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Insatiable | Mark Grayson x Incubus!Male!Reader
Summary: Mark Grayson dies of jealousy every time his flirty, easygoing, and perpetually exhausted best friendâwho he may or may not have a huge crush onâmakes out with random guys behind the school. Until the day you confess youâre a half-breed, like him. But not quite like him. Because while heâs half-Viltrumite, you are... half-incubus? Whatever that means⌠Markâs more than willing to find out.
Pairing: Mark Grayson x Incubus!Male!Reader
Warnings: 18+, making out, frottage/dry humping, (semi-public?) oral (Mark receiving), anal sex.
Tags: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Fluff, Pining Mark, Mutual Pining, Top!Mark, Bottom!Reader.
w.c: 19.7k | a/n: Heeey, itâs been forever!!! DID YOU MISS ME? Because I definitely missed you! Iâm really sorry for being so inactive lately. I've been so busy between a nasty case of writerâs block, college stress, and work chaos... yeah, life sucks. Anyway! Hereâs a little big treat I managed to squeeze out between bursts of inspiration and writerâs block. As always, English isnât my first language, so please forgive any mistakes here and there. Hope you enjoy it!
You have a reputation.
You know it. Mark knows it. Hell, probably half the school knows it.
It clings to you like a second skinâwhispers in the hallways, smirks in locker rooms, giggles that trail behind you in class. Youâre a flirt, and not the harmless kind either.
The kind whoâs always leaning just a little too close in crowded hallways, disappearing behind buildings with someone breathless and flushed, only to reappear like theyâve won the lottery. But then a week or two passes, and youâre gone. Slipping out of their lives like it never mattered. Like they never mattered. One minute, youâre all sultry glances and lingering touches. The next, youâre onto the next curious set of eyes across the room.
People talk. Some resent you. And yet, no matter how many times you walk away, thereâs always someone new, eager and willing, thinking maybe theyâll be the exception.
And today, Mark sees it happen all over again.
He watches from across the cafeteria as you chat up some guy in line. Youâre leaning in closeâcloser than necessary. Your shoulder brushes his, and your head tilts slightly when you laugh. That slow, lazy grin slides across your lips like itâs effortless. The guy blushes. Of course he does. He leans in without realizing it, like heâs being pulled by a string.
Mark doesnât even taste the food in his mouth anymore.
He stabs his fork into his tray, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the casual way your hand lingers near the guyâs arm, the light in your expression that no one else ever gets to keep. His stomach knots.
Youâre just playing. Again. He knows it. But that doesnât stop the heat from rising in his chest. Doesnât stop the slow burn of something he doesnât want to name.
Then you laugh at something.
The guy laughs back, awkward and eager.
Markâs knuckles go white around his fork.
âUh, Mark to Earth?â William says, waving a hand in front of him. âIâve been talking to you for, like, five minutes.â
Mark blinks, forcing his jaw to unclench. âHuh? Sorry. What?â
William raises an eyebrow, following Markâs gaze to where youâre now smirking at something the guy said.
âOh. Y/N again,â William mutters, deadpan. âShocking.â
Markâs ears are already burning. He glances down at his tray. âWhat about him?â
William sighs like heâs had this conversation in his head a hundred times already. âDude. At least pretend to be subtle. Jealousy isnât a good look.â
âIâm notââ Mark starts, a little too fast. He swallows hard, tries again with forced calm. âWhatever. Itâs justâIâm worried, okay?â
âOooh, worried. Right. Sure,â William drawls, nodding slowly like heâs humoring a toddler. âTotally not jealous that Y/Nâs out there reeling in his next victim while you sit here pouting and crying about it.â
Mark nearly chokes. âWhat are you evenâoh crap, heâs coming back. Shut up.â
He watches, frozen, as you murmur something to the guy before breaking away, walking straight toward them.
Mark jerks his eyes down to his tray, only now noticing the fork in his hand bent clean in half from how tightly heâd been gripping it. He swears under his breath, quickly ducking his hands beneath the table to fix it. Heâs midway through smoothing it back into shape when you slide into the seat beside him, smooth as ever.
You sigh, lazy and soft. âHey, nerds. Sorry Iâm late. Whatâre you gossiping about without me?â
Your head props in your hand, elbow on the table, eyes flicking between them with something like curiosityâbut dulled, like even that costs energy.
Itâs always a bit of whiplash when youâre around them. The version of you the school knowsâthe smooth-talking, flirtatious heartbreakerâmelts away almost instantly. With them, youâre just youâthat quieter, wearier version only your close friends ever get to see. Your posture slouches. The sharp smirk fades into something hazy. Your eyes, once bright and teasing, grow distant.
Itâs like watching a performance end the second the curtains close.
Mark watches, fascinated and frustrated in equal measure. He hadnât been lying earlierâhe is worried. Because behind the easy voice and sleepy grin, he sees itâthat edge of exhaustion you try so hard to hide. That distracted look in your eyes, like your mindâs always somewhere else.
âOh, we were just talking about Mark being jealâow!â William yelps, his leg jerking under the table.
Mark glares daggers at him, foot still pressed against Williamâs shin. His look says shut up so loud it might as well be spoken.
You raise a brow at the exchange, unimpressed. Even that tiny expression looks like it takes effort. Still, your gaze stays on William, waiting. ���âŚAbout Mark being what?â
Mark straightens too fast. âOh! Uh. Justâjust excited! Yâknow. About the tour. The Upstate U thing. Itâs gonna be⌠fun.â
William grumbles into his food, refusing to look up. âSuper fun.â
Your eyes light up just slightlyâjust enough to make Mark breathe easier. âOh yeah! Right. Thanks again, William, for letting us crash your date with that hot pre-med guy.â
âOh, well, since Mark insisted, how could I possibly say no? I love having my two best friends third- and fourth-wheeling all the time. Makes it so romantic.â
You snort, your posture loosening as you lean back and wink. âDonât worry, Will. Iâll make sure to drag Mark away the second we get there. Iâm not about to cockblock my friends.â
Williamâs smile turns razor-sharp. âGood. Make sure you keep Mark busy all day. And by all day, I mean all night too. You two are sharing a roomâtrust me, you donât wanna know what Iâll be doing in mine.â
âDone,â you reply breezily, nudging your knee against Markâs under the table without thinking.
Mark jerks like heâs been shocked, spine going stiff as his leg instinctively shifts away. He pointedly ignores the smug look William throws his way.
But of course, William isnât done.
âSo,â he drawls, âwhat were you talking about with that guy in line? You seemed real into it.â
Mark stiffens, lips pressing into a thin line as he shoots William a warning glare, one William very obviously avoids.
You blink, like the question catches you off guardâlike youâd already forgotten about that guy entirely. Then realization sets in, and you wince a little. âOhâthat. I was just⌠hungry,â you mumble, eyes darting away. âWanted to cut the line. Said something dumb to distract him, but standing around that long kinda sucked. I got tired.â
âHungry?â Mark echoes, the irritation draining from his face as concern rushes in to take its place. âYouâve already had, like, four trays. You still hungry?â
You glance at him, giving a half-hearted shrug. âI have a big appetite?â you offer, lips tugging into a weak sort-of-smile that doesnât quite reach your eyes.
Mark catches itâthe pout in your mouth, the barely-there glance toward his tray of food, the subtle tremble in your tone.
He doesnât hesitate. Quietly, he slides his tray across the table toward you, nudging it close enough to make the offer clear.
Your eyes widen just a bit.
âYou can have mine,â Mark says, trying to play it off with a shrug. âIâve had enough.â
Your face lights up instantly, all exhaustion momentarily eclipsed by a bright smile âSeriously? Dude, thank you! God, Iâm starving.â
Without another word, you pick up the forkâMarkâs forkâand dive into the food like you havenât eaten in days.
Mark tries very hard not to think about how youâre eating off the same fork he used. That itâs kind of likeâwell, not a kiss. Not really. But also kind of not not one. Heâs not five. He knows that. He tells his face that too, willing the heat in his cheeks to die down.
William snorts around a mouthful of his own food. âJesus, you eat like you never did before. Got a black hole in there or what?â
You snort too, pausing just long enough to swallow. âFeels like it.â
Mark watches you. Watches the way your cheeks puff as you chew, the smooth motion of your throat as you eat, the quick swipe of your tongue across your lips between bites.
He swallows, too.
âAlmost like youâre⌠insatiable,â he murmurs, without thinking.
You pause. Not for longâbut enough. Your rhythm falters as you glance back at him, something unreadable in your expression. Like he just struck a chord you werenât ready for.
It vanishes quickly. You laugh, not quite as bright as before. âYeah,â you say, chuckling, âfeels like it.â
But somethingâs changed. The words feel heavy now. Like a joke that isnât really a joke. Like thereâs something you want to say, but wonât.
Mark notices. Of course he does.
But, as always, he doesnât say anything.
Mark never seems to know what to say around you.
So he sits there.
Watching you.
And in his own quiet way, maybe heâs insatiable too.
By the time you all arrive at Upstate U and meet Rick, you make good on your promise to keep Mark out of Williamâs hair. You wave William off with a cheeky salute and a wink, then drag Mark into your own version of a tour: one that includes skipping the official info sessions, sampling from half the food trucks on campus, and wandering through hidden places neither of you expected to find.
Mark doesnât complain. In fact, heâs having a good timeâa great time, actually.
Heâs laughing too much. Smiling too easily. He tries not to notice the way his body jolts when his shoulder always ends up pressed against yours whenever you walk side by side. He tries not to focus on the way his chest swells a little too much every time you laugh at something he says. He really tries to ignore the way his heart picks up every time your eyes catch his and hold, just for a beat too long.
But what Mark canât ignoreâno matter how hard he triesâis the way your breath hitches after walking for too long. The way your pace slows, like your legs are dragging. The way your body leans into him like you donât even notice youâre doing itâlike gravityâs pulled you sideways and heâs the only thing holding you up. The way you keep rubbing your eyes, like you were trying to scrub the exhaustion out of them.
Eventually, Mark canât pretend anymore.
âHey,â he says gently, his hand brushing your shoulder to guide you toward the nearest bench. âLetâs sit for a bit.â
You blink, but let him. The second you sit down, your body sinks into the bench like itâs doing half the work your legs canât anymore.
âHowâre you feeling?â
âPeachy,â you mutter, voice low and strained. âWhy?â
Mark watches you carefully, his brows pulling together. Youâre sweating slightly, and your skin has that drained, almost translucent look to it.
âYouâre pale,â he says quietly. âAnd kind of⌠out of it. Are you sure youâre okay? We can go back to the dorms. You donât have to push yourself.â
You donât answer right away, eyes darting to the ground, breathing shallowly like youâre barely holding it together.
And what Mark doesnât getâwhat drives him a little crazyâis why you keep pretending youâre fine.
Especially with him.
âIâm justââ you start, then stop yourself, jaw tightening as you press your lips together in visible frustration ââhungry.â
Your eyes drift past him, unfocused, flicking over the stream of students walking by. You look like youâre scanning them. Assessing.
âI should eat,â you mutter, dazed. âI should⌠eat somethingâŚâ
Mark straightens in his seat, alarm rising in his chest. âI can get you something,â he offers quickly, ignoring the fact youâve already eaten enough for three people today. He just wants to help. âSomething sweet. Maybe your blood sugarâs low?â
You look up at him then, and something in your expression knocks the wind out of him. Your brows pinch, eyes cloudy, lips parted like youâre about to cry.
âThatâs not enough,â you whisper.
Mark blinks. âWhat do you mean?â
Then, without hesitation, without shame, you whisper, âI wanna kiss someone.â
Mark freezes.
âWhat?â
âI need someone,â you repeat, more firmly this time, bracing your hands against the bench like youâre about to stand. âIâll find someone. Justâstay here, okay? It wonât take more than fifteen minutes.â You push yourself up, but stumble as you take a step forward.
Mark doesnât move. Doesnât breathe. Just stares at you like he doesnât recognize you for a second.
Kiss someone? Now? You were clearly unwellâtoo pale, too drained, barely standingâbut even now, even like this, you were going to throw yourself at some stranger? After spending the entire day together, after laughing and joking and walking shoulder-to-shoulder like you actually wanted to be around him?
His throat tightens. A bitter coil wraps around his heart, hot and suffocating and impossible to shake. Something ugly rears its head in his chest. A sick twist of frustration and hurt andâ
God.
William was right.
Jealousy.
Mark presses his lips together. He doesnât want to be the kind of guy who gets angry about this.
Heâs not entitled to you. He never was.
But that doesnât stop his hands from curling into fists in his lap, knuckles white.
Because youâre clearly hurting. And you wonât tell him why.
Because youâre pushing yourself toward strangers, toward danger, when heâs right here.
Because, for once, he wants you to pick him.
And you donât.
Before you can take another shaky step, Mark stands up and grabs your wrist.
âNo.â
The word comes out sharper than he means it toâclipped, almost angry.
You stop, turning to him with startled, uneasy eyes. âIâll be right back, Mark. I swear.â
âNo,â he says again, firmer this time, his brow knitting. âYouâre about to collapse, Y/N. Iâm not letting you go toâwhat, kiss some random guy just because youâre feeling off?â
You blink, taken aback by his tone. âLook, I get youâre worried, butââ
âNo, Y/N,â he cuts in, voice rising, frustration breaking through. âIâve never judged you for the crap people say about you, alright? Never cared what they whispered in the halls. But this? This is insane. Youâre sick, and your solution is to hook up with a stranger? Weâve been here less than a day!â
The next words slip out before he can stop them.
âCan you not act like some hormone-crazed idiot for five minutes and just take care of yourself?â
The second the words leave his mouth, he wants to take them back. But itâs too late.
You go completely still, eyes going wide.
Then, slowly, your expression hardens.
âHormone-crazed idiot?â you echo, voice low and cutting, disbelief flickering in your eyes. âIs that what you think I am?â
âWaitâY/N, I didnât meanââ
You tear your hand from his grip, expression stony. Itâs like a dam breaks beneath your exhaustion, a spark of rage reigniting the strength that had been fading from you all day.
âWhat am I then, huh? Just some horny screw-up who canât go a day without climbing someone? You think this is fun for me? That I like being like this?â
Mark shakes his head, panicked, but not quite understanding the meaning of your words. âNoâGod, no, thatâs not what I meant, itâs justââ
âGuess I shouldnât be surprised. Everyone else thinks Iâm just someâsome fucking slut who canât keep it in his pants. But youââ Your voice breaks. âI thought you knew me better than that, Mark.â
Markâs stomach drops. âI do! I swear Iââ
Before he can finish, Williamâs voice cuts through the charged air, calling over the crowd, his arm linked with Rickâs.
âHey, idiots! Having fun withâohâŚâ Williamâs voice trails off, sensing the thick tension between you two. He awkwardly lowers his raised arm. âHey⌠is everything okayâŚ?â
Mark barely holds back a groan, cursing himself for the words that slipped out so stupidly. He wants to apologize, to pull you aside, to fix itâ
But then a sudden explosion shakes the ground beneath them, a cyborg-looking-monster crawling out of a hole.
What happens next is a blur of instinct and adrenaline. One second heâs Mark Grayson, desperate to take back his wordsâthe next, heâs Invincible, saving his best friends from death.
And when itâs over, when he drags himself back, bruised and breathless, to where William and you are huddled in safetyâ
William stares at him, whispering under his breath, âMarkâŚ?â
And youâyouâre not surprised. Not even angry. You just frown, gaze deliberately avoiding his, eyes unreadable and distant.
Itâs in that moment Mark knows heâs screwed up big time.
You donât speak to him again until later, when the nightmare finally endsâSinclair in GDA custody, William shaken but safe, and Rick badly wounded but alive.
âCanât believe Sinclair nearly turned you into one of those things,â William mutters, arms wrapped tightly around Rick.
Mark stands off to the side, awkward and out of place in the fluorescent-lit room. Youâve long since excused yourself, mumbling something about sleeping this fucking day away. The words had been dressed up as a joke, but Mark saw through itâthe way your hands trembled as you gripped the doorframe, the deep shadows under your eyes, the sheen of sweat clinging to your pale face.
He remembered the way you leaned on him earlier, how your steps had faltered, how you kept pretending you were okay.
You werenât.
And now, after everything thatâs happened, Markâs worried sick.
âIâllâŚâ he starts, voice flat, drained. âIâll go to bed too. You guys, um⌠get some rest.â
Rick nods. William does too, but his eyes lingerâsharp, knowing, and meaningful. A silent get your shit together.
Mark tries.
The room is dim when he slips in, cold moonlight pooling faintly through the curtains. Youâre already curled up on one of the beds, facing the wall. For a moment, he feels crushed because youâre still mad at him.
Moving quietly, he strips out of his clothes with mechanical, resigned motions, slipping into his pajamasâuntil your voice cuts through the silence.
âMark?â
He freezesâmid-motion, halfway through tugging his jeans offâheart leaping to his throat.
He turns quickly to face you, finding you sitting up groggily in bed, hair tousled, eyes heavy with exhaustion.
âY/N,â he breathes, almost stumbling over your name. Heâs so relieved to hear you talk to him again, but the guilt crashes in just as fast. âAre youâdid I wake you? Sorry, I didnât mean toââ
You shake your head slowly, blinking away the haze. âNo. I wasnât really sleeping anyway.â
Mark hesitates by the edge of his bed, torn between giving you space and wanting to inch closer. âDo you⌠need something?â he asks softly. âWater? Food? Anything?â
Youâre quiet for a beat, looking at him in a way that makes his heart clenchâlike youâre still tired, still hurt, but no longer angry. Just⌠worn down.
âNah,â you murmur, voice low. âIâm fine.â
Silence stretches between you.
