

For all its charm and scenic vistas, at least Polis has one foot in the real world. Here, craggy-faced fishermen and dock hands in scruffy overalls are hard at work unloading the morning’s catch, doing their best to ignore the clusters of tourists floating around, or at least tolerating their presence with stoic indifference.

And—it’s possible Clarke might be biased—Polis has Lexa, currently leading the charge like a woman on a mission. Clarke sticks close, her hand in Lexa’s sure grip, hurrying to match her loping strides as they make a beeline for the marina. Along the way they pass an assortment of small motorboats in all shapes and sizes, from dinghies and jet skis to skiffs and cabin cruisers and everything in between, until a gleaming white single-masted sailboat comes into view at last. 

Clarke stops dead in her tracks on the cobblestones, fingers slipping from Lexa’s.

Her jaw drops.

“Is this yours?”

Lexa glances over and laughs at Clarke’s expression. “I make good tips, but not that much.”

She points to the modest vessel moored next to it, an open-top vintage deck boat with a walnut veneer interior and burnt orange leather upholstery that’s bleached from exposure to the sun and the salty sea air. ‘Spirit of Polis’ is written in blue cursive script on the hull.

“I mean, this one’s great too,” Clarke is quick to respond. She styles it out. “Not so flashy. Compact. Classic. Nice, uh, sleek lines.”

Lexa peers over the top of her sunglasses, lips subtly twisting to the side. “It belongs to my uncle, so you don’t have to worry about offending me or the boat.”

She puts down the cooler containing their provisions of cold drinks and extends a hand to help Clarke aboard. A little unsteady on her feet at first, Clarke holds on tightly for support while she finds her balance, shifting her weight to counteract the bobbing motion of the boat as water sloshes against the sides. Once she’s confident she isn’t going to fall flat on her face or, worse, into the harbour, she takes a few cautious steps to reach the small seating area at the rear. She shrugs off her tote bag to stow under the bench and situates herself, the sun-scorched leather burning hot against the backs of her thighs.

From this safe perch (and prime ogling spot), she watches Lexa collect the thick rope that tethers the boat, tossing it onto the deck before she gracefully hops across with the cooler and gets behind the controls. Full of poise at the helm, like it’s second nature to assume command, the signature pout in place as Lexa lifts her chin like she’s surveying her nautical domain. 

It goes without saying that the whole preppy, boat-captain vibe is one hundred percent working in her favour.

Shades on. Hair spilling down her back in glossy chestnut waves, the ends getting whipped around by the wind. Appealing in her pale pink button-down worn over a snug white tank. Shirt open and catching the light breeze, the sleeves rolled up to reveal a hint of muscle definition and the ink that encircles her bicep. Tight little navy blue shorts hug her hips and ass in ways that are about to cause a major international incident at sea, because Clarke is far from looking respectfully.

“Ready?”

When her eyes snap up, she spies the half-smile on Lexa’s side profile, as though she detects the unholy thirst emanating from mere feet away.

Clarke gives a slow, absentminded nod, the tip of her tongue poking out the side of her mouth as her eyes make another involuntary sweep down Lexa’s form.

“Clarke.”

She gets a hold of herself, breathing in deeply, and with it the spell is broken.

“Mm? Oh, yeah,” she says, feeling a resurgent wiggle of anticipation about this mystery adventure they’re about to embark on together. All Lexa was willing to divulge when they met is that it’s Polis’s best-kept secret, a spot known only to locals, unreachable except by boat, and so far unspoiled by tourists. Clarke had feigned offense on the last point, but soon dropped the act when Lexa tilted in for a kiss that went on and on and made her stomach clench. Each time Clarke started to retreat, Lexa would chase her mouth and draw her back in for more. 

Her lips are still tingling.

(Both sets.)

“At least give me a hint about where we’re going?”

The enigmatic smirk that plays around Lexa’s mouth widens a fraction. “I thought you liked surprises.”

“Oh, I do. But I’m also stubborn as hell and won’t take no for an answer, so jot that down.”

It earns a laugh, one Clarke is fast becoming enamoured with, and she can’t control the warm tingle that goes through her when she hears it or the rush of elation she gets from bringing a rare grin to Lexa’s face. 

“Good to know,” Lexa says as she reaches for the ignition key. Her next words are almost lost to the splutter and chug of the engine before it roars to life. “I like a challenge.”

~*~

Within an hour, they reach a small, secluded cove surrounded by sheer limestone cliffs, the ancient rock sculpted by wind and waves, where sparse scatterings of tall, rugged pines sprout precariously from narrow ledges in defiance of the elements.

It appears like a mirage, shimmering into view: a bay of dreamy, pristine, white-gold sands and crystal clear turquoise waters, serene and inviting, and there isn’t a soul in sight. The closest thing they had to company was the pod of dolphins they spotted off the starboard (Clarke learned) side about twenty minutes ago. She’d gasped and clutched Lexa’s arm, bouncing on her heels in sheer delight. But it was the look they shared, brimming with joy and something unaccountably softer and fonder, that made it all the more magical, the moment already locked into Clarke’s memory.

“What do you think?” Lexa asks.

Lost for words, Clarke shakes her head in silent awe.

She turns to Lexa, and the smile Lexa directs at her, eyes bright and glowing in the sunlight, leaves her just as speechless. When Clarke finds her voice at last, it comes out thick, clogged with emotion; touched and amazed by the incredible beauty of what she sees—the place, and the woman who brought her here. So moved that she’s dangerously close to shedding a tear, her vision glazing over. 

She blinks the moisture away.

“It’s…” She draws in a breath and lets it out slowly. Lifts her eyebrows. “Wow.”

She doesn’t second guess the impulse to wrap an arm around Lexa’s waist, to plant a soft, grateful kiss on her jaw.

“Thank you for sharing it with me.” 

Full lips twitch at the corners. “My pleasure.”

With one hand resting on the wheel, Lexa drapes her free arm around Clarke’s shoulders. They remain like that, Clarke hugging Lexa’s side and taking in the spectacular scenery as Lexa guides the boat in at a steady rate of knots.

“I can’t believe this place has stayed under the radar. You’d think tour operators would be running excursions out here every hour until sunset.”

“Clarke.” Lexa grows serious all of a sudden, and that only makes Clarke want to kiss her again. Coax another smile. “You must promise not to tell anyone. It’s how we preserve it for future generations.”

Clarke schools her features, pretending to match Lexa’s gravity.

“Well… it’ll cost you. My silence doesn’t come cheap.”

The slight frown Lexa wears smooths out as soon as she catches on. A quizzical eyebrow flexes in a way that’s rudely attractive.

“Name your price, but don’t forget I work in hospitality.”

“I’m not interested in your money, Lexa. What I want” - Clarke trails her hand over Lexa’s hip and the perfect curve of her backside to give it a slow, purposeful squeeze, relishing Lexa’s intake of breath and the darkening of her gaze as she glances at Clarke’s lips - “is you.”