Mark sits there, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on him. He hates itâthe tension, the awkwardness, the distance, especially when you were having such a good time today. The kind of fun that only happens when youâre with someone you really like.
And Mark likes you.
Probably a lot more than he wanted to admit.
Probably enough to get on his knees and beg if thatâs what it would take to fix this. Heâs already forming the words in his head, some clumsy apology laced with sincerity, when you speak first.
âSo⌠Invincible, huh?â you mutter, the faintest edge of amusement cutting through your exhaustion.
Mark latches onto the sound of your voiceâthat toneâlike a lifeline.
âYeah,â he chuckles awkwardly, rubbing his neck. âThatâs, uh. Thatâs me.â
You hum, noncommittal, gaze drifting toward the window. âWere you ever going to tell us?â
Markâs breath catches. His smile falters. It would be easy to lie. To say yeah, eventually, of course.
But all that comes out is a quiet, â...I donât know.â
You donât say anything right away. You just rub at your eyes again, the way you always do when youâre trying to rub away sleep. It sets Mark on edge. His fingers twitch with the urge to reach outâcheck your temperature, get you water, make you take something, do something.
But he stays put.
Eventually, you exhale a long, slow breath. âItâs fine. Iâm not mad about that.â
That.
Mark winces, the word cutting a little deeper than it should.
And then, finally, it spills outâearnest and clumsy and too fast.
âAboutâabout what I said earlierâŚâ he begins, voice low. âI didnât mean it like that. I donât care what you doâor donât doâwith other people. I swear. I was just⌠I was just really worried about you. You looked like you were about to pass out, and then hearing you say you wanted to kiss someoneâGod, I didnât know what was happening. And I panicked. And I said something shitty. Iâm sorry.â
Your expression doesnât change at first. And Mark waits, his stomach a mess of nerves, the silence dragging sharp between you.
Then you sighâlong and heavyâand finally meet his eyes.
âI know,â you murmur. âGod, I know. You donât understandâcanât understand whatâwho I am. I shouldnât have gotten mad at you for not knowing. Thatâs not fair.â
Mark frowns. He doesnât feel any betterâif anything, worseâbecause it sounds like youâre taking the blame for what he said. And that doesnât sit right with him.
âWhat do you mean?â he asks, voice quiet. âI was the one who basically called you a hormonal mess to your face. Thatâs on me.â
You press your lips together and shake your head. âYeah, well⌠I was the one who said I needed to kiss someone right there. Without context, that soundsâŚâ You trail off, flinching, dragging a hand down your face. âI was out of it. I shouldnât have said it like that, but I was desperate. Still am.â
Markâs frown deepens, confusion flickering across his face. He opens his mouth, then closes it, unsure of what he even wants to ask. But the question lingers in his chest, heavy and jealous and aching.
Desperate? Still?
âYou stillâŚâ he starts, then hesitates. âStill want to kiss someone?â
You blink at him, startledâbut not like heâs wrong. More like you didnât expect him to say it out loud.
Mark clears his throat, awkward, trying to shove the twist of jealousy in his chest down, his imagination running wild with images of you seeking out someone elseâs lips in the dark.
âI⌠I think Iâm gonna need a little more explanation than that,â he says carefully. âBecause if this is still about kissing someone, IâmâuhâIâm not following.â
You go quiet for a moment, just looking at himâeyes uncertain, troubled, teeth pressing into your lower lip like youâre holding something in.
And thatâs when Mark really sees it.
Itâs serious. Whatever this is, itâs eating at you. And suddenly, heâs crossing the room without thinking, settling gently at the edge of your bed like heâs afraid to startle you.
âHey,â he says softly. âYou can tell me anything. You know that, right?â
You look at him, eyes wide and tired, like you havenât slept in days. And then, with a dry, humorless smile, you shake your head.
âWell,â you whisper, ânow that I know youâre Invincible... guess I owe you some truth too.â
Markâs pulse jumps. âTruth?â
âCall it⌠an exchange of secrets,â you say, voice quiet, almost shy in a way that makes Markâs stomach flip.
He leans in without thinking, drawn like gravity. âA secret?â The word comes out breathless. Heâd thought he knew everything about you.
You hesitate. Nervousness is written all over youâtense shoulders, twitching fingers, the way you canât quite sit still. But even so, you meet his eyes, refusing to look away.
âPromise you wonât look at me differently,â you whisper, so quiet he has to lean even closer to hear. âPromise this wonât change anything between us.â
Mark doesnât hesitate. âI promise.â
Because reallyâhow bad could it be?
You lick your lips, glance down at your hands, still fidgeting in your lap.
âMark,â you begin slowly, âmy family has... a curse. Itâs been in our blood for generations. Andââ Your hands fist in the sheets. âThereâs nothing I can do to stop it. I need you to understand that. This isnâtâitâs not a choice, okay?â
Markâs brows knit together, already twitching with worry as his mind jumps to every worst-case scenario. Heâs heard of curses. Heâs seen what they can do. AmandaâMonster Girlâwas proof enough that they were never just quirky inconveniences. People suffered under curses. People died because of them.
And the way youâre speaking nowâso serious, so insistent, practically pleadingâhits something raw inside him and twists.
He nods, quickly, urgently. âOkay,â he says. âOkay. I believe you.â
You swallow hard, hands tangled tightly in the bedsheets.
âIâmâŚâ You close your eyes for a moment, like it physically hurts to say it. âIâm notâIâm not fully human, Mark.â
The silence that follows is thick.
Markâs eyes widen, those words bouncing around his skull, impossible to ignore.
âPart of my bloodlineâon my motherâs sideâis something else,â you continue, carefully, assessing his reaction with anxious eyes. âWe call it a curse, but itâs more like a... condition we inherit.â
Mark listens intently, piecing together the implications, nodding slowly along.
Finally, you exhale shakily, gaze steady but vulnerable.
âIâm part incubus.â
The words hang heavy in the air.
âThatâs why I needed to kiss someone earlier,â you admit, fingers twisting in the sheets. Your cheeks burn even in the dim light. âNormal food... itâs not enough. I can eat it, but it doesnât sustain me. I needââ A shaky exhale. âArousal. Desire. Intimacy. The energy that comes with it.â
Mark watches as you shrink into yourself, the confession leaving you vulnerable in a way heâs never seen.
âAnd when I donât...â You hesitate, then force yourself to go on. âWhen I go too long without it, my body starts to shut down. You saw it earlier today. Thatâs what it looks like when Iâm starving. I was trying to hide it because I didnât wantâI didnât want you to know this part of me.â
Mark just stares, stunnedânot with disgust or fear, but with a dawning realization. His mind scrambles, trying to make sense of everything. Okay.Youâre part incubus. Heâs not totally sure what that entails, not really, but he can piece it together. You feed off arousalâoff desire. And without it, you get sick. Really sick. Okay. That much he gets.
Then finally, softly, âYouâre sick because youâre starving.â
You grimace at that, the words clearly stinging, and glance away. Still, you nodâjust barely. A small, exhausted gesture.
âYou kiss people to⌠eat?â he asks slowly. âSo back at schoolâwhen you were with peopleâyou were feeding?â
You donât nod this time. You wince instead, tilting your head with an awkward expression.
âNot exactly,â you murmur. âI donât feed from kisses. Thatâs not enough. I justâŚâ Your voice dips, suddenly shy. âI just mess around long enough to make people feel... something. Get their arousal going. When things start to, yâknow, heat up.â
The second that last phrase escapes your lips, you let out a groan and bury your face in your hands.
âGod, I hate saying it out loud. I hate how it sounds. But itâs not like I can turn it off, okay? If I could, I would. Believe me.â
Your voice is muffled behind your palms, frustration and shame coloring every word.
âHey, hey,â Mark says gently, reaching out to take your hands in his. He pulls them away from your face with soft insistence, making sure you see the sincerity written all over his expression. âI donât care, okay? This isnât something you chose. Itâs notâitâs not your fault.â
Mark swallows hard, glancing at you againâreally looking. Youâre still pale. Still swaying a bit where you sit. There are dark, bruised shadows beneath your eyes, and you look one bad night away from collapsing.
âI mean⌠if you didnât feed,â Mark says slowly, working through it aloud, âyouâd be like this all the time, right? That sounds like itâd really suck. I mean, look at you now. Youâre stillâŚâ
He trails off, his gaze drifting over you with a worried crease in his brow.
A short, dry huff escapes you. You blink at him, tired and a little amused. âYeah. It sucks. I could even die.â
You say it so lightly, like itâs no big dealâlike youâre jokingâand it knocks the breath right out of him.
Mark stares, stunned for a beat, the weight of that sentence finally settling in.
Then he leans forward, closing the space between you, close enough that his breath brushes yours. His hands slide up to your shoulders, firm and grounding as he pulls you gently toward him.
âYou could die?â Mark hisses, panic tightening his voice. His fingers dig into your shoulders, eyes wide with fear. âHowâhow much time do you have left? Why didnât you tell me? Shitâwe should find someone immediately. God, I was the one who stopped you earlierâIâm such an idiot. Oh my god, are you dying?â
âMark, Mark, breathe,â you say, raising both hands in a placating gesture, a genuineâif tiredâsmile tugging at your lips. âThat only happens in really extreme cases, alright? Iâm nowhere near that point. I swear.â
Mark lets out a shaky breath, but his grip on you doesnât ease.
âThen why notââ He swallows hard, hating the question even as it leaves his lips. âWhy not stay with one person? Wouldnât that be easier than constantly finding new people?â
What he really wants to ask is, Why arenât you ever serious with anyone? Why not choose someone, stay safe, be safe?
But your eyes drop, the smile fades, and something heavy settles over your expression. You look sad.
Mark hates it instantly.
âMarkâŚâ you murmur, hesitant. âYou understand I feed off these people, right? What do you think that means?â
You donât wait for his answer.
âThereâs only so much I can take before they start breaking down,â you say, voice low. âAt first itâs subtleâjust a little fatigue. But after a week or two, itâs worse. They lose sleep. They get distracted. Their appetite drops. Their energy drains. And Iâm not even feeding properly. Just kisses, Mark. Barely enough to keep myself upright, and it already wears them out.â
Markâs brows knit together, the weight of your words hitting hard, sinking deep.
âAnd thatâs me holding back,â you say, shoulders tense. âThatâs me playing it safe. And itâs still not enough.â
You glance at him then, eyes glinting with something close to fear.
âWhat happens if I stop holding back? What if I lose control? What if I finally taste the real thingâand I canât stop? Iâm scared, Mark. Iâm scared Iâll hurt someone. Kill someone.â
The raw honesty in your voice does something to Markâs pulse. He should be shocked. Maybe even disturbed. But all he feels is an overwhelming pullâan urge to make you feel safe, to ease that pain etched into every word.
âThe real thing?â he echoes, voice rough despite already knowing the answer.
You give a dry smile, raising a brow. âSex, Mark.â Then your gaze drops, and color creeps into your cheeks as you mumble, embarrassed, âI think itâs the only thing that can truly sustain me. Maybe for months, if Iâm lucky. But humans areââ You pause, frustration coloring your voice. âHumans are just so... fragile.â
Mark swallows hard, throat dry. Heâs still holding onto your shoulders, the heat of your skin seeping through the soft fabric of your t-shirt. He can feel the tremor in your muscles, subtle but undeniable. The shallow rise and fall of your chest. Even now, even after spilling everythingâyouâre still trying to hold it together.
And he hates it.
Hates that youâre suffering.
Hates that he canât fix it. Not unless you found someone toâ
Found someoneâ
Someone.
Markâs breath hitches. His eyes flicker from your face to his hands on you⌠then back up. The idea hits him like lightningâsudden, bright, impossibly simple and obvious.
His mouth moves before he can stop it.
âCan I help?â
Your head snaps up, eyes widening. âWhat?â
Mark doesnât back down. His grip tightens slightly as he leans in, voice dropping to a whisper. âYouâre starving. And Iâm... here.â A beat. âLet me help.â
The offer hangs between you, trembling in the charged silence.
Mark can feel the heat rising to his face, nerves unraveling beneath his skin. Heâs suddenly hyperaware of how close you areâclose enough to see the way your pupils swallow the color of your eyes, close enough to feel your breath hitch.
âMark,â you breathe, stunned. Then you shake your head quickly, like youâre trying to shake the thought loose. âNo. Thatâsâdid you not hear what I just said? I donât wanna hurt you. You could end up dyingââ
âIâm not human!â he blurts out, voice rising a little in panic, desperate for you to understand. âI meanâIâm not entirely human, like you. Iâm half Viltrumiteâthatâs why I have these powers. An alien race on my dadâs side andââ He stops, shaking his head hard. Thatâs not the point. âAnyway! Iâm strong. Durable. I heal fast and have insane stamina. I wonâtâwonât get hurt if youâŚâ
He trails off, drowning in his own embarrassment. God, he hopes he doesnât sound desperateâjust a friend trying to help. Nothing weird about it. Even ifâshitâeven if it means kissing you.
Mark nearly chokes on his own spit.
Yeah. Right. Kissing. Thatâs what heâs offering.
Noâitâs more than that.
He feels it land in his stomach, heavy, hot, terrifying.
âIf we have... sex,â he finishes, cheeks flaming. But the moment he says it, he feels stupid and awkward, his eyes darting everywhere but yours. âIâI mean, we can try. You feel awful all the time, right? And Iâm strong. I can take itâI know I can. Because, you knowâŚâ He lets out a nervous, breathless laugh, too fast, too forced. âIâm, uh⌠Iâm Invincible. Thatâsâhaâthatâs me.â
The laugh dies a quiet death in his throat.
He bites his lip, eyes dropping to the floor. Silence settles between you again, thick and suffocating. Mark can hear the pounding of his heart, wild and humiliating, slamming against his ribs like itâs trying to escape. Godâhe sounds so stupid. You probably think heâs being weird. Or desperate. Or both.
Offering toâGod. He canât even say it in his own head without his face going up in flames. But heâs thinking it.
Worseâheâs been thinking it for a while now.
He starts remembering all those times you snuck off after school, slipping behind the gates with someone new, someone who wasnât him. All those nights Mark lay in bed wondering what you were doing, what it would feel like if you picked him instead.
He remembers how you smiled at him in the middle of crowded hallwaysâjust for a secondâand how his heart would stutter in his chest like it forgot how to work. Only for that smile to shift to someone else a moment later, while Mark just stood there, swallowing disappointment like it was a habit.
He remembers how you flop onto his bed whenever you visited, casually thumbing through his comics and calling them lame with a crooked grin, even though you keep reading them anyway just because he likes them.
Your body stretched out in his sheets, your scent lingering in his pillows long after youâve left. The way your lips tug into a smirk when Seance Dog does something stupid, or how you bite your lower lip when youâre focused, brow twitching every time a plot point annoys you. The way your smile sneaks in, helpless and honest, when you stifle a laugh just to mess with him.
Markâs thought about kissing you before. Right there, in the quiet of his room, while you were sprawled across his bed, completely at ease. But he never dared.
And now, sitting here in the stillness of this dorm, you only inches away, the thought slips back in.
Mark thinks of kissing you again. Now. But heâs still too shy to try.
Then, soft and amused, you chuckle quietly, breaking the silence.
Markâs head snaps up, lips already pulling into a nervous pout, bracing for your usual teasing.
But youâre not teasing.
Youâre looking at him with something else in your eyesâsoft wonder, a kind of startled tenderness, like youâre seeing him clearly for the first time. Your smile is crooked, small. âInvincible, huh.â
Mark swallows thickly and nods. âInvincible.â
A beat.
Then your fingers reach for his collar, curling into the fabric with a tremble he can feel, and Markâs heart just stops.
âMark Grayson,â you whisper, half awe, half fear, âdo you have any idea what youâre signing up for?â
Markâs never been more certain about anything.
âI do.â
You smile at himâsoft, fondâand for the first time in what feels like forever, the exhaustion in your eyes eases, just a little. Just enough to make Markâs chest tighten.
Then you tug him closer by the collar of his shirt, and Markâs breath stutters. Your breath mingles with hisâwarm, steady, groundingâwhile his comes out shallow and trembling, lips parted, eyes half-lidded, skin flushed with want.
Youâre so close. So unbelievably close. The heat of your lips brushes his, barely there, and Mark leans in without realizing, drawn to you like a magnet.
You inhale deeply, and then let out a soft, pleased hum, one that shudders down his spine.
âYou really want it,â you whisper, almost to yourself, voice tinged with wonder. âI can smell it on you.â
Mark doesnât get the chance to ask what that meansâhow you can know. Because then your mouth crashes into his, and you groan into the kiss like itâs a relief, like itâs something youâve needed just as badly.
Markâs eyes flutter shut, and melts.
It starts slowâtentative. Testing. But Mark sinks into the kiss like he was made for it, hands finding your waist and gripping tight. You sigh into his mouth, lips parting, and Mark doesnât even thinkâhe just deepens the kiss, tongue brushing yours, hungry and desperate and real.
And the noise you makeâ
God.
Markâs never heard anything better.
He presses into you, completely lost in the momentâlost in the feel of your mouth against his. Slowly, your back meets the mattress with a soft thud, and Mark follows, bracing himself on his elbows and palms above you. But neither of you pulls awayânot even for a second. The kiss deepens, tongues greedily tangling, hungry for more.
Heat coils low in Markâs gut. His mind spins, thoughts breaking apart like static. Itâs overwhelmingâin the best possible way. Your mouth is warm, wet, desperate, kissing him like you want to devour him.
And maybe⌠maybe you do.