She meant to say “your body” but she doesn’t correct the verbal slip. Because, yeah, she does want to bend Lexa into all kinds of shapes like a pretzel, but she also has a deep desire to learn more about Lexa as a person, to find out what makes her tick, beyond what she likes to do in bed.

Lexa takes it in stride regardless, easing back into the confidence she has in spades.

Something about the slope of her smile signals she’s about to gain the upper hand. 

She shrugs.

“Okay, deal.”

The enduring gleam in Lexa’s eyes before she turns her attention back to the sea gives Clarke palpitations. Her pulse thunders in her ears, drowning out the engine noise and the crash of the boat breaking the waves. 

~*~

They drop anchor a short distance from the shore, an easy swim from the dazzling white sands. Not yet ready to take a dip, preferring to bake in the heat for a while first, Clarke spreads a large beach towel on the deck for sunbathing. She senses Lexa’s attention on her as she shimmies out of her shorts and shucks her loose tee to reveal the red halter neck two-piece that Octavia helped pick out after breakfast. 

(“Hellooo, mama,” Octavia had drawled after Clarke emerged from the en suite and gave a reluctant twirl. She’d let out a low whistle as she ran her eyes up and down. “Almost wish I was tagging along just to watch Sexy Lexy’s head spin 360-degrees before it explodes. The twins ain’t playing.”)

At the time, Clarke had rolled her eyes and fought a blush but she’s glad she went with O’s suggestion.

Aware of her present captive audience, she proceeds to get comfortable on her back. One knee bent, an arm tucked behind her head as a pillow, showing off her best assets like a 1950s calendar pinup girl. Even behind the dark tinted lenses of her sunglasses, she sees Lexa’s eyes hungrily trace the shape of her body. Clarke basks in it, a smile tucked into the corner of her mouth, secure in the knowledge that she’s not just a snack, she’s the whole damn meal, and Lexa looks like she wants to devour every last crumb.

But Clarke’s smugness is short-lived, because in the next moment she’s the one left gawking when Lexa wordlessly strips down to the skimpiest pair of bikini bottoms and not a stitch else, brow quirking up as she peers over her shoulder then dives off the deck, slicing through the water with barely a splash.

Clarke quickly levers up onto her elbows to watch Lexa surface seconds later, hair slicked back and plastered to her skull, a sly little tilt to her lips as she treads water.

“Come on in. The temperature is perfect,” she calls out, looking every inch the siren that lures thirsty sapphic sailors to their deaths. 

Clarke tries to cling on to the last vestiges of composure she has remaining.

“Gonna work on my tan for a little bit.”

The pout returns and she laughs, “Soon!”

Grabbing the tube of sunscreen from her nearby tote, she squeezes a large dollop into her palm. While Lexa does slow laps around the boat, Clarke liberally reapplies the lotion, slathering it on until all the exposed skin within reach is covered.

Before long, she hears Lexa climb the ladder onto the swim platform, accompanied by the rush of water cascading off her body as she rises out of the sea.

The soft slap of wet footfalls draws nearer.

“Lex?” Clarke twists around. “Could you do my—”

She stalls mid-sentence, only cognizant of her fingers closing hard around the tube in her hand when a spurt of lotion shoots out, splattering across her thigh and the towel. 

She doesn’t even flinch.

All Clarke can do is gape and stare, watching rivulets of water run down the slope of Lexa’s bare chest. Eyes drawn inexorably to taut nipples and golden skin that glistens under the sun, to the long, lean lines of Lexa and the scrap of luminous orange fabric that sits low on her hips.

Clarke’s belly tightens, arousal flaring hot between her legs.

(A voice in her head that sounds disturbingly like Wells tells her to close her mouth.)

She has to remind herself to breathe. 

Is thankful for the oversized shades that partially mask her expression, because she isn’t in control of what her face is doing right now. But if Lexa’s lip-bitten smile is any indication, it’s a lost cause anyway.

Casually wringing the water out of her hair as she approaches, Lexa glances at the milky white streak on Clarke’s inner thigh. 

“Not the first time I’ve made a girl squirt.”

Clarke mutters a sarcastic “ha ha”, rubs the lotion into her skin, then wipes her hands on the edge of the towel before she reclines again. She fakes nonchalance when Lexa sinks down beside her, but it’s impossible to ignore the butterflies.

She rolls her shoulders and stares at the sky above, fixating on the solitary vapour trail that cuts across the endless blue.

“Speaking of previous liaisons... do you bring all your conquests here?” She’s mostly kidding, but there’s an undercurrent of needing to know too. She peers at Lexa. “Or am I one of the lucky few?”

A slow shake of Lexa’s head before she leans over on her elbow, closing in and partially blocking the sun, and Clarke’s skepticism must be plain to see, because Lexa looks so intensely sincere now, no trace of a smile or any disingenuousness when she says: “It’s the truth, I swear.”

Still, Clarke has her doubts. There’s no way Lexa isn’t tripping over hot women throwing themselves at her feet and this boat trip is too well-orchestrated not to be a tried and tested seduction technique. 

Clarke peels off her shades to look Lexa square in the eye, and that frank, steady gaze pierces straight through her.

“I mean it, Clarke.” 

The space between them shrinks. 

Lexa’s pupils dilate as her focus shifts to parted lips. “You’re special.”

Water drips off the ends of Lexa’s hair onto Clarke’s shoulder and chest, and whatever rebuttal she had dies in her throat. She’s the one to reach out, gripping Lexa by the neck to tug her the rest of the way and kiss her like Clarke’s been dreaming of all morning.

As soon as Lexa throws a long leg over Clarke to straddle her, knees bracketing her hips, she needs no further convincing.

It’s on. 

She dips her tongue inside Lexa’s mouth and slides both hands up Lexa’s rib cage to cup her breasts, a shiver running through Clarke when she feels the hard poke of nipples against her palms. She kneads, and the low, throaty noise it earns her sets her nerves alight, warm tingles suffusing her body.

They kiss deeply, greedily.

They kiss until Clarke has to drag her mouth away to gulp down some air, only to have the oxygen punched out of her lungs once again when Lexa uses the opportunity to shove her bikini bottoms off, scoop her mane of wet hair to one side and resettle against Clarke’s thigh. With her hands planted on either side of Clarke’s shoulders, Lexa holds herself up as she starts to work along the tensed muscle.

The slick, molten feel of Lexa, sliding against her skin, riding Clarke, makes her burn. She lurches up into the next kiss, hungrily reclaiming Lexa’s mouth, urging her on with a grip on her ass, and that shaky little hitch of breath in the back of Lexa’s throat whenever the friction gets her just right succeeds in getting Clarke wetter and wetter too. At this rate, she might come before Lexa does, and the odds only increase when Lexa takes Clarke’s hand and guides it between her legs. 