When he finally pulls back, gasping, the sight of you steals what little breath he has left. Color has returned to your cheeks, your eyes bright and focused now, dark with want. The transformation is startlingâlike watching a wilting flower spring back to life after rain.
Mark swallows thickly. âBetter?â he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
You inhale, lips slick and a little swollen. âBetter,â you murmur. Then you raise a hand, fingers brushing tenderly along his cheek. âYou?â
Mark pauses. He thinks about the warmth simmering in his chest, the way his skin tingles under your touch, how every nerve feels alive. If youâre better, that means itâs workingâthat youâre feeding off his arousal. Off him. But he doesnât feel drained. Not really. Just the heady buzz of desire, the thrill of finally having you beneath him. If this is what feeding you feels like, heâd gladly offer himself up again and again.
âStill good,â he murmurs, smiling crookedly. âReally good.â
Your smile lights up the dim space between you as you pull him back down. Mark groans into the kiss, body sinking against yours when your hand slips behind his back and pulls him in. Chest to chest. Hips to hips. The contact burns through his clothes, sending sparks dancing along his nerves.
This is for you, he thinks wildly as his hips jerk forward of their own accord. To make you strong again.
The moan you let out against his lips is downright sinful. Your legs part instinctively, guiding him to slot perfectly between them. âMarkââ you gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, âare you sureââ
His answer comes in another sharp roll of his hips, drawing a punched-out sound from your throat that goes straight to his cock.
Yes. God, yes.
No words could possibly capture the certainty thrumming through his veins. You seem to understand anyway, arching up to meet his next thrust with a filthy grind that has you both moaning into each otherâs mouths.
The heat between you is unbearable nowâthe drag of fabric against oversensitive skin, the way your hardening lengths press together with each desperate movement. Markâs never been this hard in his life, every nerve ending alight with the need to give you more, more, more.
âSo good,â you slur against his lips, voice thick with pleasure. âFuck, Mark, so goodââ
The words go straight to his core, and Markâs eyes flutter shut, hips moving faster, chasing that sound, chasing that praise. He wants to hear it again. He wants to earn it. Relishing the way your body trembles beneath himânot from exhaustion now, but from the pleasure heâs giving you.
He can feel it happening; the strength returning to your limbs even as his own energy wanes. Itâs not unpleasantâjust a deep, satisfying fatigue, like after an intense flight. More than worth it to see color flooding back into your face, to feel your grip on him growing steadier by the second.
So he keeps going, harder, faster, grinding against you like some hopelessly horny teenager.
Turns out the hormone-crazed idiot had been him all along.
âF-Fuckââ Mark chokes out, his voice raw with need, skin flushed and hypersensitive. âY/N... god, Y/N...â
You moan in response, fingers twisting in his shirt as you drag him closer. The kiss turns messyâall biting lips and clashing teeth, the kind of desperate intensity that leaves you both breathless. Your hands slip beneath his shirt, palms scorching trails across the sweat-slick planes of his back. Mark shudders violently, muscles jumping under your touch.
âMarkââ you gasp, arching up against him, pleasure painting your features. âMmh, Markââ
And it hits him.
Youâre in the dorms.
William and Rick are probably still very much awake. Itâs the middle of the night. And both of you are getting way too loud.
Markâs face flames with embarrassment.
And when you open your mouth to moan again, he panicsâjust a littleâand presses a hand gently over your mouth to muffle the sound.
Your eyes fly open, dazed and confused, locking with his. And shitâthe sight of you like that nearly makes him lose it right then and there.
âShh,â Mark whispers, breath ragged, forehead pressing against yours. âTheyâll hear us.â
You go still for a beat, eyes flicking to the door like youâve only just remembered where you are. Then you nod slowly, locking eyes with him again.
Mark gives a shallow thrust, still holding his palm over your mouth, just in case. This time, with your lips no longer fused together, his eyes remain openâwatching every microexpression of pleasure that crosses your face. The way your pupils blow wider with each thrust. The tension building in your jaw. Most striking of allâthe life flooding back into your exhausted features as you meet him halfway.
The silent exchange is somehow more intense than the noises youâd been making before. Mark reads every hitched breath in the flutter of your lashes, every spike of pleasure in the way your fingers dig into his back.
The room is filled with nothing but the sound of heavy breathing, the faint creak of the old bed, and the rustle of tangled sheets. Your gazes lock, dark and searching and hungry. And god, god, Mark has never felt anything like this.
Thereâs a thrill buzzing down his spine, a flutter in his chest thatâs got nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with you. His heart pounds wildly, not just from exhaustion, but from pure, surging adrenalineâpumping heat into every vein, every muscle.
His muscles twitch and flex instinctively from the sheer pleasure wracking his body. His breath catches and his cock aches, hard and leaking into his boxers, needier than itâs ever been.
Mark wouldnât trade this moment for anything.
The heat coils inside him, slow and molten, building pressure with every thrust and grind of your hips against his. Your eyes never leave him, and it wrecks him. That lookâlike heâs the only thing in the world that matters. The way youâre giving yourself to him, trusting him, wanting him.
Wanting him.
You want him.
The realization hits like lightning, and Markâs whole body reactsâhips grinding harder, cock pulsing desperately, breath coming fast and uneven as the world narrows to nothing but you. His brain short-circuits, every rational thought evaporating under the weight of that need.
Then your hand slips down.
Past his waistband.
Fingers wrap around his cock, warm and sure and so willing.
Mark chokes on a breath, buries his face in the crook of your neck just as you stroke himâonce, twice.
And thatâs all it takes.
His whole body shudders violently as he comes, hard, gasping into your skin, cock pulsing in your hand, spilling over your fingers with a soundless cry. His hips jerk helplessly as you milk every last drop from him, until he collapses against you, sensitive and spent.
His breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps, thighs twitching, mind blissfully blank. The exhaustion hits him like a waveâa deep, satisfying lethargy that weighs down his limbs, his eyelids fluttering as he fights to stay awake.
âYou okay?â you murmur, voice rough, fingers still lazily stroking his oversensitive flesh. Mark shudders, biting back a whimper, and instead sinks his teeth into your shoulderânot hard, just enough to ground himself. âMark?â
âIâm fineâŚâ he slurs, voice thick with sleep and satisfaction. âGod, Iâm so fucking fine.â
You chuckle, low and warm, but your grip tightens again, just for a secondâjust enough to have him whining, squirming, his spent cock twitching pathetically in your hold before you finally relent.
Mark forces himself up on shaking arms, giving you space to breathe. But in that exact moment, as your hand slips free of his boxersâfingers glistening with his releaseâhe sees something that nearly undoes him all over again.
With zero hesitation, you bring those cum-slick fingers to your mouthâand lick them clean.
Markâs brain short-circuits.
His mouth goes dry as he watches your tongue flick out, slow and deliberate, catching every drop like itâs something precious, your eyes locked on his the entire timeâdaring him to look away.
âShitââ Mark chokes, his spent body throbbing weakly at the sight. âY/Nââ
You hum, eyes fluttering shut as if savoring the taste, lips curling into a sinful little smirk.
Mark swears under his breath, his energy draining further, vision blurring at the edgesâbut even now, even exhausted, he canât tear his gaze away.
And all Mark can think is he did that.
He made you feel alright.
He gave you strength again.
Because youâre glowingâgod, youâre glowing.
âY/NâŚâ he breathes, voice trembling. âAre youâare you feeling okay now?â
You hum contentedly, licking the last traces of cum from your fingers with a satisfied sigh. âNever been better.â
Markâs answering smile is drowsy but genuine. âGood. Thatâs... good.â His eyelids flutter despite his best efforts to keep them open.
âMark?â you ask gently, sensing the shift in his bodyâhow it droops, how his muscles go slack.
He blinks at you, slow and owlish, trying to hum an answer. Heâs fighting itâdesperately trying to stay awake, to prove to you that heâs okay. That you donât have to worry. That heâs strong enough to do it again, whenever you need it.
But he canât.
Itâs like trying to fight anesthesiaâhis consciousness slipping despite his will, soft and slow and inevitable.
To his surprise, you donât panic. Instead, a tender smirk curves your lips as you guide his swaying body off of you, helping him roll onto his side so he lands beside you instead of collapsing on top. You tug the sheets over both of you with a quiet, satisfied sigh, then curl around him, limbs tangling comfortably with his.
Mark still has just enough strength to pull you closer, wrapping his arms around you in return.
The very last thing he feels is the soft brush of your lips at the corner of his mouth.
And then, everything fades.
Since that night, nothingâs happened between you again.
The very next morning, you thanked him with a soft kiss to his cheek, all warm affection and casual ease. You seemed energized, almost thriving, while Mark woke up feeling sluggish and tiredâthough nothing serious enough to make either of you worry.
You even laughed when you noticed how drained he was. âIf I tried that with a regular human,â you said thoughtfully, âtheyâd probably drop into a small coma, I think.â
So⌠yeah. Mark had to admit, his Viltrumite heritage did come with some perks beyond just strength.
And for a while, you were fine. More than fine.
Mark watched you through the days, then weeksâhalf expecting you to suddenly corner a random classmate and start making out with them just to feed again. But you didnât. Not once.
Which probably had something to do with the fact that youâd⌠well. Eaten his cum. You mentioned it offhandedly once, saying it gave you an âenergetic bonus,â like it was a protein shake or something. And MarkâMark thought about that for hours. Days, maybe.
Heâd let you do it again in a heartbeat. Every day, if you asked. At any time. Anywhere.
And thatâs the problem.
You havenât asked.
Apparently, whatever you got out of him that night was enough to keep you going for weeks. Which is honestly impressive, considering the two of you didnât even have full-on sex. You just⌠grinded against each other and you gave the worldâs shortest handjobâand he still passed out immediately after like some overwhelmed virgin.
Because, well, he was overwhelmed.
Mark tells himself he needs to work on his stamina. He canât let that happen againânot if he wants to actually get to the next phase with you. Not if he wants to please you, the way you made him feel that night.
But itâs also trueâyou were starving back then. Maybe you pulled more from him than you usually would. Maybe the lust, the arousal, the craving he felt for you gave you a bigger energy hit than either of you realized.
Whatever the reason, ever since he tasted your lips, Markâs been a mess.
The memory of your mouth on his, your body moving against hisâitâs been looping in his head, like some kind of self-inflicted torture. Every brush of your shoulder in the hallway sends sparks racing down his spine. Every laugh, every look, every accidental touch leaves him dizzy and desperate.
But no matter how much heâs burning for it, you havenât brought it up again.
And itâs driving him insane.
Until today.
Today, everything crashes in on him at onceâfinal exams before graduation, the pressure of saving the world, the delicate balancing act of being both Mark Grayson and Invincible. And on top of it all, the world is still feeling the aftermath of his dadâs betrayalâcities still recovering and people still mourning.
Nobodyâs surprised that heâs been... off lately. Tense. Angry all the time.
And today, today, he needs to forget. He needs to focus, needs to scrape his mind back together and make it through these tests. Needs to at least try to get into that stupid university where, in some far-off dream, heâd get to kiss you for the first time all over again.
So it happens that morning.
Youâre standing by your open locker, flipping through your notes with a nervous sort of energyâbrows furrowed, lips pressed together, eyes flicking over the pages like youâre trying to memorize your way out of a breakdown.
Mark drags himself to the locker beside yours, slow and heavy, his limbs weighed down by too many thoughtsâthings he doesnât want to forget and things he wishes he couldnât remember.
Then, his gaze flickersâunconsciously, inevitablyâtoward you.
Mark sees the pinch in your brows, the way your eyes dart over your notes, how your foot taps restlessly against the tile floor. Youâre clearly stressed, just like him. But thatâs not what gets him.
What always gets himâevery damn day, at every damn hourâis your mouth. The shape of your lips. The way your tongue sneaks out to wet them. The soft pink-red shade. The memory of how they felt, how warm they were, how much he wants to kiss them again.
And again.
And again.
âMark?â you ask suddenly, voice cutting through his spiraling thoughts.
He flinches, eyes snapping up from your lips to your eyes.
âY-yeah?â he stammers, cheeks flaring with heat.
You stare at him for a beat too longâhead tilted slightly, brow raised, eyes scanning his face with something unreadable. Then, your nose flares subtly, like you just smelled something... good.
But instead of saying anything, you just shrug and turn back to your locker.
âMan, these exams got me super stressed out,â you say, casually, as if you hadnât just caught him staring like a lovesick fool. âI just want school to be over already.â
Mark exhales, trying to ground himself, shoving thoughts of your lips out of his head. Focus. Focus on the tests. On anything else.
He forces a grin. âTell me about it. Iâve been studying and dreaming about studying. Likeâactual nightmares about textbooks chasing me. Itâs the worst.â
You huff, amused, tossing the last of your things into your locker before checking the time on your phone.
âWe still have time,â you say simply.
Mark grabs a single book and looks at you, hopeful. âWanna keep studying?â
But you snatch the book from his hand and shove it back into his locker, slamming the door shut. Mark blinks, wide-eyed, and barely has time to react before you step inâcloser than closeâclose enough for your breath to ghost against his ear.
Mark goes completely still.
âDonât you wanna do something else?â you whisper, voice a low, teasing purr that sends a sharp shiver down his spine. âLike⌠come with me behind the school. Just us. I can help you unwind. And, yâknowâŚâ
Your fingers trail down his chest slowly, making Mark swallow hard, until your hand finds his wrist and wraps around it, firm and sure.
ââŚIâm feeling kind of hungry.â
You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes gleaming with mischief, a small smirk tugging at your lips like you already know the answer.
And you do.
Mark, predictably, nods dumbly, heart hammering against his ribs.
Your smirk deepens, and without missing a beat, you spin around and tug him along by the wrist. Mark followsâhalf dazed, half panickedâas you lead him somewhere behind the buildings, wherever it is you always take people when youâre like this.
His face burns, pulse racingânot just from anticipation, but from the very public nature of this. People glance your way, eyes trailing from your linked hands to Markâs flushed face, some raising their brows knowingly.
Because you have a reputation.
And when you disappear behind buildings with someone flushed and breathless, it only ever means one thing.
And Markâs flushed and breathless, alrightâpractically being dragged to that one secluded spot you always claim for yourself.
Is this... is this what it is? What he is? Just your new hookup to mess around with?
Noâno. Because unlike the others before him, Markâs your best friend.
You wouldnât just discard him. Right?
Besides, Markâs stronger. Better. He can handle you feeding on him, handle the drain, handle you. Heâs not like the rest. He offered. He wanted this.
You chose him.
Thatâs what he tells himself when you shove him gently against the cold concrete wall behind the school, shadows swallowing you both whole.
You smile at himâsoft, sweetâbefore leaning in and kissing him.
And god, thatâs exactly what heâs been craving since the first time.
Mark melts, instantly, like wax under your touch, his arms sliding around your waist to pull you closer. You fit against him like youâre made for it. Your mouth, your kiss, your tongueâeverything syncs with his like itâs something youâve done a thousand times before. Like itâs natural.
Yet, a treacherous part of Markâs mindâstill conscious, still worriedâwhispers that maybe all the others youâve kissed against these very same walls thought the exact same thing. That they were special. That they could handle you.
Only for you to leave them two weeks later when they couldnât keep up.
And now Markâs heart pounds, not with lustâbut fear.
He has to hold it together. Has to prove himself.
He doesnât want to be another body you use and then forget. Doesnât want to be weakâdoesnât want to collapse every time you touch him.
He wants to be the one you keep coming back to.
And thenâ
Then your hands move down, fingers fumbling with the buckle of his jeans.
And Mark completely loses it.
He tears away from your mouth with a breathy gasp, eyes wide, voice ragged. âY/N?â
You pause, blinking at him, fingers still lightly tugging at his belt. Your expression softensâalmost embarrassed.
âIs this okay?â you ask, voice quiet. âI wanted to⌠suck you off. But I donât know ifââ
You stop yourself, shaking your head like youâre mad for even thinking it. Your fingers begin to retreat, pulling away from his jeans.
âForget it,â you mutter, avoiding his gaze. âWe have exams. Youâre already tired. I donât want to make you worse if Iâugh. Stupid of me. Kisses are fine.â
You lean in again, lips parted, ready to claim his mouth like beforeâbut this time, Mark stops you.
Because the moment the words suck you off left your lips, he stopped hearing anything else.
âYou can,â Mark rasps, voice thick. âI want you to. I can take it.â
You pauseâeyes searching his face, unsure for just a second. But then your nose flares again, catching his scent, and you close your eyes like itâs the best thing youâve ever breathed in.
âFine,â you murmur, voice thick and hazy. âTell me to stop if itâs too much.â
Mark nodsâmore a reflex than a conscious answerâbecause he couldnât form real words even if he tried.
And then, with aching slowness, you sink to your knees in front of him. Your hands move to the waistband of his jeans, careful and deliberate as you tug them down, freeing his straining cock from his underwear.
Markâs hands instinctively fly back, palms splayed flat against the wall as his knees buckle slightly. He needs the support, because if he doesnât hold himself up, heâs sure heâll collapse the moment your mouth touches him.
Your eyes flick up at him, half-lidded and glassy with heat. Then you reach forward and wrap your hot fingers around his cock.
Mark yelps, his whole body jolting, cheeks burning red from the base of his throat to the tips of his ears.
âY/Nââ his voice cracks embarrassingly as his cock twitches in your grip. This canât be real. This canât actually be happening.
You hum approvingly, pumping him slowly once, twice, watching with rapt fascination as a bead of precum wells up at his tip.
âAlready so hard for me,â you muse, thumb swiping through the moisture.
The casual observation makes Markâs head thud back against the wall, a quiet, mortified groan leaving him.
But whatever embarrassment he feels is drowned out by the overwhelming flood of arousal, lust, and whatever else it is you feed on coursing through him.
You probably enjoy itâhow easily he falls apart for you, how effortlessly his body responds, like you donât even have to work for it.
You probably love it. Because then you lean in, face close to his cock, eyes fluttering shut as you inhale deeplyâdrawing in the raw scent of his arousal straight from the source, your warm breath ghosting over the flushed, sensitive tip.
âFuck,â you whisper, pupils blown wide. âYou smell perfect.â
Mark doesnât have the brain to process what that even means, not when the question gets stuck in his throat and dissolves the second your tongue flicks over the tip of his cock.
A choked groan tears from his chest as you start to lick, slow and deliberate, savoring the precum with deep, focused sucks. His knees buckle slightly, and he squeezes his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to ground himself, to focus on anything other than the maddening heat of your mouth.
But itâs impossible.
Youâre shamelessâlicking and sucking him like this is just natural for you, like itâs not embarrassing at all the way itâs mortifying for him. Your tongue moves up and down his shaft in wet, lazy strokes, then circles the head with practiced ease before you suck again, harder this time.
You groan, low and satisfied, and the vibration shoots straight through him.
Mark shudders, his hips jerking slightly, and helpless little sounds tumble out of his mouth before he can even think to swallow them down. And thenâshitâthen your mouth opens wider, lips stretching, tongue curling, and you take more of him in. Inch by inch, hot and wet, deeper and deeper.
Mark nearly loses it right there.
His back slams harder into the wall, his fists curling uselessly at his sides as he fights the urge to completely fall apart. But itâs not because youâre draining himânot yet, at leastâitâs because itâs you.
Y/N. His best friend. The guy heâs been crushing on for way too long. On your knees behind the school, mouth full of him like itâs nothing, like itâs something you want.
Itâs insane. Heâs insane.
Shitâshit.
Mark dares to glance down, eyes wide and glassy with stunned pleasure, needing to see it to believe it.
And the sight nearly breaks him.
You, between his legs, hands steady on his hips, eyes half-lidded with hunger and focus. Your lips, stretched wide and glistening, moving up and down his cock with obscene wet sounds. His shaft gleams with spit and precum, slick and throbbing, disappearing and reappearing between your lips.
He moans again, soft and wrecked, unable to look away.
Meanwhile, youâre letting out soft, muffled sounds around the thick length stuffed in your mouthâlike you really like it. Like youâre losing yourself in the sensation of having Mark buried so deep, your mouth full of him, nose flaring with every push of his hips. The wet, obscene noises echo in the tight space, and your brows furrowânot from discomfort, but something heady, something near-blissful.
Itâs like pleasure for you. Something Mark canât fully grasp, not when you feed off thisâfeed off himâlike this is more than just sex, like itâs sustenance.
Then, on a particularly sharp thrustâMark canât help it, his hips moving on instinctâhis tip hits the back of your throat.
You gag softly, breath hitching, teary eyes snapping open, glassy and dazed.
Mark curses under his breath, panicked, already pulling back, the apology forming fast on his lipsâ
But then you moan.
Loudly. Lewdly. Fingers digging into his hips, dragging him back in.
Mark nearly collapses.
âOhâoh godââ he chokes out, his grip on the wall slipping as his thighs tense.
You donât stopâdonât even slow down. You just suck harder, deeper, hungrier. Mark can feel the heat of your mouth wrapped around every inch of him, and itâs too muchâitâs so much.
âY/N,â he gasps, âGodâIâm gonnaââ
But you donât let go. If anything, your pace quickens, mouth working him with precision and purpose. Markâs knees shake, buckling slightly, and he nearly traps your head between his trembling thighs without meaning to.
âY/Nâfuck, Iâm soâso close!â
You hum again, low and satisfied, like thatâs exactly what you wanted to hear. Like his desperate moans and breathless whines are feeding you, pouring that raw energy straight into your core. And you take it, eyes fluttered shut in bliss, like this is your version of heaven.
âY/Nââ Mark gasps, a final, desperate warning.
But you donât stop. Fierce and hungry, you take him in againâonce.
Twice.
And thatâs all it takes.
Mark comes with a deep, guttural groan, his head thrown back against the wall, hips jerking forward to bury himself to the hilt in the wet heat of your mouth. Hot, bitter release spills from him in thick pulses, straight down your throatâand you gulp it down without hesitation, moaning like itâs the best thing youâve ever tasted.
The sounds you makeâhungry, pleased, possessiveâecho in the tight space, and Markâs entire body trembles under the weight of it all.
His thighs shake violently, straining from the effort to stay standing. His vision flickers at the edges, a burst of white noise flashing across his mind. Heâs faintly aware of the wall at his back, of the air that wonât quite fill his lungs, and the overwhelming, foggy pleasure that steals every coherent thought.
Heâs fine. He tells himself that. He has to be.
Because he wants to prove heâs stronger than the others. That he can take it. That he can give and keep giving if thatâs what you need.
Even as the lightness threatens to pull him under.
But just as his cock begins to soften, your mouth staysâcloses tight around the tip, fingers curling around the base where your lips canât reach. You start stroking again, firm and insistent, while your tongue circles his oversensitive head.
Youâre milking him. Ruthlessly. Determined to get every last drop.
Mark jerks with a sharp cry, the overstimulation sending electricity through his nerves. His hands claw at the wall, legs quaking uncontrollably.
âY/Nââ he breathes, voice high and wrecked, âJesus Christ, thatâsâ! IâI canâtâ!â
And finally, finally, you stop.
You pull off him with a soft gasp, your breath hot and ragged. His cock slips free, flushed and twitching, coated in your spit and whatâs left of his release.
You lick your lips lazily, and smile. That same satisfied, gleaming smile that tells Mark you got exactly what you wanted.
Slowly, you rise to your feet, flushed and glowingâenergized in a way that almost radiates off your skinâwhile Markâs left trembling, still caught in the aftershocks of his high.
âMy god, Mark,â you huff a breathless laugh, eyes sparkling. âThat wasâIâve never felt anything soââ You cut yourself off when you finally take in his stateâthe sweat beading at his temples, the way his chest heaves. Concern flickers across your face. âYou good?â
Mark immediately shakes his head, trying to clear the static clouding his thoughts. âMâfine... Iâm justâoverwhelmed,â he admits, voice hoarse but honest.
You pause, frown flickering briefly across your lips as you glance him over more carefully. Heâs pale. Wobbly. Still fighting to steady his breath. A pang of guilt twists in your chestâmaybe you took too much. Maybe he wasnât ready. Maybe heâs going to drop right here and hit the damn pavement.
But Mark, breathless and clearly drained but stubbornly determined to prove a point, straightens off the wall on shaky legs.
âIâm fine,â he says again, firmer this time. âReally. That wasââ he exhales deeply, a dazed smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, âthat was so good.â
Your face lights up again, the concern replaced by a beaming grin. âDamn right it was! Mark, you taste amazing. Iâve never tasted so muchâfuck, I didnât think Iâd ever get to have that much cum,â you ramble, fast and thrilled, practically buzzing with glee. âIt energizes me so much, likeâJesus, I could live off you... Do you need help with that?â
You gesture toward his pants, still hanging open. Mark blinks, dazed and stunned by your casually filthy words, but still gives a small nod.
You hum, pleased, as you crouch slightly to tug his jeans back up, fingers moving with practiced care. You even take your sweet time buckling his belt again, still grinning to yourself like this is the best thing thatâs happened all week.
Meanwhile, Mark struggles to steady his breathing, eyes half-lidded as he watches your every movement. He savors the careful way you straighten his clothes, tugging his shirt down gently before reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his damp forehead.
His breath catches when your palm lingers against his cheek.
âYou okay?â you ask again, softly, trying to sound seriousâbut the buzz of energy beneath your skin, the high of feeding, makes your voice a little too bright.
Mark smiles, slow and fond. âAmazing.â
âYouâre not, like⌠out of it, are you?â you press, brows furrowed. âStill with me?â
He lifts his hand to cover yours, holding it against his cheek as he leans into your touch like he never wants you to let go.
âIâm fine,â he murmurs. âBetter than fine. I actually feelâŚâ He trails off, searching for the right words. Thereâs some drowsiness, sure, but itâs the good kind. âRelaxed. Likeâreally relaxed. Not anxious anymore.â
Your smirk is immediate, the faintest blush touching your cheeks. You look so aliveâflushed and glowing, like the fatigue Mark had always assumed was your default had never really belonged to you. For months, he thought you were just⌠exhausted all the time. Turns out, you were starving.
âGood,â you say, lacing your fingers through his. The contact sends a fresh spark along Markâs nerves. âCome onâweâve still got time to meet up with William, Eve, and Amber. We can cram together before the test.â
Mark stumbles after you, legs still shaky, cheeks still burning, head still in a hazeâbut for entirely new reasons. The memory of your mouth on him lingers like a brand, and the knowledge that he alone can sustain you without breaking sends a possessive thrill through his veins.
Heâll be ready whenever you need him again.
When you need him again, Markâs in the middle of arranging his things at the Upstate U dorms.
Heâs been trying not to sulk about the dorm assignments. Really. Itâs fine that youâre rooming with some random guy instead of him. Totally fine. And hey, itâs not all bad. Heâs rooming with William, and youâre only three doors down.
However, when heâs strolling back with his Seance Dog action figure on hand, he spots itâthe damn sock on the doorknob. The one William had declared as their âdo not disturbâ signal. Mark freezes, then groans loudly enough that a passing freshman gives him a weirded out stare.
Rolling his eyes, Mark turns on his heel and makes a beeline for your door instead. No knock. No warning. He just pushes it open like itâs a completely normal thing to do.
Youâre in the middle of unpacking, back to the door, bent slightly as you shove clothes into your half of the closet.
âWilliamâs having sex,â Mark grumbles as his greeting, shutting the door behind him.
You let out a startled laugh, glancing over your shoulder. âAlready? Itâs literally the first day of college.â
âRight?!â Mark perks up, pointing at you like heâs just been seen. âI was thinking the exact same thing! Who even has sex on the first day of college? I havenât even finished unpacking.â
You snort again, amused, and turn back to your stuff. âSucks for you,â you say with a teasing smirk. âBut since youâre here, wanna help me put my stuff away?â
Markâs shoulders sag dramatically as his eyes sweep over the roomâhalf-open boxes everywhere, clothes spilling out, chaos even worse than his own side of the dorm. âAw, man.â
âYou chose to come here, Mark,â you say with a grin, reaching out and grabbing his wrist, pulling him toward the mountain of chaos you call your stuff. âNow suffer the consequences.â
Mark lets out a dramatic sigh as he lets you tug him along, but his protests are half-hearted at best. He grumbles the entire timeâloudly and performativelyâbut never actually stops helping. He jokes through it, snickers when he finds weird stuff in your boxes, and keeps rearranging things the way he thinks they should go, just to mess with you.
He doesnât really mind. In fact, Mark loves itâbeing near you, touching your things, asking dumb questions just to hear you talk. Every little trinket you pull out is a new excuse to stay a little longer.
By the time the bed is made, your desk is mostly arranged, and the floor is walkable again, Mark flops down face-first onto your mattress with a dramatic sigh. He rolls over onto his back, one arm slung lazily across his chest, and watches you fiddle with the last few decorations on your desk.
âWhatâs up with that thing?â he asks, nodding at a pretty trinket youâre setting in the corner. âLooks ancient.â
You glance over your shoulder, then shrug. âOh, this? Just a stupid family relic. Supposed to bring me good luck or something.â
Mark pushes himself up on one elbow. âFamily relic?â
âYeah!â you nod brightlyâthen pause, eyes flicking to him with a slightly sheepish look. âYâknow. That side of the family, if you get me.â
That perks Mark right up. You rarely mention your incubus lineage, let alone the mysterious relatives who share it.
âDoes it actually work?â he asks, genuinely intrigued. âThe luck thing, I mean.â
You chuckle, fingers brushing over the trinket. âSure it works.â
Mark straightens completely, eyes wide and full of wonder. âReally? How?â
You turn to him slowly, expression softening into something warm and deeply fond. Then you rise from the chair, walk over, and drop down beside him, the mattress dipping under your weight. You donât say anything at first, just smile as your hand reaches up, tenderly cradling his cheek.
Markâs breath catches.
âWell,â you murmur, thumb brushing lightly over his skin, âI met you, didnât I.â
And Markâs heart justâmelts. Thereâs no other word for it. It swells in his chest and bursts behind his ribs like a supernova, a rush of feelings he doesnât bother to hide.
Then he leans into your touch without thinking, eyes fluttering for half a second. âIt must work both ways, then,â he says, voice barely above a whisper.
You laugh gentlyâand god, he loves that sound. It lights up your whole face. Thereâs something about it, that laugh, that smile, like it always bubbles out of you before you can stop it. Like you canât help but be happy in his presence.
Mark watches you, eyes soft, his heart thudding like itâs trying to tell him somethingâlike this is the moment. His hand is a little clammy against the blanket. Heâs thinking about kissing you. Really kissing you.
But he doesnât.
Because the truth is, aside from those two times you fed off him, you never actually kissed. Not once. And not because you didnât want toâbut because if you werenât hungry, if there was no need to satiate that part of you, neither of you ever crossed that line.
Still, you liked touching him. You liked brushing shoulders when you walked together. Liked laying your head on his shoulder during long movies. When you visited his house, you liked sneaking into his bed just to nap togetherâcurled into him like you belonged there.
Mark misses your lips. But if you werenât hungryâif you didnât have to feedâthen both of you stayed in your safe little bubble.
Would it be weird if Mark kissed you right now?
Would you think heâs being a weird friend?
Mark doesnât know where the two of you stand. Yeahâyouâve grinded against each other, youâve sucked him off behind the school. But what did it mean? Just a way for you to feed yourself? Or did it mean more?
Did he mean more?
Mark canât tell. Isnât sure.
But when you look at him like thisâall soft eyes, quiet smiles, that unshakable tenderness lighting up your whole faceâMark lets himself wonder. Can he believe for even a second that you feel the same way he does?
Can he kiss you?
âYou can,â you whisper, soft as a secret.
Mark freezes.
Eyes widen just a little in surprise. For a moment, he thinks maybe you read his mindâbut then he realizesâŚ
He said that out loud.
And you said yes.
ââŚReally?â he asks, heart in his throat.
You laugh, soft and fond, thumb brushing along his jaw. With the same hand still cradling his face, you guide him closer, slowly, until your lips almost touch. âReally.â
Mark closes the distance.
He kisses you.
Not like before. Not the frantic, life-sustaining kisses youâd taken from him. This is something softer. Something given.
His heart races, hand rising to cup the curve of your cheek, thumb brushing your skin as he closes his eyes, savoring the softness, the warmth, trying to burn the sensation into his memory, into his very flesh.
You sigh softly, lips parting slowly as you deepen the kiss. Mark holds back a groan, turning it into a breathy gasp instead, his tongue meeting yours with a shy hesitation. He tastes the faint hint of chocolate from the snack youâd eaten earlier while taking a break from unpacking. Unable to resist, he gently sucks on your tongue, and you shudder against him, a soft moan slipping free.
God, Mark loved it. Loves it. Couldnât get enough. Wanted thisâwanted youâforever.
He tilts his head, deepening the kiss further, teeth catching on your bottom lip in a playful bite. One hand sneaks around your lower back, pulling you closerâ
Then someone knocks on the door.
You freeze against each other, lips still brushing as you pull apart just enough to share a wide-eyed look. Your cheeks are flushed, your breathing unevenâbeautiful, Mark thinks, already mourning the loss.
âProbably my roommate,â you murmur, catching your breath as the knocking comes again. âIâll check.â
Mark pouts, reluctant to let go, but quickly squares his jaw and puts on his best tough-guy face. If this is your roommate, then heâs definitely marking his territory. No oneâs stealing his best friend.
You give him a faint, sheepish smile when he slides a protective arm around your waist, and then you reach for the door handle.
But the second it swings open, you both freeze again.
Right there, in the hallway, is fucking Seance Dog in the flesh.
Mark reacts immediately, stepping between you and the bizarre cloaked figure before him, grabbing its body. âWho the hell are youâ?â
The creatureâSeance Dogâlaunches into a rambling explanation, but Mark barely registers it. His attention is locked on the hallway beyond the open door, where students pass by, oblivious.
You spin on your heel, eyes wide, rushing to the window. âGo! Iâll find backup!â
Turns out âbackupâ is William, who stumbles after you through the wooded edge of campus, half out of breath and half-convinced this is some elaborate prank, while you yell, âYes, the Seance Dog! No, I donât mean cosplay!â
When you both catch up, Mark is standing in a clearing, arms crossed, face tight with frustration. Mark turns when he hears your voice and immediately starts explainingâThraxa, billions of people in danger, yada, yada. Itâs all so sudden, and he watches you both closely as the explanation sinks in.
William nods along, immediately agreeing. âDude, you have to go. Weâre talking, what, forty-two billion lives?â
Mark flinches, glancing toward you, searching your expression. You havenât said anything yet. Arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
You finally speak. âForâfor how long again?â
Mark hesitates, his heart thumping. âJustâjust a few weeks. Give or take.â He turns to the bug alien. âRight? A few galaxies away?â
The bug alien nods solemnly.
Mark looks at you again, eyes quietly pleading. He wants you to say no. He hasnât even had his first class yet. You kissed, for real, for the first time not even an hour ago, and now heâs supposed to justâŚleave?
If you said no, he wouldnât go. Not for anything.
You fold your arms, brow furrowed in deep thought. âI mean⌠if weâre talking about that many people⌠and he came from so far just for you, thenâŚâ
You trail off.