“Use your fingers.”

Another surge of heat floods through Clarke at the instruction, hearing the normally smooth, modulated tone of Lexa’s voice roughed by need.

Clarke studies Lexa’s face, watching for the tiny flickers of reaction as she runs her fingers lower, fascinated by each and every twitch and jolt and slight gasp as she explores. She dips in and drags the wetness up to swirl around Lexa’s clit and is rewarded by the sharp jerk of Lexa’s hips and quite possibly the dirtiest kiss of Clarke’s entire life. She needs no prompting to slide through slick heat to tease at Lexa’s entrance again, fingertips doing a couple of slow swirls before she pauses. 

For a beat they remain suspended in a freeze frame of anticipation. Each holding still, a breath caught in their throats. 

On the exhale Clarke pushes inside.

And fuck, she missed this. Touching yourself is great and all, empowering, fantastic for stress relief, et cetera. But nothing beats the sound another woman makes when you enter her for the first time, when you hear that shaky intake of breath and you feel her clench around your fingers.

“Good?” Clarke asks. 

Lexa nods, bottom lip held between her teeth as she looks down at Clarke with hooded eyes, the green of her irises nearly eclipsed by black.

Part of Clarke can’t quite believe this is her reality. That she’s buried to the knuckles and Lexa is moving on her, rolling to meet the steady pump of her wrist. 

She glances between their bodies and a groan escapes, another sharp twist of lust coiling in the pit of her stomach once her eyes fasten on her own two fingers coated with Lexa’s arousal, fucking into her. But Clarke pries her eyes away, roving over tight abdominals, taking in the curves of Lexa’s tits and the jut of her nipples, torn between wanting them in her mouth and watching her fingers disappear inside again.

It’s Lexa’s half-stifled whimper when Clarke’s thumb finds her clit that sharpens her focus. 

Winding her arm around Lexa’s lower back, Clarke sits them upright and swiftly brings their lips together. The abrupt change of angle has Lexa gasping hotly into her mouth. Again, louder, when Clarke’s palm rubs in. Lexa grips her by the shoulder and the back of her neck, blunt nails digging in as Lexa grinds down harder, faster, speeding towards the climax—the first of many, if Clarke has her way—sucking in short, sharp gasps while Clarke keeps pace, despite it being hell on her wrist.

They’re hardly kissing at all now, mouths hanging slack and sharing the same air, noses pressing into cheeks as they pant against one another’s lips.

She soon feels the first flutters, the growing tension in Lexa’s form, the choppy motion of Lexa’s hips and the careless scratch of her nails at Clarke’s nape. She curls the tips of her fingers on each partial drag out then slams back in, lifting Lexa an inch off her lap with each thrust. Clarke keeps the heel of her palm tight against Lexa’s clit, the pressure firm and constant, and in the next collection of halting, rapid breaths, Lexa’s whole frame pulls taut. A ragged cry is torn from her throat and she clenches hard, coming in a hot spill around Clarke’s fingers. Lexa shudders through it, a tremble in her jaw when she catches Clarke’s mouth in a fierce, bruising kiss, licking into her with a groan that makes Clarke gush in turn.

They remain in a heavy lip lock long after the tremors subside, neither inclined to separate. Restless hands weave through Clarke’s hair then seek out her curves, roaming down her chest with purpose, pushing under the top half of her swimsuit. She gives a low hum of approval when Lexa’s thumbs roll over the tight tips of her nipples, the ache mirrored in the dull, pulsing emptiness between her legs.

She feels close to orgasm already, like if she got even the tiniest bit of friction she’d go off like a rocket. Just a small shift of her hand to grind against her own knuckles would do it. But the way Lexa is touching her breasts, palms running all over, teasing her nipples into stiff, hypersensitive points, might be enough to get Clarke there.

And all the while, she’s still inside Lexa. Fucking her lazily with slow presses of her fingers, incapable of much more vigour when her wrist is screaming. She’s debating what to do next, whether to withdraw and flip Lexa onto her back for round two or continue like this, when a distant droning noise intrudes, faintly audible above the gentle lap of water, the thick, wet squelch of Clarke’s hand working between Lexa’s thighs, and their combined heavy breathing.

Growing more distracted by the second, Clarke draws her mouth away. She squints at the horizon beneath the shade of her free hand while warm lips meander along her jaw and down her neck.

She ceases her movements, despite Lexa’s meaningful buck of her hips and the subsequent small growl of complaint when Clarke fails to take the hint.

“What’s—” Teeth nip at the fading hickey on her throat and she gasps, hand flying to tangle in Lexa’s damp, curling hair. But as the object begins to resolve itself, Clarke tenses for a different reason. “Is that a boat?”

Lexa abandons her sulk to look too.

A white shape is rapidly approaching, throwing up sea spray, sunlight glinting off the surface and the waves and making it difficult to discern from this distance until… oh. Oh, yeah.

Letting out a string of (presumably) expletives in her native tongue, Lexa scrambles off Clarke to scoop up the clothes strewn across the deck. She pulls on her tank top, yanks the shorts up her legs, and has just enough time to arrange herself into a casual pose beside Clarke before the other boat reaches them. The occupants are obnoxiously young; late teens or early twenties, as far as Clarke can tell from a distance; a bunch of bikini-clad girls and lanky guys in board shorts hanging off one another as music blasts.

She sighs inwardly. Grits her teeth and refrains from giving them the middle finger while they whoop and cheer in passing, beer bottles held aloft as they thunder towards the wooden jetty.

So much for the sexy beach idyll. Clearly, not everyone has such reverence for the tranquility of this spot.

“Shall we stay a while or…?” Clarke hedges. 

Lexa purses her lips and casts her stormy gaze around, jaw working side to side in rotation, but a gentle touch on her leg pulls her focus back to Clarke. 

Consternation softens into regret.

“You didn’t even get a chance to swim or feel the sand between your toes.”

“I’ll cope. Besides…” Clarke wets her lips and drops into a huskier register. “It wasn’t a total bust.”

Lexa’s mouth twitches, clearly fighting a smile, and to Clarke that’s a win.

“Come on, don’t let these pesky teens ruin our hot date,” she continues in a playful tone. “I bet you have a few aces up your sleeve; other favourite haunts to wow the ladies with.”

One shoulder lifts in a slight shrug. “We do have the boat for the rest of the day. I could take you somewhere else. For lunch, if you’re hungry yet?”

Clarke gives a noncommittal hum, lightly trailing her wet fingers along the soft skin of Lexa’s inner thigh. “I could eat.”

The suggestive undertone isn’t lost in translation. Their eyes meet and Clarke dares to make it explicit.

“But lunch wasn’t what I had in mind… unless we’re counting pussy as a food group.”

Lexa loses the battle against keeping her smile under control. The tips of her ears are tinged pink. “Are Americans always so forward?”

“Um, I don’t recall any shyness on your part two nights ago.”

Dainty little ears burn brightly while Lexa’s smile grows, becoming toothier, and Clarke just wants to smooch that perfect face all day long.

“Anyway, I prefer the term ‘go-getter.’ As in, I see someone I want and I go get her.”

A pained groan. “I should leave you stranded on the beach for that.”

“Hey!” Clarke swats at Lexa’s knee in retaliation, but Lexa catches her hand, holding it captive. Clarke sniffs for dramatic effect. “I was going to let you strip me out of this bathing suit later, but now I’m strongly reconsidering.”

“If it helps sway your decision, I’d definitely appreciate seeing you naked again.”

“And how would you show your gratitude?”

“Mm. At least three times, and maybe twice more with the strap if you’re into toys.”

God.

“Okay. Alright. Well, lucky for you, I’m kind of dying for you to fuck me so I guess that clinches it.”

It’s about as far from playing it cool as could be, but Clarke doesn’t care. The truth is she’s soaked, aching for relief, and she isn’t picky about whichever method Lexa might use to get her off, as long as it happens soon.

Eyes flashing dark, Lexa cups a hand behind Clarke’s neck and pulls her mouth to hers. Clarke reacts without thought, already opening up to accept the slide of Lexa’s tongue before her brain catches up and she remembers they’re not alone.

Cracking an eye open, she’s relieved to see nobody on the other boat appears to be paying them any attention. She attempts to evade the next kiss, only for Lexa to pursue it more doggedly, and that makes Clarke smile even as she lays a palm on Lexa’s chest to gently hold off her advance. The mini pout on Lexa’s face when they pull apart is a treat, and Clarke can’t conceal her enjoyment of it. Unable to resist the lure, she steals one final peck. 

For a few indulgent seconds, she luxuriates in the softness of Lexa’s full bottom lip, until it dawns on her that an hour-long return journey stands between them and more orgasms, and she sighs. 

“Why isn’t teleportation a real thing yet? Having to wait a full 60 minutes to get you under me is so unfair.”

Slowly, with the greatest delicacy and patience, Lexa brushes their noses together, one side then the other, nudging the tip before she withdraws. Despite the sun beating down on her back, it gives Clarke chills, shivers running down her neck and arms. For the duration she just holds still and melts while her stomach flips, and the butterflies that had lain dormant return in full force. 

When she opens her eyes, she’s greeted by the slight, sloping smile on Lexa’s lips and her stomach does another somersault.

“I’m starting to think you’re only interested in me for sex,” Lexa says lightly.

Clarke lets out a small scoff. “You’re the one with a one-track mind. I was minding my own business, soaking up the rays, until you pounced.”

“Can you blame me?” 

Lexa’s heated stare roves over several inches of cleavage before she forcibly drags her eyes back up. 

“Actually… I have a confession to make.” She draws that plush bottom lip, still slightly swollen and red from kissing, between her teeth. “I dropped a tray of drinks at work yesterday because I had a flashback to you sitting on my face. Anya yelled at me and I didn’t even give a fuck that she deducted it from my tips.”

Heat rises in Clarke’s cheeks, triggered by her own vivid recollection of events. She won’t forget it in a hurry and she’s flattered to hear it was just as memorable for Lexa too. But also, it feels like a point of pride that she made Lexa’s cool girl veneer slip, even if she wasn’t there to witness it in person.  

“Now I feel partly responsible for this tragic loss of earnings and broken glassware.”

“I said you were trouble.”

They inch closer, eyes glued to lips, their breath hot on one another’s faces.

“How can I make it up to you?” Clarke asks.

“I have some ideas.”

Her mind can’t help going to the aforementioned strap.

All smiles, they surrender to the magnetic pull. The world around them recedes. There’s only Lexa’s mouth on hers, soft yet urgent, and the tingles that erupt all over, Clarke’s pulse accelerating when long fingers thread into her hair again.

And it’s sublime. 

Close to perfection.

She can almost hear the swell of imaginary violins soundtracking the moment—until a smattering of shrill wolf whistles pierces through the bliss. 

The kiss breaks on a huff of shared, quiet laughter. Clarke’s eyes slide across to the jetty, where they’re being enthusiastically toasted by their neighbours. She groans and drops her forehead to Lexa’s shoulder, breathing in the saltwater, sun-warmed scent of her before showing her face again.

“I believe that’s our cue to leave,” Clarke says.

The long, lidded look Lexa favours her with, eyes shaded darker by desire and the hint of some deeper emotion that feels altogether too big, too soon to acknowledge, has Clarke battling the urge to launch herself at Lexa’s lips again, regardless of the unwanted spectators nearby.

“Keep that up, Lex, and they might really have something to holler about—and possibly livestream on the internet.”

A faint smile reappears. “What am I doing, Clarke?”

“Looking. Giving me those” - she gestures vaguely - “eyes.”

It loosens a small laugh. Lexa lowers her gaze and Clarke regrets mentioning it now, because it feels like the sun momentarily disappearing behind the clouds when Lexa’s thrilling, singular focus isn’t on her.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” 

Lexa looks up, and the restored eye contact makes Clarke’s blood pump faster.

She lets out the breath she was holding. “Maybe I like it more than I should, considering.”

“Considering…?”

“I won’t be here next week.”

Pragmatic; matter-of-fact. A reality check and a casual reminder they both need to hear before they throw themselves headlong into… whatever this thing is between them: it has an expiration date.

In the lull, Lexa scans every millimetre of Clarke’s face and she hopes the nerves don’t show through the front she’s putting on.

After a moment, the corner of Lexa’s mouth lifts into a smirk, but it seems slightly forced. Her eyes are more pebbly, neutral grey than green. “Then let’s make sure you have good memories to take home with you.”

[cherubofthenight]

Manifesting my Dream Self 🍦🍓

i had to post this cuz i culdnt find it when i posted it privately yikes

if someone does read this, note that i do acknowledge 'her' as me and this is just to make it more fun :)

1) characterization

Determining her physical, mental and emotional traits. Her goals, her values, her morals. What is she like? How would you want people to describe her? Does she have a good relationship with her family? Does she have a s/o? Things like that.

2) bring her to life

Do as she would do. Dress as she would dress (if possible). Act as she would act. Stick by everything I decided for her. Positive self talk- which will be manual until I grasp it and it becomes automatically. Even if I slip. It’s okay, after all I’m human - I make mistakes.

3) staying on track

Keep a log of this by journalling. Create playlists that align with me. Pinterest boards that align as well and all of my social media will align with me (following blogs that align with me and my goals, subscribing to YouTubers who encourage what I'm looking for etc) so I’m surrounded by this energy.

Yuh, getting into it!

When I picture her, I see what I decided about her, thus that’s what I see when I picture myself.

So what I decided about her.