Markâs heart sinks. He wants to help, reallyâbut he also wants to stay. Wants to start this new chapter with you, complain about professors together, compare how bad the cafeteria food is, sit next to you in class and whisper jokes under his breath just to make you snort.
Andâand he hadnât even fed you properly. Not really. Not the way you needed. Not the way he wanted to.
But then your eyes meet his again, steady and sure despite the tightness in your jaw, and you nod. ââŚThen I guess you should go.â
And thatâs it.
He suits up. The blue and yellow slide over his body like second skin, and Nuolzot is already gesturing toward the sky, to the ship hovering in low orbit.
But Mark pauses. He turns back to you. In two steps, heâs standing in front of you again, gloved hands rising to cradle your face.
âA month,â he says, voice rough with emotion. âA month tops. I swear Iâll be back before you even notice.â
You smile, but it doesnât quite reach your eyes. âAlright, Invincible,â you say, trying for playful. âGo save that planet. Come back before you flunk out before classes even start.â
That makes him laugh, breathlessâand then his eyes drop to your lips.
And he kisses you before he can second-guess himself again.
Your mouth meets his instantly, warm and sure, like youâre afraid this will be the last time you get to feel him like this.
When you part, breathless and close, Mark wants to say it. The words burn on his tongue.
I love you.
But he doesnât.
Instead, he chuckles awkwardly, as if laughter might hide the way the words nearly slipped out.
âAlright,â he murmurs. âSee you soon.â
And then, without waiting another second, he shoots up into the sky, trailing after Nuolzot and leaving the groundâand youâbehind.
Williamâs voice echoes upward. âWait, wait, waitâsince when are you two together!? I need details!â
Mark doesnât look back.
If he had, he might have seen the way your smile faltered the moment he turned away.
Mark returns to Earth two months laterâtwice the time he promised you. And somehow, thatâs the part he canât stop thinking about.
He should be happy to be home. Should be focused on the fact that heâs safe, alive. And still, a small part of him is terrified. Terrified that youâve moved on. That in the time he was off-planet, you got bored of waiting, maybe met someone newâsomeone who actually stuck around like they said they would.
So he doesnât go to you. Not right away. Not even when every fiber in his body aches to.
First, he goes home. He sees his momâbecause of course he does. She needs to know heâs alive. That heâs okay. That heâs now the older brother to a half-bug alien baby. He spends time there, takes his time, and tells her everything.
And then, finally, he makes his way to Upstate U.
Now he has to see youâhas to face whatever version of you he left behind. The one who might hate him, or worse⌠be totally fine without him.
He stops by his dorm first, quickly changing out of his suit and into something more casual. The more he thinks about you, the tighter his stomach clenches with anxiety.
When William remarks, âYou were gone a long time, like forever in college years,â it feels like salt in the wound.
Mark winces, tugging his shirt over his head. âYeah. I know.â
Surely youâre upset.
If not upset, then⌠indifferent.
And Mark honestly canât decide which would hurt more.
Still, thereâs something bubbling in his chestânerves, maybe. But also that warm, fluttery anticipation he always gets when heâs about to see you. God, he missed you so damn much. Thought about you more times than he can count while everything around him fell apart in space.
So he throws on clean clothes, rakes a hand through his hair, and takes a deep breath to ease his nerves.
âWait, where are you going?â William asks as Mark heads for the door.
âY/Nâs room?â Mark says it like itâs obvious. Because it is. Youâre three doors down. Three doors heâs been counting since he landed.
Williamâs expression shifts. âOh. Uh. Y/Nâs not here.â
Mark freezes. âWhat?â
âWent home two weeks ago. Medical leave.â
The words hit like a punch to the gut. âMedical leave?â Markâs voice cracks. âWhat happened?â
William shrugs helplessly. âNo clue. Heâs been sick for weeks though. Like, really sick.â
Markâs mouth goes dry. His pulse spikes.
Sick?
Sick?
His thoughts spiralâthere are only a few things he can think of that would make you sick. And none of them make sense. None of them feel random. Not for you. Not with what you are.
âWhatâwhat kind of sick?â Mark demands, already striding back into his dorm room, his voice tight, too fast. âLike a cold? Stress?â
But he already knows.
God, he doesnât want to, but the truth is already clawing up the back of his throat. Gnawing at his brain like it wants him to panic.
William frowns, thrown by the sudden shift. âI donât know the full details, man. He just said he was feeling weak⌠too tired to even make it to class. He even passed out onceâthatâs why he asked for the medical leave.â Williamâs tone is a mix of concern and confusion. âSomething about malnutrition or whatever, which is weird, right? I mean, he usually eats enough for twentyâhey. Hey, where the hell are you going?â
Mark is already halfway out the window.
âWhere do you think?â he snaps, voice cracking with the edge of panic. âIâm going to see him!â
And then heâs gone.
The wind tears through the dorm behind him as he rockets into the sky, leaving William shouting something he doesnât hear.
Mark doesnât care. He canât. Not now. Not when all he can think about is getting to you.
So he pushes himself fasterâfaster than heâs flown in weeks. His hands clench and unclench in the air, sweat slicking his palms, speeding toward your home.
He arrives within minutes, and in those minutes, his brain spins through every worst-case scenario imaginable. Why are you even sick? Whyâd you stop feeding? You need it to survive. Thatâs what you told him. So why? Why would you stop? It makes no sense.
Why the hell would you let yourself waste away?
Mark doesnât bother with the front door. Not when your bedroom window is right thereâalways open. Always left unlocked. For him.
Mark flies up to it without thinking, presses against the glass, peering inside. Itâs dim and quiet. Then his eyes dart to your bedârumpled sheets, blanket kicked off, and you curled up there, too still, too pale. His chest seizes.
âY/N?â he calls, voice uncertainâlike heâs afraid to startle you.
You donât answer.
Mark climbs through the window on shaky feet, moving to your side with heart pounding. His hand hovers before gently settling on your shoulder.
âY/N,â he says, lower now. âHey. Itâs me. I came back.â
No answer.
His eyes scan you closerâthe dullness in your skin, the dark shadows beneath your eyes, the faint sheen of sweat on your forehead, your cracked lips, the sunken look in your face.
Markâs heart drops. His grip tightens on your shoulder, and he gives you a soft shake, panic bleeding into every movement.
âY/N, please.â
Thenâfinallyâyou stir.
A soft, low hum escapes your throat. Your face scrunches weakly, like even blinking takes effort, and you crack one eye open, confused and half-dazed.
Mark lets out a shuddering breath, part relief, part fear, and drops to his knees beside the bed.
âOh thank god,â he breathes out, his voice cracking, reaching up to cup your cheek gently. âHey. Iâm here. Iâm here, okay?
ââŚMarkâŚ?â you slur, voice cracked and barely a whisper.
Mark leans in immediately, heart racing, face just inches from yours. âYeah, yeahâitâs me! Are you okay? Y/N, whatâs going on?â
You blink slowly, trying to will your eyes to stay open. Then, with some effort, you shift on the bed, uncurling from yourself like a bear out of hibernationâsluggish and disoriented. You squint at him, dazed. âMark, hey.â A weak cough follows, your throat dry and raw. âHowâre you doing? Itâs been so long.â
The casual way you say itâlike youâre not on the edge of passing out on your own bedâshatters Mark all over again.
âY/NâŚâ Mark says, voice thick with disbelief, worry pulling hard at his face. âForget about meâwhat happened to you? You lookâŚâ
He trails off, unable to say it, but his expression says enough. His eyes, wide and glassy, trace every hollowed detail in your face.
âOh,â you exhale, trying to play it down. âItâs fine. Iâve just been⌠a little weak, is all.â
âA little weak?â Mark repeats, voice rising in disbelief. âYouâre not a little weak, Y/N. YouâreâGod, William said youâve been like this for weeks.â
You grimace, trying to smile through it, to keep him from worrying. But Mark sees right through the act. He watches, helpless, as you try to sit up, bracing yourself on trembling elbowsâonly for your arms to give out, your head dropping back to the pillow with a soft thud.
Mark stands and shifts to sit on the edge of your mattress, hands settling gently on your shoulders like heâs afraid youâll slip away if he lets go.
âHeyâhey, donât push yourself,â he says, voice low but firm. âJustâjust stay still, okay?â
You donât resist. Couldnât even if you wanted to. You simply lie there, head sunk into your pillow, eyes barely open. Youâre too tired to argue, too tired to even pretend youâre okay. Your breathing stays shallow, lips cracked, face drained of color.
Markâs chest tightens. He watches you for a second that feels like forever before finally breaking the silence. âWhat happened, Y/N?â he asks, even though deep down, he already knows. He just needs to hear you say it. âWhat is it?â
You make a face, like thereâs a million things you could sayâbut none of them are enough. Still, you force your lips to part.
âItâs justââ your voice wavers, then you let out a breath, helpless. âI havenât fed off⌠you knowâŚâ
Markâs brows draw together, his lips pressing into a tight, thin line.
You donât look at him when you admit itâvoice barely above a whisper. âNot since you left.â
Thereâs silence. A thick, awful silence.
Mark flinches like the words hit him in the chest. His heart starts pounding again, harder this time. âWhy didnât you go to someone else, Y/N?â he blurtsâtoo sharp, too panicked. It comes out like an accusation, and he instantly regrets it.
You flinch too, like the words cut deeper than he meant. You look away, your features tight, skin grayed with exhaustion, eyes watery and dull. ââŚShould I have?â you ask, small and fragile.
And the answer is obvious. So obvious it makes Mark feel like a damn idiot for even saying anything.
No.
No.
Mark exhales shakily, one hand moving to cradle your cheek as he leans down, his forehead pressing gently to yours.
âNo,â he whispers, voice thick. âOf course not.â
Only him. Youâd only ever wanted him.
And godâgodâisnât that selfish of him, when your life was literally on the line?
But you smile. Itâs small and tiredâdrained, reallyâbut itâs a smile all the same. Like those words were exactly what you needed to hear. Like there was no one else you wanted to feed from anymore but Mark.
You tilt your head up, lips brushing his in a soft exhale. âThen⌠kiss me.â
Mark doesnât hesitate. He bridges the last inch between you the second the words leave your mouth, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss thatâs soft, carefulâdesperate in all the ways he wonât admit out loud. Your sigh against him is so content, so relieved, it almost brings tears to his eyes.
He kisses you like heâs trying to make up for every lonely day he was gone.
His hand slides to your jaw, tilting it gently, thumb stroking your cheek as he deepens the kiss. His heart stutters at the way your body slowly starts to respondâweak, yes, but responding. When his lips part yours and your tongues meet, Mark groans softly into your mouth, heat coiling low in his gut.
He doesnât rush, but the rhythm quickens just a beat. Enough to let himself feel your breath grow steadier against him, the slight tremble in your limbs easing, pulse pushing just a little stronger beneath your skin.
ThenâGod, your hands. They reach for him, still shaking, but purposeful. Fingers gliding up his chest, slow and searching, until they hook around his neck and pull him closer.
Mark obliges without hesitation, his other arm sliding beneath you to lift you gently against him. He feels your grip strengthen with each passing second, your kisses growing more urgent. And when you finally arch into him with a reawakened hunger, Mark knows heâll give you everything.
Again and again and again.
The kiss breaks with a soft, wet sound, your shared breaths mingling in the thin space between you.
âOh, Mark,â you whisper, voice rough and shaky, âI missed you.â
You look better alreadyâcheeks touched with color, eyes less glassy. But itâs still not enough. Not even close.
Thereâs still tension in your brow, a strain in the way you lie beneath him, like it hurts to be hungry and still not full. Veins faintly shadow your temple. The dark bruises beneath your eyes havenât faded. And the way your tongue drags across your lipsâitâs need, raw and unfiltered.
âMissed you too,â he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. âIâm so sorry.â
He knows one kiss wonât fix this. He knows better than to think youâd recover after just a moment of closeness. Itâs been two months. Two months without feeding. Without touching. Without even knowing if he was coming back.
You needed more. Needed more than friction, more than mouth and tongue. You probably needed more than just getting him off like the last timesâwhere you fed and then let him go, always asking for nothing in return.
You probably needed the real thing.
Markâs throat tightens.
âIâm gonnaââ he starts, breathless, almost shy, ââgonna make you feel good, okay?â
His hand trails lower, until it cups the heat between your legs, the bulge already thick and straining through your sweatpants. He squeezes, just enough to make you gasp, and the soft whine you let out snaps something in him.
Because for the first time, Mark thinks about it.
Youâve made him comeâtwice now. And afterward, heâd always been so wrapped up in his own high, in the rush of it, the haze, the way you looked so content with just tasting him... he never stopped to reciprocate the favor.
God, heâs been so selfish.
Markâs throat bobs as his hand strokes you again, this time with more purposeâhis thumb grazing the sensitive head through the fabric of your sweatpants. You keep making those greedy little sounds, soft and needy, and right then Mark decidesâheâs going to make you fall apart under him. Heâs going to make you shiver and whimper his name as you come undone.
âMark,â you sigh, arching against his hand. âOh, Mark.â
He picks up the pace, leaning in to capture every gasp and whimper straight from your mouth. Your tongues meet againâhungry and messyâas Mark begins grinding against you, his own arousal building, knowing you can feel it, feed off it, and revel in it.
It doesnât take long for the pressure in his jeans to become unbearableâhis cock straining hard against the fabric, pulsing with every beat of his heart. He canât take it anymore. Canât wait. And besides, thisâthisâis the fastest way to get you back on your feet, glowing with strength.
He pulls away from your lips just enough to murmur, âLet me,â breathless, fingers already hooking into your waistband. âLet me take care of you.â
Your soft, desperate moan is all the permission he needs.
With trembling hands, Mark peels down your sweatpants and underwear in one fluid motion, careful as he slides them past your legs. You shudder at the exposure, but you donât hideâyou open your legs willingly, inviting him in. Your face is flushed, the color blooming down your neck and ears. Itâs the first time youâve ever been this vulnerable with someone. And from the look in your eyes, youâre glad itâs Mark.
He drinks in the sight of you, chest heaving. Then, in one smooth motion, he strips off his shirt and tosses it aside, eyes never leaving you.
âShitâŚâ You bite your lip, but thereâs a glint in your eyesâa flash of mischief under all that exhaustion. âYouâre so sexy, Mark.â
Mark flushes, his skin warming as your hands roam his chest, greedy and sure, fingers tracing over muscles that flex and shudder under your touch. Itâs too muchâalmost overwhelmingâand he has to brace himself, hands planted on either side of your head to keep from collapsing on top of you.
âFuckââ His hips jerk involuntarily when your hand travels lower, undoing his belt, pulling the zipper down. âY/NâŚâ
You breathe out a needy sound when his cock springs free, hand wrapping around him without hesitation.
âJesus,â you murmur hoarsely, licking your lips. âIâm soâso hungry, Mark. I canât wait.â
Mark moans at the sight of you, the desperation in your voice making his head spin. âYeah?â
âYeah.â You stroke him with trembling fingers, and Markâs hips move in time with your touch, his breath growing ragged. âYeah. Fuck. Iâve beenâstarving for you.â
Mark groans, eyes fluttering shut for a moment, undone by the way your fingers work himâconfident, greedy, like you need him. And yeah, you do. He knows what his pleasure does to you. Knows how his arousal, his moans, even the steady pulse of precum leaking from his tipâslicking your fingersâis what makes you stronger. What feeds you.
But itâs not enough.
He wants to see you come for once. Wants to hear you gasp and writhe because heâs making you feel good.
âCan IâŚ?â he breathes, eyes locked on yours, his voice tight with restraint. âCan I fuck you?â
Your hand slows, eyes going wide, startled by the questionâbut then you smile, soft and full of something like fondness.
âYes,â you whisper after a moment. âOf course.â
Mark exhales like heâs been holding his breath for months, pressing his forehead against yours. When his lips find yours again, the kiss turns desperateâall teeth and tongue and months of pent-up longing. You meet him with equal fervor, legs parting instinctively as his hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him.
âShould Iââ Mark gasps between kisses, his voice thick with both desire and hesitation. âShould I prep you orââ
âNo.â The word comes out sharper than intended, your fingers digging into his shoulders. âIâm not some fragile human who needs coddling. Just fuck me, Mark.â
Thereâs something feral in your voice nowâprimal and wild in a way heâs never heard from you. The more energy floods your system, a spark of life returning to your features, the more your instincts take over.
âOkay,â he rasps, more to himself than you. âOkay, justââ
Mark swallows hard, his gaze trailing down your body with a mix of awe and nervous hunger. His breath catches at the sight of your cock straining between you, at the way your hole flutters impatiently.
His eyes dropâslowly, hungrilyâtrailing down your body, pausing at the sight of your flushed cock, your spread legs, your willing entrance. He swallows thickly, breath catching in his throat.
âItâs fine,â you whisper, voice softening just enough as your hand continues to stroke him, thumb grazing the sensitive head, coaxing more precum from his tip. âIâll guide you.â
And guide him you do.
You pump him a few more times, slicking him up while he groans, every sigh vibrating against your lips. Then you part your legs even further, just enough for his hips to fit between them snugly. One hand steadies his cock, the other resting on his hip as you line him up, brushing the tip against your entrance.
âJust like that,â you sigh, arching beneath him. âPush, Mark. Please.â
Markâs hips stutter, his cock sliding between your cheeks with desperate, jerky movements. Heâs achingly hard, every nerve alight with need.
âIs thisââ His voice cracks as the head of his cock catches at your entrance. âGod, Y/Nâis this okay?â
Your answer comes with a whimper, head tipping back against the pillows. âYes. Fuck me. I want you.â
Markâs hips stutter, and then your legs hook around his waist, pulling him inâforcing him deeper.