She has pretty, big doe eyes with perfect 20/20 vision, and long, full, cartoon-like lashes. Her lips are soft, plush, and two-toned, and her dark brown 4a/4b hair is healthy, thick, and long. She’s got the cutest button nose that makes you want to boop it, and her eyebrows? Absolutely perfect. Her face is beautifully balanced, with clear, glassy, dewy skin that’s soft and smooth. She’s got small hands and feet, and a pear-shaped body with curves in all the right places. And aside from her scalp, lashes, and brows, she’s completely hairless—taking care of herself is her priority.

People often compare her to a doll, but she’s known for her sweet yet take-no-shit attitude. She’s an absolute sweetheart and a treasure, and luckily, she knows it. There’s no one quite like her, and she only deserves the best. Anyone who gets to be in her presence is lucky, and she knows she’s her own muse. Despite the confidence she exudes, she’s always working on bettering herself, knowing growth is part of life. She values authenticity and surrounds herself with people who appreciate her strength and softer side.

She’s independent, self-assured, and deeply compassionate, striking the perfect balance between confidence and kindness. Her sweetness is just who she is—it’s not something she tries to perform. She’s all about meaningful connections and is always there for the people she loves. She moves through the world with a gentle grace, and her kindness reflects how much she loves herself. She never seeks validation because she already knows her worth. She’s happiest in her own peace, and her warmth radiates wherever she goes. She loves her own company and is her own greatest inspiration.

She recently moved into her own apartment, where everything reflects her style—immaculate and organized. She drives a matte black Audi RS, a white Honda CRV, and a pink Mazda Miata. Her closet is filled with the finest pieces, blending simplicity and elegance, so she’s always effortlessly chic. And of course, accessories are a girl’s best friend (besides herself, obviously). She’s committed to her well-being, practicing yoga or Pilates daily for balance and serenity. When she wants to push herself, she turns to calisthenics. She loves cooking healthy meals and experimenting with recipes to nourish her body and mind.

She’s got a boyfriend who’s intelligent, attentive, and hilarious. He has an incredible job with flexible hours, and he’s got two cars of his own. He can dance, sing, and is a family man, soft-spoken, a lover boy, and a bit nerdy, too. He’s obsessed with her (in a healthy way!) and always makes her happiness a priority. He even plans to buy her a pink Porsche 911 Turbo S (because she’s been dreaming of one).

She believes to be a pretty, artistic, strong, diligent yet delicate person.

Rules:

1. Starting to plan to start and end my day with a little prayer to myself, gratitude first and then reminder of the dream girl I am and will be.

2. Taking time to connect with nature or engage in outdoor activities

3. Practicing daily meditation or mindfulness

4. Surrounding herself with positive and supportive people

5. Setting achievable goals and celebrating small successes

6. Maintaining a healthy lifestyle by eating nutritious meals and getting enough sleep

7. Being willing to step outside of their comfort zone and try new things

8. Prioritizing self-care and making time for activities that bring joy and relaxation

Snippet of my Pinterest board:

what's mine will always find me <3

My spotify playlist:

Suggestions are welcome !

My fav affirmations:

what's mine will always find me

i don't chase, i attract

i'm not afraid to get what i want

my value exists out of what others think of me.

my potential is limitless, and anything is possible as long as I believe

and most importantly,

The reminder that I'm already her, no matter what.

I go more in-depth in my notion but this is basically the outline for what I’m gonna do.

And a small note:

everything that I claimed is mine has proven itself to be true.

From Bambi, To Doll, Love, you 😘 .

[joelswritingmistress]

Oh Captain, My Captain: Chapter 11

Joel Miller x f!reader

After a few more tours on board The Mist of the Sea, you and Joel head hand-in-hand back onto dry land. You bump into a family member and aren't sure what they are going to think.

You were beginning to memorize the coastal tour of the island by the time you took your third and fourth rides that evening. Being a “stowaway” on Joel’s boat was something you wouldn’t soon get sick of. It was a charming, relaxing ride and you could see why he didn’t mind giving the tours for eight to ten hours a day.

At the end of the second ride, and the final one of the day near sunset, you snuck in a few stray moments of alone time on the upper deck before gleefully letting Joel whisk you off the vessel and onto the dock. Hand-in-hand you giggled, kissed and walked down the little pier feeling lighter than air.

Mid-laughter, you stopped and stared at a woman straight ahead on a bench outside of a little ice cream shop near your end of the road. She was carefully digging away at a cup of chocolate chip with her spoon and adjusted her big sunglasses. Even without seeing her eyes, you knew hers were locked on yours and then she gave the tiniest grin. Aunt Jo.

Joel leaned into you, unaware of the sudden change in your posture, and began kissing down your jawline with a grin. When you didn’t immediately reciprocate he pulled back with a half-smile.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, squeezing your fingers with his own.

You turned to him, mouth partially hung open, and felt your stomach knot up when Aunt Jo began her flip-flopped walk in your direction. Joel turned as she approached, not recognizing her from the boat ride she’d taken a few days before; though clearly he could see that the two of you knew each other.

“Hey, Aunt Jo.” You tried to smile, not knowing what would come next as all confidence drained from your voice and body, alike.

“Hey sweetie.”

“Is, uh, is my mom-”

“She’s down at the beach with your father,” Aunt Jo used her thumb to motion over her shoulder and then scooped herself out another bite of ice cream.

“Hi, I’m Joel.” He held a hand out in front of him and you cleared your throat.

“Sorry, yeah, um..” You motioned back and forth between the two of them, “Joel, this is my Aunt Jo. Aunt Jo, this is Joel.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Joel.” Aunt Jo returned the gesture and lifted her sunglasses so they sat above her forehead.

“Do, uh.. do you two need a minute?” Joel asked, picking up on the semi-awkward interaction.

Aunt Jo began to swat her hand and shake her head, but you simply said, “Yes, please.” You held up a finger and smiled at him, “Just a second.”

Joel half-smirked and gave a nod, “I can go get us some ice cream if you’d like.”

You nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“The chocolate-chip is to die for,” Aunt Jo told him, raising her half-empty cup.

“That sounds good to me,” Joel agreed, still grinning. He looked at you, “Two?”

“Sure.” You nodded again, and when Joel wandered toward the ice cream shop you gave Aunt Jo your full attention. “Okay, um..”

“Don’t worry,” your aunt said, putting her free hand up in the air, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly a secret.”

“So, why do you look so nervous?” Aunt Jo continued to tease you a bit, “I knew you didn’t have any interest in Rafe.”

“I just.. I don’t know what everyone’s going to say about me and Joel. So, I’m working on how to tell them. Cameron and Maggie already know,” you explained, referencing your siblings.

Aunt Jo looked over her shoulder and lowered her voice, “Are you sleeping with him?” She muffled the word ‘sleeping’ a bit and it made you both chuckle.

You sucked your teeth and then looked away with a grin. You looked back at Aunt Jo with another little laugh and shrugged.

“What’s his last name?” she went on, smirking as she indulged in your love life and her ice cream at the same time.

“Miller.” You swooned just saying his name, “He lives right up there.” You motioned to the overhanging balcony that was barely visibly up on the rock cliff that was surrounded by trees.”

“Shut up!” She squinted and shaded her eyes, tossing her side-swept bangs to the side. “(Y/N)!”

“I know, I know..” You giggled, “I..” You sighed now and took a deep breath.

“I’m jealous,” Aunt Jo teased again, sending the two of you into another giggle fit. “How old is he? He’s got to be in his early 30’s.”

“Something like that,” you agreed, looking to the side again.

“Wow.” Aunt Jo popped another scoop of chocolate-chip into her mouth and let it all sink in, “So, what’s the deal? Does he know you’re leaving at the end of the week?”

You felt yourself deflate a bit, “Yeah, he knows. But.. I mean, maybe I could stay a few extra days or something.”

Aunt Jo studied your posture, looking you up and down. “You’ve never had these butterflies for a guy before. Not even David.” She wiggled her eyebrows, referencing your first real boyfriend from high school. It made you snicker and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, I don’t know. It sucks that he lives so far away.”

“Are you looking for something beyond this week? I mean really.. Are you?”

You shrugged, “Ideally.. Yes.”

“Does he?” She toyed with her bangs again and you nodded. Aunt Jo looked over her shoulder and whispered, “Oh, here he comes, here he comes. Act like we’re talking about something else.”

You laughed and she smiled wide with a wink.

“You’re not going to tell anyone yet, right?” You whispered, prompting Aunt Jo to zip her lip with her fingers. “Thank you,” you added quietly.

“Two cups of chocolate-chip,” Joel greeted, handing you one of them, “Thanks to the recommendation from Aunt Jo.”

“My reviews will never let you down,” Aunt Jo told him. She took her final bite and scraped the bottom of the cup for some stray chips, “Well, you two have fun. I have to get back for happy hour with Uncle Mark. I swear I married Jimmy Buffet.” She leaned in to give you a hug, whispering, “He’s handsome,” in your ear.

“I know,” you whispered back.

Aunt Jo waved a goodbye upon exchanging “Nice to meet you’s” with Joel.

Phew. You took a deep breath and allowed Joel to tow you to the bench that your aunt had been sitting on.

“You okay?” He asked, nudging you with his elbow.

You nodded, feeling lighter than air after your conversation with Aunt Jo.

“Your aunt seems nice,” Joel said.

“She’s the best,” you agreed, taking a bite.

“What, uh.. What did she have to say?”

You knew what Joel was getting at. What did Aunt Jo have to say about the two of you, or about him.

“She said she was jealous,” you said with a little giggle, making Joel chuckle. “No, really, she’s.. Cool.”

“Will your parents feel that way?” Joel didn’t look at you as he said that. Rather, he circled the top of the ice cream cup with the tip of his spoon.

“Well, they’ll be next to find out.” You stared at him until he looked back at you before you leaned in and kissed him once on the lips. “I’m not trying to keep this a secret. It’s just happened really fast-”

“I know,” Joel interrupted, “I get it.” He half-smiled again and toyed with your hair. You shared another short series of kisses.

“I don’t want to leave at the end of the week,” you told him, leaning a head on his shoulder. Joel put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him.

“You could always.. stay.. for a bit.” He looked over at you.

“Eventually I’ll have to go home.”

“Yeah.” Joel sighed.

The two of you sat in silence for a minute or two before you finally turned to him again.

“We probably shouldn’t spend our time sulking.” You grinned up, continuing to lean against him. “Let’s do something.”

Joel scooped a bite of his ice cream and slipped it into your mouth. “Want to see a secret spot out on the water?”

“A secret spot?” You smiled wider, making him chuckle.

“That is, if you’re not sick of being on the water by now.”

You shook your head. Anywhere Joel was is where you wanted to be. Being secluded on the water with him felt like a little slice of heaven.

“When do we leave?” You asked him.

“Dusk.” Joel squinted his eyes, attempting to sound mysterious.

“Ooo, sneaky.” You took another bite of your ice cream and stared out at the setting sun just above the horizon. “That’s like.. an hour from now.”

“Yep.”

“Do you, uh, do you need to take a shower?” You asked him.

Joel lifted the front of his shirt to his nose. “Do I smell like salt water?”

You giggled and shook your head, “No. I just thought maybe I could convince you to take one with me. You know, kill a little time before the sun sets.”

He laughed out loud and his lips twisted into a smirk. You stared back at him from a few inches away, fighting off a smile that eventually turned into a laugh.

“So?” You asked, standing and reaching for his hand as you tossed your empty ice cream cup into the trash can nearby.

The little tug you gave his hand pulled Joel to his feet. “So..” He chuckled as you pulled him away from the ice cream shop and up the semi-hidden staircase between the trees to his house.

@untamedheart81 @readingiskeepingmegoing @buckyrino @megangovier @fifia-writes @armybts20137 @urbancowboyjoel @pedropascal111 @brittmb115 @beltzboys2015-blog @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @mellymbee @alex-does-art-things @gothcsz @sarap-77 @cuteanimalmama @just-mj-or-not

[thespirtualist25]

How can you use opportunities and your strengths 🧿

This is a general guidance, only take what resonates to you and leave the rest.

To book a personal reading - check my pinned post and i also do reiki healing sessions.

Pile - 1 . You guys can manifest easily, also get worn out mentally. You might encounter mean people at work area which drains you. I am don't worry and work hard. The hard work will pay off, the lesson is of confidence that is attached to your career life right now. Spirit channel solutions through your logic. Your work can be very hectic, underpaid and not in good working conditions. I also see few of you are being called you follow your soul purpose - this message is for specific people if you feel something when you read this line then the message is for you. Your strength are you can read people well, easily analyse what will happen, you are not scared to put your full efforts. What you need to keep in mind is - try not letting others take away credit of your work. Someone who can be your friend is a fox and not your friend. More like not loyal I got a lot of gossips too. That friend just use you for favours. I also feel you are quite ambitious. You can manifest your dreams easily. The career field relates to - travel, water, writing, poetry, printing, research, history & monuments can be good for you. Later on you will be getting more clarity on what you find happiness in doing. Some of you can be pilot too, will have to disconnect from some of the people in your life and will be forming new relationships. Your current relationship might not work out - if your partner has a lot of ego. I do see you need to see how people treat you. You are really missing the point on how and why people treat you. That's a gist of how they feed off your energy. Next 12 months are essential for your career. Create vision board , save money and manifest. Your manifestation will come true in upcoming 2-3 years.