âFuckââ he chokes out, voice tight.
The head of his cock sinks into you, your body welcoming him in a slick, hot pull that makes both of you moan, trembling against each other.
âYesââ you gasp, fingers curling against his back. âPush, Mark. I donât care. Just do it.â
Mark bites down on his lip, squeezes his eyes shut, and pushes.
The glide is smooth, easyâthanks to the slick layer of precum and your guiding hands. He shudders all the way in, your body stretching to take him, tight and perfect around him. You groan, hands digging into his back as if to hold him there forever.
âYes, yes,â you moan, eyes fluttering shut. âFuck, Mark, yes.â
For a suspended moment, when heâs fully buried inside you, all Mark can do is feelâthe way you pulse around him, the desperate clutch of your hands on his back, the dizzying realization that this is happening.
He barely remembers how to breathe, barely manages to stay upright with how shaky his arms feel braced on either side of your head. His whole body is tremblingâand maybe itâs not just the exhaustion from space. Maybe itâs not just the days without sleep, or the long journey back.
Maybe itâs you. Draining him with every moan, every squeeze, every drop of arousal he gives you.
And stillâstillâhe doesnât want to stop.
âMove,â you order, voice low and hushed.
Then you move beneath him firstâhips grinding upward, taking him in deeperâand all of Markâs coherent thought shatters.
âHarder,â you gasp, nails scoring down his back. âPleaseââ
Mark obeys with a broken moan, thrusting out and back in, out and in again. The pace he sets is clumsy and frantic, but it doesnât matterâbecause you love it. You moan louder with every stroke, squirming beneath him, nails digging into his back, dragging down hard.
âSo good,â you sigh, head tipping back as pleasure ripples through you. âGod, Markâso good.â
The room fills with the slap of skin on skin, the choked-off noises Mark makes when you clench around him, the way your shared breaths grow ragged and uneven.
Mark buries his face in the curve of your neck, teeth scraping against your pulse point as his muscles tremble with exertion. Thereâs a familiar tug at his consciousness, a slow drain of energy that should terrify him but instead sends a thrill down his spine.
Because when you moan in his ear like that, when you shiver around him, when you praise him in that wrecked voiceâ
âLike that.â Unsteady but sure. âJust like that.â
Mark couldnât stop if he tried.
The renewed vigor in your movementsâthe way your fingers clutch at him with renewed strengthâtells him itâs working. Youâre coming back to life beneath him, flush with stolen energy, even as his own vision starts to blur at the edges.
âDonât stop,â you beg, voice wrecked.
Mark doesnât. Not when you feel this good around himâhot and tight and his.
So he fucks you through it, chasing your pleasure even as his body screams for respite, determined to give you every last drop until youâre sated.
Until youâre whole again.
Then Markâs thrusts begin to falterâhis rhythm stuttering, teeth sinking into your shoulderâ and he gasps, voice wrecked and shaking, âIâm gonnaâIâm gonna comeâ!â
You groan, biting your lower lip hard enough to sting.
âCome inside me,â you moanâhalf-whimper, half-command. âIâm so fucking close. I want you inside.â
Mark whimpers at your words, hips jerking wildly now, erratic and desperate. The thought of finishing inside you scrambles whateverâs left of his composure.
âY/Nââ he chokes out, barely audible. âIâmâIâm comingââ
And then he does.
His entire body goes taut, trembling, his hips giving one final, deep thrust that buries him to the hilt. His orgasm hits like a wave, a raw, broken cry torn from his throat as he spills into you, thick and hot. You arch beneath him, eyes fluttering shut, a moan clawing out of you as you feel itâevery pulse, every drop filling you.
Itâs thatâthe heat of his cum flooding you, the sheer intensity of his releaseâthat finally pushes you over the edge.
You come untouched, back arching off the bed, spilling hot across your stomach as you cry out his name.
âFuck, fuck,â you babble, shuddering. âFuck, Markââ
Heâs still moving, just barelyâhis hips twitching in helpless, involuntary thrusts as he rides out every last wave of his orgasm, cum leaking from the edges of your hole. Itâs messy. Itâs perfect. Itâs so good it makes you smile through the aftershocks, warmth blooming in your chest with every stolen breath.
âFuck,â Mark sobs, forehead dropping against your shoulder, gasping like he canât breathe. âMy godâŚâ
His muscles spasmâthighs trembling, arms shaky and weakâand finally give out. With a groan, Mark collapses on top of you. You huff out a breath, wrapping your arms around him, a soft, breathless laugh escaping your lips.
âMark,â you whisper, voice soaked in satisfaction. âYou good?â
He doesnât answer. His face is still buried in your neck, breath warm and erratic against your oversensitive skin. He wants to answer, to lift his head and kiss you��because God, you felt so good, because you made him feel incredible, and for once, he knows he made you feel good, too.
But he canât.
His limbs feel like theyâve turned to stone. Not just his head, not just his armsâeverything. The weight of exhaustion hits him all at once like gravityâs been waiting for its moment to strike. The fatigue heâs been running from all this time finally catches up, drained utterly by you. He blinks, trying to fight it off, but itâs useless.
âMark?â Thereâs concern edging your voice now, even as your fingers continue their soothing motions along his spine. âMark.â
Youâre warm, energizedâglowing with renewed strengthâand that, at least, feels like a win. He tries to respond, but the only sound that escapes is a slurred, âHnng?â
Sleep is pulling him under fast. Even your voiceâthe one thing he wants to hearâis fading, like itâs coming from another room, another world.
You shake him once. Then again. But heâs already slipping, the darkness too heavy, too deep.
The last thing heâs aware of is the way his cock still twitches inside you, the way your thighs tighten reflexively around his hips, and the way you keep whispering his nameâlike a lullaby echoing in his ears.
If this is how he goes out, Mark thinks dimly as darkness claims him, itâs one hell of a way to go.
When Mark wakes up, heâs curled around a pillow that smells like you, drooling on it like a damn baby.
He blinks, sluggish and unfocused, head heavy, limbs like lead. His whole body achesânot in a bad way, just in that spent, used-up kind of way. He feels wrung out and dazed. Did he not die?
Groaning, Mark pushes himself up onto his elbows, muscles trembling under his own weight. He glances around, eyes squinting as the pieces slowly fall into place: the decorations on the walls, clothes scattered on the floor, sheets half-draped over his bare body. He recognizes all of it.
And when he hears your faint humming from somewhere beyond the door, it all crashes back.
Oh. He had sex with you. Likeâreal sex. And somehow, he lived to tell the tale.
His eyes widen as reality slams into him. He jolts upright on your bedâyour bedâheart pounding. Shit, did he pass out? How long has it been? What day is it? What year is it? He feels like heâs been out for decades, and yet somehow still not enough to shake the heavy fog pressing on his consciousness.
Then your humming gets louder. He snaps his head toward the door just in time to see it swing openâand there you are.
You spot him, freeze mid-step, and for a split second, the whole room holds its breath.
Markâs dry lips part. âY/Nââ
âMark!â you gasp, face lighting up with a wide grin. âYouâre awake! Oh, thank god!â
You cross the room in three eager strides, arms open, all warmth and affection. You throw yourself into him without hesitation.
Mark lets out a soft oof as he catches you, the momentum knocking him flat on his back again. The room spins briefly, but the second he registers the weight of you on his chest, the warmth of your skin, the sound of your voiceâhe relaxes. He smiles, soft and dopey, and buries his face into your shoulder, breathing you in like heâs never been more grateful to be alive.
âHey,â Mark greets, voice hoarse but tinged with amusement. âHow long was I out?â
You donât answer right away. Instead, you press your face into his chest and hold him tightâlike if you let go, he might vanish. Then, after a long moment, you pull back. But instead of replying, you cup his cheeks with both hands and kiss him.
Mark melts into it without hesitation, hands sliding to your waist, holding you close. He sighs against your lips, groaning softly as he kisses you back like itâs the only thing keeping him awake.
When you break apart, your smile lingers, bright and full of affection. âI was worried you wouldnât wake up for at least a week,â you murmur, thumb brushing gently over his cheekbone. âMost humans wouldnât. But youâitâs only been, like, sixteen hours.â
Mark jerks upright so fast he nearly headbutts you. âSixteen hours?!â
You wince, guilt flashing across your face. âY-Yeah. ButâI called your mom! I didnât exactly explain, but she knows youâre here. She told me to make sure you call her as soon as youâre up.â
Mark exhales, half in disbelief, half in relief. âJesus. I didnât think Iâd be out that long.â
ââŚIâm sorry,â you whisper, glancing away. âI shouldnât have pushed you like that. I didnât thinkâI shouldnât have risked your life just to feed. Just toâbe close to you like that.â
âNo.â Mark cuts in, his hands sliding up to your shoulders, squeezing gently. âDonât say that.â
His eyes are steady when you meet them.
âItâs the best thing thatâs ever happened to me,â he says, firm but soft. âNo matter the consequences. Me. With you. Like... that.â
He blushes, and you blush, and suddenly neither of you can hold eye contact.
âThe best thing?â you murmur, fingers fumbling with the sheets. âReally?â
Mark swallows hard, his embarrassment obvious, but the truth is already bubbling too close to the surface to hold back. Everything heâs felt for you, everything heâs been trying to keep buried, is risingâunstoppable now.
âYes,â he says softly, voice a little shaky. âHaving sex with the person who matters most to me... because you needed me. Because Iââ
The pause stretches, fragile.
âBecause I love you.â
Your eyes widen at that, the guarded concern melting into something raw and vulnerable.
âReally?â you ask again, a little breathless.
âOf course,â Mark says, a little more sure this time. âI love you, Y/N. And Iâd do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant seeing you like thisâyour real, bright, happy selfâagain.â
Your lips part in surprise, then you smileâwide and brilliant and so full of love it practically blinds him. Before his tired brain can catch up, you throw yourself at him again, arms around his neck, kissing him open-mouthed and deep.
âI love you too, Mark,â you whisper against his lips, soft and sure.
Mark kisses you back, slow and full of affection, even though his body still feels like itâs made of lead. His chest aches, but in the best possible wayâbecause itâs full of you.
âIâm sorry I was gone so long,â he murmurs between kisses. âIf I hadnât been in space, you wouldnât have been starving. Thatâs on me.â
âDonât say that,â you roll your eyes, but the affection in your voice makes it feel more like a caress. âItâs my nature, okay? Not something you can control. And I waited for youâbecause I knew youâd come back.â
You lean in and peck the pout off his lips, soft and loving, and then both of you just⌠look at each other. Breathing the same air. Sharing the same space. The silence stretches, but itâs not awkwardâitâs warm.
Godâhe loves you. Loves everything about you. And loves even more that you feel the same.
âSo⌠does this meanâŚâ Mark hesitates, cheeks pink, âweâre a thing now? Because I want us to be. I really do. I donât ever want you kissing assholes behind the school anymoreâor, well, now at collegeâbecause⌠you have me.â
You giggle, flustered, cheeks glowing. âYeahâI have you.â You kiss him again, square on the mouth like you couldnât possibly get enough of him. âAnd you have me.â
Mark grins, red-faced and beaming, before he pulls you tight against his chest and kisses you againâdeep and slow and full of all the words heâs still too overwhelmed to say.
Like I love you.
Like I donât ever want to let go.
Like donât ever let me go either.
Then you say, casual as anything, âBy the way, my parents want you to have breakfast with us.â
âWhat?!â Mark pulls back instantly, blushing so hard it reaches his ears. âTheyâthey were here the whole time?!â
âWhat? No!â you say quickly, just as flustered. âBut when they got home from work and saw me fineâyou know, they kinda figured out what mustâve happened for me to be this fine. And, ughââ you roll your eyes, groaning into his shoulder, âthey wanna thank the boy who saved their âstubborn sonâs life,â or whatever.â
Mark exhales, still pink but processing. âOh. Then⌠sure. I meanâdo you think theyâll be okay with us? You and me?â
You smile, full of quiet certainty. âMark, theyâve always liked you. Remember the cake my mom made you for your sixteenth birthday?â
âShe decorated it with Seance Dog comic panels,â Mark mumbles, still flushed.
âExactly,â you laugh. âIâve been telling them about my crush on you since forever, Mark.â
And Mark flushes all over again, helpless to do anything but smile and pull you back in for another kiss.
A/N: thank you for readingggg, kisses and hugs and more kisses for dealing with me (â'âĄ'â)
#mark grayson x male reader#invincible x male reader#male reader#x male reader#male!reader#mark grayson x reader#mark grayson#invincible#gay
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part 2 lol
so apparently it's really fucking hard to get into the SAS. and ontop of that I've been getting tiktoks of people going around an army base asking why they joined. most responses were to pay off student loans, bills, school, (someone said there's was 6 years of prison or school and *mental note for idea*), the recruiter lied or spoilt them, barracks bunny.
141 (poly?) x notsobaddasssoldier!reader
and now i can't stop thinking of soldier!reader. who really half-assed their way through everything - only doing the job for the money and to pay off student loans + they had nothing better to do.
who somehow ends up being adopted by Price (kinda like Gaz i guess ???) all because reader happened to be in the right place at the right time and saved Price's ass while managing to complete a mission the Task Force were doing.
and it's not that you saved his ass or completed the mission that makes Price go *this is mine* - it's the fact that afterwards all you can say is-
"this shit is so not worth paying off my student loans."
"oh fuck i forgot to cancel my subscription. fuckk- waste of fucking money"
- all the while a building is burning in front of you but yeah just not at all concerned about what had just happened. so price just *grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you up, claiming you as part of his task force now.*
(lol you probably can't do that irl but this is fiction sooo suck my ass.)
and laswell's just like no... they are very much still green john. way too green. no.
but it's too late. he's already introducing you to the task force. singing your praises and you're just like
"man he promised to pay off my student loans and give me food." basically how ur recruiter got ya ass.
enough said. you get the whole off the books speech, saving the world by doing things others wouldn't like. but u couldn't give a rats ass - you should but nah...
and like... you know you're the rookie... you're still green... but some of the shit 141 do you just...
"so you just gonna kidnap the wife AND the child...? right... kid, you wanna watch bluey? here..."
"and you do this often...? crazy."
but you don't exactly protest. how could you with how much you get paid. you kinda just side-eye and look away when it's geta a lil crazy. *bombastic side-eye*
and the other 141 guys - oh my days. become just as enormed as price and want to start really trying to amplify your skills. but every time, they start explaining how to do things - the best way to go about a situation or how to fight a certain way.
you pull this face. like your top lip pulls back, your eyebrows scrunch together, and there's a slight frown on your lips as they speak. like you look confused/disgusted. but you don't even realise cause-
"why're you pulling that face?" 141
"that's... that's just my focusing face..."
"oh..." 141 feels bad
then when they do take you in feild you're shaking your head no. like you haven't been around that long. what the fuck? now you're bout to infiltrate an enemy base!?!?!
"can i just wait in the car?"
"no." price
"i'm gonna vomit."
"aim at the enemy." ghost
people think that because you're suddenly in this badass task force that surely they're just using you for your assets.
they all think you're the 141 barracks bunny. and maybe you should be pissed or annoyed or grossed out. but all you can do is sigh and pause from the burger price got you, and let out a long exhale.
"fuck... maybe i can just do onlyfans or be a pornstar... shit maybe it's not too late..."
"military is bascially sex work - selling my body..."
"not that different from what i'm doing now. body being used, check. body sore in the strangest places, check."
your tone so empty, blank and nonchalant, but there's a serious look in your eyes that when you grab your phone out to maybe do a little research on how you could do that, your phone is snatched from your hand by one of the guys and they walk out the room without a second look back.
with an annoyed huff, you go back to eating your burger. but suddenly, you turn to the person who genuinely thought you were a barracks bunny.
"hey you think if i be a barracks bunny i get out of missions and shit?"
"...that's not how it works..." rando.
"fuck."
and maybe you try...
like you go to price's office and the guys are already in there, chatting about something that you should really pay attention too but you can't be assed. instead you unashamedly start to speak...
"if i suck ya'll dicks can i get out the mission?"
"no. you still have to join." gaz says amused
"even if you-" *que long sigh from price* "even if you suck our dicks."
"that's fucked up. i should've done porn."
and with the most hurt and broken-hearted look on your face, you leave the office, closing the door with a dramatic sigh. the guys just stare at the door in... confusion, amusement, and maybe arousal if ya'll dig that
idk man just gimmie more soldier!reader who just really ain't the fucked, there for money, lowkey hungry and doesn't know what the fuck is happening. kinda a pet or little sibling energy that the 141 love.
bonus*
"wait so they aren't sucking our dicks?" *soap says getting slapped in the back of the head by ghost
a/n: brain is rottinnggg. i should be doing so much other shit but... cod just consumes my brain 24/7
#my post#x reader#poly 141#poly 141 x reader#john price x reader#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#kyle garrick x reader#simon riley x reader#johnny mactavish#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#captain price x reader#captain john price x reader#platonic 141#?#task force x reader#task force 141#platonic!141 x reader#boowrites#cod mwii#mwii#cod#simon riley#ghost x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#cod mwii imagines
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Hi, newbie here! Can we get a scenario where Sae is crushing on his new manager and is trying to let her know in his own tsundere kuudere way. But unfortunately for him, reader is too intimidated and somewhat scared of him to read his actions as trying to spend more alone time with her. Instead she sees it as him singling her out and trying to catch her into making a mistake so that he could get rid of her.
Like asking her what they should get for dinner, to Sae he's asking her on a dinner date (just without the asking part) to reader it's "if I choose a non satisfactory and unhealthy dinner my job is done for". But when they finally started properly talking to each other, it all worked out in the end.