Pile - 2. Love is entering in your life in the next 10 to 11 months you will be in a committed relationship. This person will be older than you and for some of you this will be your future spouse ( spirit strictly said some of you not all) . The person can be Taurus, Aquarius and libra. Some of them can have scorpio in major placements. Your connection with the divine is very strong. Your partner can be met through your professional network and at workplace or while travelling. You will travel a lot with this person. The person is practical af and will keep on your feet. So next year January you can expect to meet them I know late. As per your career you guys are used to Underestimating your potential. And you need to get clarity in terms of your goals. Your career can be slightly different from your plans. However your plans will help you keep the foot forward. I do see you need to stop beating around the bush and I also feel some of you need to speak positive affirmations, eat home cooked food, get positivity to make your subconscious mind as such. You are hesitant to align with your goals. You can be very artistic and creative , imaginative and dreamy and also innovative. This is your strength. You get the best ideas in solitude and work best while being calm. You have to stop being indecisive and take your own decisions. Upcoming months along with this can be hard emotionally so you might need a practical advice. Go out to clear your mind and have your own me time. Don't make promises you can't fulfill. Your will power and understanding is your strength. For career you have to be ready to put action and mentally stop self sabotaging. So that you clear the illusions you have created.

Pile - 3. Stop questioning yourself, you do question yourself a lot. You might feel and tell yourself you will always be stuck in the same situation. You have to prioritise your wants. I do feel you are getting a lot more prosperity. Also you need to fear less otherwise you will lose motivation to pursue your goals or others can take advantage of the situation. Your aggression will be very powerful for you. Take physical action don't delay this is the message I get. The world needs your idea. Your future is secure although you are in an insecure position. Some promotions are coming for a few of you. Don't trust people easily with your emotions. I can also feel the spiritual awakening is around the corner for most of you especially males. It could be male in your family so do support them I got this message. Stop fearing failure you are creating more blockages then are there. Wear black tourmaline this will help you at work. And also some people have hidden intentions at work don't trust or help everyone who approaches you - this particular message is not for all but for some of you. Try to work on your emotions so you don't falsely blame yourself.

[erisweekofficial]

Today we're celebrating @invisibleanonymousmonsters, the incredible author of Gust & Flame, a post ACOSF Eris x Reader fic!

If you love fics where only one person knows they are mates, OR love fics with fae-human relatonships OR want something longer to dig into this is going to be SUCH a treat. 🧡

Please check out the fic masterlist here. It's truly such a fun fic to read - please don't miss out on it.

Read on if you want to hear more about @invisibleanonymousmonsters's thoughts about Eris and what game they'd totally beat Eris at.

What drew you to Eris Vanserra as a character?

When writing fanfiction, I always gravitate towards side characters that are not given a lot of backstory or plot in the canon material. There is so much mystery around Eris. Even after five books, we still know so little about him. Is he truly an asshole? Or is he more like Rhysand than we want to admit? Is he a villain or is he actually a victim?  For me, it’s not fun to write fanfiction for characters that the source material has already fully fleshed out. There is no puzzle for me to figure out or an unfinished canvas to finish. For ACOTAR as a whole series – and an unfinished one, at that – Eris was one of the few male characters that had enough space for me to try to figure him out. And despite knowing so little about him, it’s still clear that he’s an extremely complex character with so many layers. And that’s an exciting type of character for me to write for. 

How do you think Eris handles power and responsibility?

0I have always viewed him as someone who sees what power without responsibility looks like: Beron, his father and High Lord. From the series, we have seen him hold responsibility for the army he commands of Autumn Court. And with that he risked his life to save just a handful of them. But we really have not seen the full extent of his power, so I am not sure I can confidently determine how he handles – or would handle – power. 

Can you give me a name for one of Eris's brothers? And also for one of his dogs?

In my series gust & flame, I named one of his brother’s Aurelius. Honestly, coming up with all his brothers’ names and keeping them straight in my mind has been one of the hardest parts of writing my series.  And I would name one of his dogs Orla.  Honestly, my brain is so fried from my stupid job and I’ve been writing my series so long that I’m pretty sure I named some of his dogs and now I can’t even remember what their names were. (Proof that I am a fanfiction writer, and there’s a reason I am not paid to do it.) 

What game do you think you could beat Eris at?

What an interesting question… Honestly, I don’t play any games. 😂Like, not a single board game or video game. I could probably beat him at a game of soccer. But I would definitely own his ass at Catch Phrase or Heads Up or Cards Against Humanity. 

[cld9writes]

✩that tight little dress✩ - namjoon x reader kinktober #2

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day two - roleplay

reader! afab!reader, fem!reader

word count! 1.9k words

tags! roleplay, wall sex, unprotected sex (don't do that.), dirty talk, self-indulgent degradation

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The man across the bar is staring at you like he’s starving. Deep, dark eyes slowly roaming over your body, lips pressed together in an attempt to keep from drooling. His finger strokes across the top of his thigh nervously. The deep red dress that hugs your figure is drawing him in, begging him to come over and flirt with you. Begging him to come over and take you back to his place. He wants to get to know every inch of your body, to rip that dress off and figure out who you are.

That’s the storyline, anyway.

You’ve decided to try something different with your boyfriend. You wouldn’t have guessed it when you started dating, but him being into roleplay made more sense as time went on. You’ve tried tons of different scenarios- college professor and his student dying for extra credit, massage therapist, royalty and their favorite suitor, forbidden lovers. But never pretending to be strangers. It seemed a little odd to him at first- why would you want to fuck a stranger when he’s right at home? But then you explained it to him-

You get the thrill and rush of feeling like you’re doing something naughty, something new. But you have the guaranteed safety net and emotional closeness of your pre-existing relationship. Once it became less about strangers and more about thrill-seeking, he was a hundred percent on board.

That’s what brought you to this dark nightclub. In your tight little dress, in your light little heels, with your tight little pussy aching to be stuffed full of cock. But you haven’t “met” him yet, so that’s entirely out of the question. At least let the man buy you a drink before he lets him take you home. 

The tall man practically glides over to you, standing a stool away from you. He waits for your eyes to meet him before 

“I know you probably don’t want to hear it from me, but you look stunning.” He opens. You smile, heart fluttering now that the scene has truly started. You giggle, trying to cover up the nerves.

“Thank you! I wanted to look nice tonight, but stunning is even better.”

“For tonight?” He wonders. “You have something special going on? I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

“I’m supposed to meet up with some friends.” You shrug, as if these non-existent friends are more party buddies than true confidants. “But don’t worry about imposing- I'd Much rather talk with you. I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”

“Kim Namjoon.” He smiles, sitting in the barstool next to you. “You have a lovely name, Y/N.”

You two continue to play the scene out over drinks. It’s fun to pretend to be these alter egos. It’s not anything special, but seeing how different your dynamic could’ve been if you met differently, or were different people, is certainly interesting. It doesn’t take long before you’re both slightly sick of the acting, though, and want to get to a different kind of fun. Namjoon breaks the silence first and clears his throat.