âđĄđ¨đĽđ˛ đđŤđđđ¤đ˘đ§đ đđ˘đŤđđđĽđĽâ
a/n: OH THIS TROPE IS SO CUTE
thank you for being so detailed!!!Â
it started with the glances. the occasional ones from across the room when no one else was watching. sae itoshi didnât do unnecessary eye contact, not during training, not during meetings, and especially not with strangers. but ever since you were hired as the new team manager, heâd been glancing. subtly, barely perceptibly, in the way cats watch birds. curious, silent, unreadable.Â
and you? you were terrified.Â
not of the job, you were perfectly qualified. not of the team, most of the players were friendly, maybe even too friendly. but sae itoshi? the prodigy midfielder with a stare cold enough to solidify oxygen? he scared the living daylights out of you.Â
youâd seen him get benched once for muttering "if weâre playing like amateurs, iâd rather not play at all." and he hadnât even raised his voice. he didnât need to. his apathy alone could level a man.Â
so when he started singling you out, you knew something was wrong.Â
âhey. you.âÂ
you froze, clipboard clutched like a shield. "... yes?"Â
he was standing too close. not that close, but close enough that you could smell expensive shampoo and inevitable disappointment. he tilted his head toward the hallway.Â
âweâre going to get food. youâre coming.âÂ
you blinked. âwhy me?âÂ
âyouâre the manager, arenât you?âÂ
âi-is that a test? like a secret team-building task? am i supposed to calculate everyoneâs macros on the go? because i can do that! i just, uh, i didnât bring my tablet, soââÂ
âgeez. no.â he sighed. âjust dinner.âÂ
which, to sae, meant: i want to have dinner with you.Â
but to you? it sounded like: this is your final chance to not screw up dinner or your job.Â
so you ended up spending the entire meal calculating protein-to-carb ratios while eating like a prisoner. sae ordered sushi. you ordered a plain chicken breast and asked the waiter if the dressing was low sodium.Â
sae stared at you. âyou think iâm going to fire you over salad?âÂ
you choked. âam i not?âÂ
he sighed again, but this time there was a hint of disbelief. was she serious?Â
âlook. i donât usually ask people to eat with me. youâd know that if you stopped looking like i was going to eat you.âÂ
â... i-i donât think that.âÂ
âyou flinch every time i breathe near you.âÂ
âthatâs an exaggeration.âÂ
he leaned in. âthen why are you flinching now?âÂ
you flinched. he stared at you. you shriveled.Â
the thing about sae itoshi was that he had all the romantic tact of a brick wall. his version of flirting included asking what shoes you were wearing and then staring at them for too long. his idea of small talk was:Â
âyou didnât eat breakfast.âÂ
âhow did you know?âÂ
âyou looked weaker than usual.âÂ
or:Â
âstop looking so tired.âÂ
â... iâm just sleepy...âÂ
âso go sleep. you look pathetic.âÂ
but when you left a snack on his desk the next day, he stared at it like youâd proposed. a protein bar, carefully chosen, high in BCAAs. he stared at the wrapper, then at you, like he was seeing sunlight for the first time.Â
âyou got this for me?âÂ
âyes?âÂ
âitâs not poisoned?âÂ
âno?âÂ
he paused. then muttered, âthanks,â in a voice so soft it could be mistaken for wind.Â
you blinked. he didnât kill you. didnât even scowl. just took the bar and walked away like he hadnât just melted internally.Â
and you? you started thinking. maybe⌠maybe he didnât hate you.Â
it all came to a head one night after practice.Â
you were staying late to reorganize the locker inventory. as usual, sae lingered. he always did. claimed he was âjust watching tape,â but he never watched anything. just stood there, leaning on the wall, eyes occasionally drifting to you, lips twitching like he wanted to say something, but couldnât be bothered to form a sentence.Â
âwhat?â you finally asked, not looking up from your clipboard.Â
âyouâre staying late again.âÂ
âyeah.âÂ
âyou donât have to.âÂ
âsomeoneâs gotta do it.âÂ
silence.Â
â⌠youâre annoying,â he said.Â
you glanced up.Â
he was staring at the floor. âyou think iâm trying to fire you or something. you think everything i do is a test.âÂ
âbecause it feels like it...âÂ
âitâs not.âÂ
he looked at you, eyes tired but honest. âi like you.âÂ
your brain short-circuited. âlike, as a manager?âÂ
âno. not as a manager.âÂ
â⌠like, as a person?âÂ
âgosh, do i have to spell it out?âÂ
you blinked. â⌠yes?âÂ
he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, cheeks tinged ever so slightly pink. âiâve been trying to ask you out for two weeks.âÂ
âby criticizing my lunch choices and calling me pathetic?âÂ
âby spending time with you,â he deadpanned. âi donât do that with just anyone.âÂ
you stared at him. he looked away.Â
â⌠but if you donât want to, i get it. iâm not good at this.âÂ
you paused. then laughed. loud, sharp, slightly hysterical. âoh my gosh. i thought you were stalking me into HR material.âÂ
he blinked. you added, âi wouldâve just said yes if you were normal about it.âÂ
he raised an eyebrow. âand youâre calling me not normal?âÂ
you grinned. it was the first time you smiled at him without fear. âso whatâs for dinner, then?â you teased.Â
he blinked again. then smirked, eyes soft for once.Â
âanything but salad.âÂ
Š đ¤đąđŹđđ đ˘
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk#bllk x reader#sae itoshi#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x reader#sae itoshi x reader#holy freaking airball
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Broken Smile
Summary: You are one of PTMC's best ER residents, but it's your day off. You head to Pittfest. Robby and Abbot have to pick up the pieces. Reader x platonic!Abbot and Robby
Warnings: Blood, Death, injury, vomit, trauma, Gore
A/N: This was a request from an anon, I hope this is what you were looking for. Please let me know if I missed any warnings.
âHow in the hell did you manage to get a half-shift?â Samira asked you in disbelief.
âI know how to flatter the right people. Itâs a gift.â You smiled, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders.
âYou better get me something or Iâll never forgive you for leaving me.â Samira scoffed as she typed at her computer.
âIâll think about it.â You chuckled as you started to gather your things.
âY/N will you do me a favor?â Robby waltzed up to the desk. âJust keep an eye out for Jake while you're there.â He asked, his shoulders tense.
âYeah, of course. We were meeting up for one of the bands anyway.â You nodded, slinging your backpack on your shoulder. âIâm out of here, donât call me if you need me.â You smiled and pranced out the door.
Pittfest was in full swing when you arrived. Everyone of age was mostly drunk or high as you made your way through the crowd. You had stopped at home to change, a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top. The sun was already blistering your skin, but it felt nice even if you knew it would hurt tomorrow. It was a rare good day, you thought to yourself.
âJake!â You ran up to the teen, his arm hung around his girlfriend.
âY/N! Hey! Leah, this is one of Robbyâs coworkers. Sheâs one of the cool ones.â He laughed.
âI think you mean the coolest.â You corrected.
âNice to meet you! Jake, we should call him and thank him.â Leah suggested. She seemed sweet, it was probably because you were there. She looked like she could cause mischief, you liked her.
Jake pulled out his phone, facetiming Robby. The music was blasting, you knew there was no way that old man heard a thing they were saying.
âY/N made it too!â Jake moved the phone to put you in shot.
âDonât worry boss, Iâm making sure they keep room for Jesus!â you winked at Jake who started to blush.
âAnd thatâs why youâre my favorite resident.â Robby chuckled.
The day went on easy. You had a beer, enjoyed the music, ate terrible fried food and watched Jake fall completely in love. It was sweet. They looked good together, you thought. You were glad he had a nice girl for his first love. Even if the odds of it lasting past college were slim to none.
You were at one of the food trucks fueling up on beer and fries for the rest of the evening when there were a few pops. They sounded like fireworks from where you were, until they were accompanied by screams. Â A chill ran up your spine, palms sweating as you moved to investigate. More shots. Someone screamed that there was a shooter.
âOh shit.â You felt yourself start to shake. Your first thought was get to Jake.
You ran through the crowd, trying to see where he was. You tried calling, he wasnât answering. You stopped to help up a few people who had fallen, when you saw the blood-soaked grass. Something in your brain clicked, your training taking over. Fear mostly forgotten, something you knew was part of your brain trying to get you to survive.
You took off toward the first aid tent. You needed supplies, they wouldnât have enough, but it was a place to start.
âIâm Dr. L/N, I need gloves and anything you can spare!â You shouted as you ran behind the table, gathering everything you could into a spare bag. You ran back out into the crowd, shots echoed overhead.
You worked to stabilize everyone you encountered, instructing other concertgoers to take them to safety as you ran from person to person.
âHey! Here, I brought out all the food trucks first aid kits! Not much but itâs something!â You recognized one of the cooks as he came running up to you.
âThank you so much, now get the hell out of here.â You barked.
âOh hell yeah.â He smiled. He smiled at you. Then he wasnât. His smile, replaced by a gaping wound. You felt warmth dripping down your face. You were confused for a moment. Something on your forehead stung. You raised your hand to the spot, pulling away to see blood. A bullet fragment grazed your forehead you thought. A fragment from the one that went through that kind manâs smile. The realization crashed down on you as you watched him crumple to the ground, lifeless. The air was knocked from your lungs, you couldnât move. You wanted to run, vomit, scream, but none of it happened. You just stood there. Frozen.
âHelp! Please!â The screams echoed, bouncing around your skull. You had to move. You had to help. You finally felt you could move your legs and ran to help the next person, wiping the blood and brain matter from your face. Â Another shot echoed and you felt something burning your thigh, you fell to the ground.
A bullet was lodged in your left thigh. You felt the panic fill your throat. You tried to push it down, you had to asses and treat. The bullet hadnât hit the femoral, it wasnât in too deep. Youâd be in pain but youâd survive. You gathered yourself to your feet and limped your way to the next patient.
This went on for hours. Scrambling to get to each patient, never having enough time to help everyone. People were screaming for you, grabbing at your body to get you to help them or someone they loved. You couldnât move fast enough. You werenât fast enough.
âY/N!â You heard Jakeâs voice, something in your chest broke. You felt the tears rolling down your cheeks but ignored them.
âYou got shot!â You yelled looking over his leg.
âIâm fine! Leah, you gotta help Leah!â He cried. You looked at the girl, her face pale and the wound on her chest oozing blood from between Jakeâs fingers where he was holding pressure.
âOkay, okay. Iâll try.â You said, your voice shaking. You took his hands away. She wasnât going to make it. You knew she wouldnât, but did your best to get her stable enough to make it to a truck.
âYou need help getting out of here!?â A small group of men ran up to you.
âGet these two to PTMC as soon as you can, do not stop for anything!â You yelled as they gathered Leah up into their arms.
âJake, keep pressure on her wound! Donât stop!â You yelled as they took him away.
You ran around the fairgrounds, blood soaking through your jeans, the bullet was grinding into you thigh more and more. You sat down and dug through your bag of supplies, finding a pair of forceps. You had no medications, no lidocaine cream, just hand sanitizer to clean them. You took a deep breath and dug them into your thigh. White hot pain surged through your body, you screamed out as you dug the bullet from your thigh. Your hands were shaking as you lifted it to your eye level. It looked intact, no fragments. You put it in your pocket and did your best to wrap your leg.
You were out of gloves. Your hands were stained red. You kept going. You didnât know how you kept going, but you did. The ground was soft and wet, each step forcing blood to puddle up from the grass. You pronounced too many people dead. You worked on teenagers and elderly, holding hands with them as they took their last breath. You tried to do cpr for every one of them. Even the ones you knew were a lost cause.
âDr. L/N?â You heard a voice that was vaguely familiar from behind you. You were stood in the middle of the fairground, bodies surrounding you.
âDoc, theyâre gone. There isnât anyone else to save.â The voice said. You turned and saw one of the medics that frequented PTMC.
âHuh?â You mumbled.
âDoc, letâs get you checked out.â Â They walked up to you slowly, as if you were a stray dog.
âI triedâŚâ You mumbled.
âYouâre okay. Letâs get you out of here.â They said, wrapping an arm around you. You didnât remember the ride to the hospital. You didnât remember the medics trying to clean your wounds only for you to flinch and push them away. You didnât remember them asking if you wanted help out of the truck. You saw the ambulance bay doors and walked in like you did everyday.
The chaos was dying down; the ER was in the process of cleaning up from the mass casualties. There were still signs of what happened: gloves thrown on the floor, blood smeared across the tiles. You wandered in, your feet dragging as you looked around confused.
âOh my god!â You heard Danaâs voice as she took in the sight of you. You looked like youâd walked through hell. Your clothes were covered in blood and dirt, your once white shoes now a dark burgundy. Even your hair was sticky with blood.
âY/N!?â Dr. Abbot came running over to you, putting his hands on your face, examining your forehead.
âGet a gurney, now!â Robby barked. You stood still. Your whole body was shaking as the adrenaline started to leave.
âI tried to helpâŚâ Your voice was small. You looked around and saw the ER had come to a standstill at the sight of you. Everyone looking at you in horrified sympathy.
âYou did, kid. You helped a hell of a lot of people.â Dr. Abbot said as he guided you onto the gurney. They wheeled you into a trauma bay, which you thought was too much.
âWhereâs all the blood coming from?â You heard one of the nurses ask.
âItâs not mine. Itâs notâŚthey kept grabbing me to help.â You said, the tears starting to fall.
âBullet graze to the forehead, looks like a bullet wound to the left anterior thigh.â Abbot rattled off.
âI took it out.â You mumbled.
âWhat?â Robby and Abbot looked up, shocked. You pulled the bullet from your pocket.
âI couldnât keep going with it in, I took it out.â You said, dropping the bullet onto the tray next to you.
âJesus Christ.â Robby gasped.
âOkay, letâs get her in line for head CT. Get her a fluid bolus to help with shock and get me a closure kit.â Abbot ordered.
âIs Jake okay?â You mumbled, grabbing onto Robby.
âYeah, yeah. Heâll be okay.â You saw something break in him. âSaid you helped him. Said you helped everyone.â He held your hand.
âDid Leah make it?â Your breath hitching in your chest, knowing the answer.
âWeâre giving you some morphine for the pain, Kid. You might fall asleep, let yourself.â Abbot interrupted, shooting Robby a look.
âI should have gone with her. It would have been better, she would have made it.â The sobs took over your body.
âNo, it wouldnât have. You did everything you could for her. We did everything we could. There was no more anyone could have done.â Abbotâs voice was firm but gentle.
âI wasnât fast enough! I couldnât move fast enough! I should have saved them! I couldnât Save them!â Your voice cracking, breaking everyone in the rooms heart. Robby turned away to hide the tears. Abbot clenched his fists and shook his head.
âLetâs get propofol on board. Kid, Iâm going to sedate you for this. You need it.â Abbot said, clearing his throat.
âI wasnât good enough! I failed! I failed them, I failed all of them!â You were in hysterics. Abbot held you down by the shoulders as Princess came in and administered the propofol with red, glassy eyes.
âDonât fight it, Kid! Donât fight it.â Abbot pleaded. Robbyâs hand never left yours. You sobbed yourself into sedation. Finally, able to rest.
âWhat are we going to do with her?â Robby sighed.
âWe take care of her. We make sure sheâs safe from herself.â Abbot said as he worked to close the wound.
âSheâll need to be put on leave. Thereâs no way she can treat patients after this.â Robby shook his head.
âWeâll figure it out. Iâm not letting this break her. Sheâs too good for that, she deserves better.â Abbot clenched his jaw.
Your head was pounding as you started to regain consciousness. The lights were too bright, sending shock waves through your skull as you tried to open your eyes. Your leg was throbbing in time with your heartbeat, it was irritating. All of your muscles were sore; you felt like youâd been steamrolled. Then the memories came flooding back. The blood, the mud, the screams.
âEasy, youâre okay.â You heard Robbyâs voice. âYouâre safe, youâre in the hospital.â He said, a hand on your shoulder.
âtoo bright.â You mumbled. Robby got up and turned the lights down.
âYou have a concussion, but nothing serious.â He said sitting next to you.
âWhat time is it?â You robbed at your eyes.
âItâs a little after midnight.â Robby looked at his watch.
âYou shouldnât be here.â You said, your throat dry and spit thick in your mouth.
âWeâre taking shifts. Abbot will be here in a bit, Iâll go sleep. You donât need to worry about it.â He told her, leaning on the guard rails.
âWhen can I go home?â
âIn a few hours. With a follow-up appointment with psych tomorrow.â He told her.
âI donât want-â
âNot negotiable. Youâre getting evaluated, itâs protocol after what youâve been through. Youâre also on medical leave for the next three weeks.â He said, knowing you were going to fight him.
âThatâs a bit excessive. I can still do desk work with my leg.â You argued, tears slipping down your cheeks.
âYou need to heal more than that leg. We all do. But you saw things, did things, none of us had to. Itâs going to stick to you for a while. We need to make sure that youâre okay before bringing you back in.â He offered you a tissue. You pushed it away.
âSitting at home, with my thoughts isnât going to heal anything.â You snapped.
âNeither is putting your head down and pushing yourself beyond your limits.â
âI just want to go home.â You said, bottom lip trembling.
âI know.â Robby sighed, squeezing shut his eyes in frustration. âYouâre going to stay with Abbot for a week.â He knew youâd hate the idea.
âWhat? No! I can go home!â You shouted, tears streaming down your face. The door opened and in walked Abbot.
âYou told her then.â He said as he sat across from you.
âI donât need a babysitter! Iâm fine!â you yelled.