“Are you still meeting with your friends?” He asks. You roll your eyes, drinking the rest of your whiskey. 

“No, I’m not.” You say, completely indifferent. “Why?” Namjoon finishes his own drink before responding.

“I was wondering if you’d like to rest at my place. I’d hate for you to go home alone, and I’m sober enough to drive.”

“Why wouldn’t I just go back to mine? Make you drop me off?” You say indignantly. Something in his eyes shifts. They seem sharper, more direct. Your stomach clenches at the change.

“Because we both know what you really want,” He whispers, leaned in right next to your ear. “And I certainly can’t let you go home unsatisfied.” And that’s all it takes. Within minutes, you’ve paid the tab and left the bar.

He drives you back to “his” place, touching you the whole way. For just a moment, he dips his hand down between your legs. He doesn’t touch you, mind you, he wouldn’t dare risk fucking you in the back seat. But the closeness, the hovering, the heat of his fingers. It all makes you bite the inside of your cheek and clench your thighs together. He’s pleased with this reaction and places his hand back on top of your leg. 

He barely manages to get you through the front door before his hand has fully slipped inside your dress. He thought about you while you were walking up the stairs, but he’s fed up now. He just wants to touch you, to feel how wet you are for him. His long fingers slide over the slick bottom of your panties and he relishes in just how soaked you are.

“This worked up over a man you just met.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Shameful little girl, aren’t you?”

“Don’t be such an a-ass.” You snap, trying your best not to stammer. He’s not making it easy. He slips your panties to the side and sticks a finger inside your soaked cunt, testing the waters. The way your walls ache to clench around it tells him you need more. Ever the gentleman, that’s exactly what he gives you.

He pulls you into a kiss, the taste of whiskey still strong on his tongue. You moan into the kiss, grinding your clit down against the rough palm of his hand. He follows suit, moving his hand in small, controlled circles as he finger-fucks you. 

“I can’t wait to go to bed” He huffs. “Just let me fuck you right here.” 

“I don’t know… what if you drop me?” You know he won’t. He’s fucked you up against the wall pleanty of times. But you wanna hear him assure you.

“I never would. Trust me, I’d have to be one stupid bastard to let you fall. You’ve trusted me this much, and I know you’re aching for some cock. Just trust me one more time.” He slips a hand under your thigh, stroking your soft skin as he awaits your okay. 

“Fine.” You sigh. “Pick me up.” 

Without hesitation, he does just that. He hoists you up against the wall, holding you in one arm and pressing the two of your bodies into the wall for added support. After miraculously removing his clothing from the waist down, he taps the sides of your thigh 

You sling your legs over his hips, finally letting him support your weight. He teases your folds with the tip of his cock, fat head threatening to break you as it pushes in. You moan behind bitten lips, almost drowning out the growled “fuck” that slips out of the man before you.

His thick cock fits nearly perfectly within your plush pussy. Despite acting like you’ve never met, it’s clear your cunt has molded to his shape. It’s like he’s been designed to fill you up and hit all those spots every time. The perfect cock, all for you. 

Namjoon kisses you again, pushing you further into the wall as he begins thrusting. Because of the curl in your stomach, he’s instantly rubbing up against your g-spot. He fucks you hard and slow, desperate to feel each moan of yours vibrate on his lips.

“You’re such a slut. He spits between kisses. “You let a man you’ve never met rawdog you in his entryway? What a shame…” 

“I’m not a slu-” You attempt to protest. He chuckles and kisses you, swallowing your response.

He drops his hands down to your pussy, playing with your clit as he fucks you. The double stimulation is incredible, it’s got your mind going blank as he pushes you against the wall against and again. You’re probably going to have bruises on your shoulder blades but it doesn’t matter.

The sex is filthy. You can’t stop moaning, you can’t shut up. Your pussy is sopping wet, and each thrust fills the air with disgustingly lewd noises. Your creamy cunt is dripping everywhere, soaking his upper thighs and dripping out onto the floor. He’s teasing your clit like he isn’t pounding into your stomach, like you aren’t already about to cum. You’re babbling, going on and on about how good it feels and how happy you are it’s his cock filling you up. He tries to shut you up with kisses, but he’s getting drunk off your ramblings and can’t stop.

“You’re shameless…ngh- fuck!”

“Mhm! Mhm!” You nod desperately. You are. You’re clawing at the fabric of his shirt, desperate to get even closer. You want his dick in your stomach, in your throat. You want to be able to taste it from where it stands. Because his fingers and his cock have turned you into some kind of freak and you just want more of it.

“I’m g-gonna cum!” You pant. “Gonna cum s-soon~!” He speeds up a little bit, both his pelvis and fingers. You reach your climax, screaming in pleasure as you cream over his throbbing cock. He fucks you through your high, not giving a single shit about how sensitive you may be or how this may end for him.

Your legs shake and squeeze his sides as you ride out your orgasm, desperate for more and for it to be over at the same time. He’s still pounding into you relentlessly, and he grabs your jaw to make you look at him.

“You see how good that felt? See how good it feels to be a slut for me? You think anyone else could’ve given you that tonight? No one else would’ve bothered. But I took care of that cunt of yours. You got that?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Sir? Aren’t you ob- fucking hell- obedient-!” His hard persona is faltering, and you can tell it’s because he’s getting close to finishing himself. He can only take so much, but his hand falls right back to teasing your clit and swollen lips. He’s desperate for you to enjoy it for just as long as he does.

Your cumming has made it difficult for him, though. The extra warmth, softness, and tightness makes it feel like you’ve become a succubus, and he wants nothing more than to give his soul to you.

His thrusts are becoming erratic and sloppy. He’s chasing a high he’s far too close to, desperate to cum inside you. Desperate to defile that perfect cunt. His breathing is ragged and fast, he sounds like he’s been running for hours. And you still can’t get a single word out. You try. You try and you try. But the pounding of his cock and his fingers on your swollen clit make the words catch in your throat and come out and moans, curses or whines. Because all you can feel, all you’re aware of.

You two end up finishing at the same time. You reach a second orgasm, creaming all over his thick shaft. This is what finally does it for him, and he finishes inside of you. You feel your insides flood with hot, sticky cum  as he leans against the wall to support your weight. His thighs are shaking against yours, and he’s trying to control his breathing. He swallows hard, trying to calm down before speaking.

“I’m so glad I met you.” He sighs, a smile tugging at his lips. He’s not acting anymore. This is much deeper, much more real. You smile, dropping your head in lieu of giving him a hug. 

“I’m glad I met you, too.” 

You come to an unspoken agreement to stay like that for just a second longer. Just until you can stand on your own again.

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and that's day two. this one is a little more disjointed cuz i literally banged this out in under two hours. sorry about that. hope y'all enjoyed tho <3

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