âYou arenât. You arenât fine. Itâs okay to be not okay. But we arenât letting you fall through the cracks. You will let us take care of you, itâs not a choice. You saw things, Kid, that you wonât be able to forget. The human brain is not equipped for the things you had to do today. Itâs going to take time to figure out how to deal with all of this. If anyone here is qualified to tell you that itâs me.â Abbot said, putting a hand on your arm.
âI donât want to be thisâŚpathetic thing, everyone is going to look at me different.â You tried to stop the crying but failed.
âYou arenât pathetic. No one thinks that. If anything, everyone here looks at you and sees the strength that they donât have.â Robby said.
âKid, youâll get through this. Itâll be a bitch, but you will. We arenât going anywhere. Besides, Iâm not that bad to live with.â Abbot shrugged.
âItâs asking too much.â You shook your head.
âWell, we werenât asking so no, itâs not.â Abbot smirked.
âYou deserve a chance to get better. Thatâs all weâre doing, giving you that chance.â Robby said.
You wanted to fight it. Something in you not able to accept such kindness after what you had just witnessed. But you didnât. You kept quiet as they told you their plans and nodded along when they asked if you understood. You werenât sure if youâd ever be okay, but at least you knew theyâd be looking out for you. Theyâd catch you if you fell. Â Â
#dana evans#dr. jack abbot x reader#dr. jack abbott#dr. robby#jack abbot fanfic#jack abbot x oc#jack abbot x reader#the pitt#the pitt fanfiction#michael robinavitch#michael robinavich x reader#tw blo0d#tw death
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Hey there! Can you do a Katsuki x Reader pre-relationship where he's injured and she comes visit him and offers to feed him while he's weaker. He at first refuses but then begrudgingly agrees. Over time he even welcomes it, making excuses for her to feed him even when he's capable himself and saying stuff like "My head hurts today" or "My arm's not feeling well today" and she just acts along with it
Just This Once⌠or Maybe More
Katsuki Bakugo hated being weak. He hated feeling useless. And, most of all, he hated being babied.
So when he ended up in the hospital with a fractured wrist, a few cracked ribs, and a mild concussion thanks to an explosion that hadnât gone quite as planned, the last thing he wanted was for people to fuss over him. His friends had already stopped by, Kirishima cracking jokes about how he was âtough as hellâ while Mina made a show of fluffing his pillows just to piss him off. He barked at them until they left.
But then you showed up.
You entered his hospital room, a plastic bag of food in one hand and an unreadable expression on your face. You werenât part of the group that usually hovered around him, but you had your ways of sneaking into his space. You always had. And for some reason, he let you.
âBrought food,â you announced, lifting the bag slightly.
âTch. I donât need your damn charity.â
âI know,â you said, entirely unaffected. âBut hospital food is disgusting, and youâre probably gonna bite a nurseâs head off if they bring you another dry chicken breast.â
He scowled but said nothing. That meant you were right.
You set the bag on the tray table and started unpacking the food. It smelled goodâbetter than whatever garbage the hospital had been shoving at him. Katsukiâs stomach grumbled in betrayal, and your lips quirked in amusement.
âYou want me to feed you?â you asked casually, like it was a normal question and not one that made his eye twitch.
âThe hell kind of question is that? No, I donât want you to feed me,â he snapped.
âAlright, alright.â You held up your hands in surrender, but there was a teasing glint in your eyes as you opened a container and started eating your own meal.
Katsuki reached for the chopsticks, but the splint on his wrist made his movements clumsy. His ribs ached when he twisted too much, and he barely managed to pick up a piece of chicken before it slipped from his grip and fell back into the container.
He growled in frustration.
You said nothing, just watching with mild amusement, waiting. He knew what you were waiting for.
âI donât need help,â he muttered through gritted teeth.
âI know,â you repeated.
Another failed attempt. His jaw clenched. His pride was at war with his stomach.
ââŚFine,â he spat. âJust this once.â
Your eyes softened slightly, but you didnât tease him. You just picked up a piece of chicken with your chopsticks and held it up to his lips.
âOpen up.â
He scowled but obeyed, biting down a little harder than necessary just to prove a point. You rolled your eyes, but you kept feeding him, and despite his earlier resistance, he had to admit it wasnât the worst thing in the world.
Maybe it was because the food was actually good. Maybe it was because you werenât treating him like an invalidâjust someone who needed a little help. Maybe it was something else entirely, something he didnât want to name.
But after that day, it became a thing.
The Next Visit
âI can feed myself today,â he said as soon as you entered the room.
You raised an eyebrow. âOh? So you donât want this beef bowl I brought?â
His stomach betrayed him again with an impatient growl. He glared at you.
ââŚI didnât say that.â
You smirked, pulling up a chair next to his bed. âYou sure? Because if youâre feeling all independent today, I can just eat it myself.â
His eye twitched. âTch. Whatever. Do what you want.â
You took that as permission and started feeding him again, and this time, he didnât fight it.
A Week Later
âI thought you said you were fine,â you teased, holding up a piece of tonkatsu.
Katsuki scowled, arms crossed over his chest. âMy head hurts today.â
You tilted your head. âOh really? I thought your concussion was getting better?â
âDid I stutter?â
You bit back a laugh, choosing to play along. âOf course. Silly me.â
You fed him another bite, and this time, he didnât even bother looking annoyed. He just chewed, swallowed, and waited expectantly for the next.
A Few More Days Later
âMy armâs not feeling well today,â Katsuki grumbled as you unwrapped another takeout container.
You paused. âYour other arm?â
He gave you a deadpan look. âYes. Itâs sympathy pain.â
You stared at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter.
âYouâre so full of shit,â you wheezed.
âTch. Just shut up and feed me already.â
You shook your head but obliged, and if you noticed the way his lips curled ever so slightly after each bite, you didnât mention it.
And ThenâŚ
âYou know, I did see you texting Kirishima with your âinjuredâ arm earlier,â you pointed out, amusement dancing in your eyes.
Katsuki huffed. âThat was different.â
âOh? How so?â
âTextingâs easy. Eating takes precision.â
You snorted. âUh-huh. Precision.â
âYou questioning me, dumbass?â
âNot at all.â You held up a bite of food, and he leaned forward to take it without hesitation.
Yeah. You were definitely onto him. But you didnât call him out on it. Not yet.
Because deep down, you both knew this had long stopped being about convenience.
#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#bakugou x reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bnha#mha#mha fanfiction#my hero academia#boku no hero academia
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commando | emily prentiss underwear trilogy



commando | emily prentiss
underwear trilogy
pairing: emily prentiss x fem!bau!reader
summary: emily became a professional in guessing your underwear. but one time she missed it.
content/tw: mentions of alcohol, emily guesses readerâs underwear, reader goes commando, flirting, (if i missed any please lmk! )
word count: 1.2k
a/n: I hate this fucking name (underwear) but I canât think of anything else. There will be a part three (if you want me to tag you when itâs out, lmk!), fear not my horny emily admirers <3
tag: @snoopyaah
dividers: @uzmacchiato
part one here
main masterlist
âRough night?â you ask Emily, watching her rest her head on her hands, pressing her temples like it would magically make her brain come back to normal.
âVery.â she muttered, raising her eyes from the position to stare at you.
As always, her staring made you uneasy.
For the majority of your life, you were sure who you were. Your likes, your dislikes. About food, weather, clothes and people. It wasnât like you labeled yourself, you didnât. But you never actually questioned yourself. Ever.
Yes, you found women attractive. Yes, youâve kissed one or two during college years. For fun. For science. But it wasnât something you consciously thought about. You didnât have a moment when you realized you liked women.Â
You didnât.
Right?
It wasnât something you thought about. Like it was, somehow, out of your league. Something that your brain wasnât capable of developing. You never thought âoh, I am straightâ. You just also never thought you werenât.Â
And that wasnât a problem. It never stopped you from sleeping at night. It was never a topic on your therapy sessions. You managed to get where you were (all the way up to the FBI) without thinking about it.
Your sexuality simply wasnât a question for you.
Until Emily happened.
All it took was one heavy flirting and all your convictions shattered. One night at a bar she mentioned your underwear, and you lost it.
And then, you started to notice things. Itâs not like you never noticed them, itâs just⌠different. For example, how the scent of her shampoo (coconut, because why not?) filled the entire room when she undid her ponytail, usually after a long stretch. How she always leaned back and wiggled her eyebrows proudly when she told a joke (usually a terrible one). How she pronounced your name, dragging the last syllable when she asked you a favor, sharp and pointed when she was annoyed, singing-songing it when she had something funny to say.
Emily was all up on you, being in presence (you were table partners) and in thought (you couldnât get her out of your head).
âYou want a refill?â you asked, pointed to the half-empty mug in front of her, the coffee in it probably cold.
âIf I taste this cheap ass disgusting coffee I will throw upâ she groaned, dropping her head down again. You chuckled. At the sound of it, she snapped her head up, her eyes slightly widened like she had an idea âLet's make a bet!â
âLetâs not.â
âYes, letâs do it!â she disagreed, pushing herself up and smiling greedily. You rolled your eyes, because of course she would have it her way (you always let her) âIf I guess your underwear correctly, youâll get me a coffee from the cafeteria downtown.â
âAbsolutely not! I just got here.â
âIâll do all your paperwork if I guess wrong.â you eyed her suspiciously.
âWhy donât you ask Reid?â
âEw. I canât picture Reid in underwear. Heâs like a sibling.â
âAnd Iâm not?â
âNope.â she answered with a âpopâ, her stare warming you up inside. âIâll do your paperwork for a week.â
âFine.â you agreed, more to change the subject of her not seeing you as a sibling than the prize suggested.
She clapped her hands in delight, leaning back on her chair and watching you up and down.
âYouâll have to turn around.â
âAbsolutely fucking not. That was not on the deal.â you pointed at her. She laughed, shrugging.
âWorth a try. Fine.â then resumed the staring. Just when you were close to calling the whole thing off (all the staring was actually doing a number on you), she started to speak âYou blow dried your hair, and youâre wearing lip gloss. Which means youâre in a good mood.â
âFeeling pretty puts me in a good mood, oh youâre so good.â you snarked, sarcastically. She didnât flinch, continuing her analysis.
âNo, you woke up in a good mood. Thatâs why youâre all doll up. And you never wake up in a good mood, unless youâve got eight hours of sleep.â she calculates a little more âYou never manage to sleep eight hours when youâre in your period, so I can discard those comfy granny panties you own.â you roll your eyes.
âWas that really necessary?â
âVery.â she states, seriously âAlright, weâre almost there. You got here in time, so you had time to get yourself ready. Youâre wearing a cotton candy colored bra, I can see the lace peeking out of your shirt.â you glance down horrified and close another button of your shirt, to which she just grins âYouâre feeling yourself too much to not be using a matching set. So maybe a tong, cotton candy-colored and lace. Little pink bow on each side. Garcia gave it to you on your birthday. This earned me a cinnamon roll.â she pointed, giving you a cheeky grin.
âThe fuck?â you whispered to yourself, getting your car keys and stomping outside. You sighed loudly as you heard Emilyâs laughter in the background.
This started a tradition of some sorts. Everytime she wanted something (which usually included food, overpriced coffees and/or reports) from you, she made a bed. Somehow, she always got it right. And it never fails to make you blush furiously.
Which led you to another Saturday night, on your âmonthly single-only exclusively night outâ (Garcia named it).
You, Emily, Garcia, Morgan and a not-very-excited-but-just-now-after-four-monthly-meetings-is-starting-to-get-used-to-it Spencer. The only singles in the team.
For some reason you and Emily got picked out to get the third round of drinks for the group, so now you were standing side by side on the balcony watching the bartender prepare five margaritas (to which Morgan was surprisingly excited for).
âIf I guess your underwear right now, you owe me a shot.â she tried, already smirking.
You snorted, mimicking her smile before complying âGo on.â because there was no point in trying to stop it. You had just as much fun as she did, and right now the loud music and the previous two drinks did their job in keeping your worries far from your mind. So any thoughts of how you shouldnât be feeling like that about your coworker just vanished, leaving you with nothing but her lingering eyes and how kissable her lips looked under that light.
âThereâs no way youâre wearing lace under that dress.â she pointed out, making you laugh in agreement. That night you decided to go a little out of your way, choosing a backless skin-tight dark brown dress, its length stopping on your mid-tights. You felt good in it, and the ogling you kept getting from Emily did a poor job in humbling you.
âWhat else?â you encouraged her.
âYouâre a freak for matching colors, so Iâd say youâre wearing one of those invisible thongs. Probably the same color of your dress or something red-ish.â she decided, raising her eyebrows in expectation.
Your lips curled into a smug smirk, and Emily interpreted in a bad sign. âOh oh.â she murmured.
Encouraged by nothing more than the alcohol-boldness and the desire stirring on the pit of your stomach from weeks of teasing, you leaned closer to her, speaking in a mix of teasing and amusement tone, your lips ghosting the shell of her ear.
âOh, Em. Iâm going commando.âÂ
#criminal minds#fanfiction#bau!reader#emily prentiss x female reader#emily prentiss drabble#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fic#criminal minds jj#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds angst#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#derek morgan#penelope garcia#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine
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"In a world of boys, he's a gentleman." Ushijima Wakatoshi as your volleyball player highschool boyfriend. âË.đ âŠ
When Ushijima realized that he had feelings for you, he assumed he didn't need to do anything about it. It was a happy crush perse, a feeling he could just acknowledge that was there but not take action on it.
Well, that's until you started showing up on his big gamesâthe ones with student cheer squads on the benches. Whenever he'd score, the crowd goes wild. Chanting his name. It felt good for people to acknowledge their team's power, but it felt even better when he met your excited eyes.
He'll find it oddly energizing when he'd see you on the benches.
From the moment his team would enter the gym, his eyes would wander to Shiratorizawa's side of the benches. Looking for you. If you weren't there, he'd ask your friends where you were.
He wouldn't do anything about his feelings. Well that's until someone else took your attention. Ushijima is silently a possessive person, he has confidence in himself that he can make you fall for him. And his confidence would shoot higher than the skies if his competition was someone who played volleyball too.
He'd find you cheering for another team, or getting too supportive of another school. You come from Shiratorizawa, why would you support another school?
He'd look for you after the game, amongst the crowds of people looking to go home. And when he'd finally see you alone, you're with one of the players he had just fought.
He'll stop himself from doing anything, but he'd clench his fist. Going up to you, he'd ask if you could talk alone. If you said no, he'd say it right there.
"Y/N L/N." His tall stature looking over you and the poor guy would make it seem like he's picking a fight in other people's eyes. "It seems that I have feelings for you." He'd shoot the guy from the other team a glance, then proceed to head back to the gym. "I will talk to you at another time, however I hope you take my words seriously."
And that's basically how your relationship started with him, his straightforwardness is one of the many reasons you love him. The next morning, he'd be outside your classroom with a bouquet of your favorite flowers with a gift that he researched from your friends. Making sure to ask your family for permission to court you if you hadn't liked him yet, but to his surprise you agreed to date him.
No matter how long his practice hours go until late evening, he'd never let you walk home alone. He'd personally tell the coach to let him take you home before resuming practice. And if he couldn't come, he'd make sure to tell your parents you'll come home late and suggest you watch him play. He would even suggest for you to become a manager of the volleyball team. Of course, his idea was rejected.
On your first date, he'd ask his teammates for advice on what to wear. Wearing special perfume he'd save only for special occasions, checking how he looks from time to time on the way to your house. He'd make sure to always bring a gift for your parents as well, practical ones like fruits or vegetables.
He doesn't like PDA, but he'd never refuse to hold your hand. He'll let you bring him lunch from time to time, but he'd tell you not to especially when he knows you're busy that night or morning. He'd tell you to eat healthier when he notices you've been eating too much junk food, and bring you on his runs sometimes too.
On valentine's day, there'd be a school event in Shiratorizawa. But instead of partaking in that, he'd much rather spend it in private with you. He wants to share special and intimate moments with you and only you, giving gifts, holding hands tighter than usual, seeing you smile.
Your arguments would be calm, there'll be no screaming or blaming. But fighting his pride would prove to be hard, he knows he's only thinking of what's good for you and him. But sometimes he forgets to notice your feelings. You have to be clear with him and be straightforward with how you feel, no matter how ridiculous you think it sounds. He'd reassure and explain everything to you.
When you start to cry, his heart drops like a ball in front of his eyes at the most crucial time of a game. But unlike how he'd act when he's in a game, his will would be shaken. He'd question what he said or did, he'll try to comfort you with words but he'd think twice. What if he'll say something that'll hurt you again? So he'd hug you, he'd hug you tight.
"I apologize. I didn't mean to make you cry. You can hit me if you're mad. Just please.. stop crying." You'll never see a more pained expression than when you're crying in his arms, and even more so when he's the reason behind those tears.
He's the type of boyfriend that decided he will marry you the day you became his girlfriend.
#ushijima wakatoshi#haikyuu#shiratorizawa#haikyuu ushijima#haikyuu wakatoshi#hq wakatoshi#wakatoshi x reader#ushiwaka#ushijima x reader#haikyu x reader#ushijima#hq ushijima
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Hello! Ive been binging poly!141 and I keep coming back to your writing for my fix (because by now its basically an addictionđ
)
I had this idea that the 141 are together with a civilian reader. And civilian reader works in retail, part time, and is mostly at home. Normally, they would be home by the time their boys came home, welcoming them with open arms, a hot plate of food, and time to rest and relax. But this time, the 141 get home early and realize where reader works: Walmart (or equivalent). Reader has been keeping this a secret cause they know its not cute like a coffee shop or cool. Its just their job. And now the most important men in their life know. Im thinking the 141 found out because they went grocery shopping and happened to come across reader or something similar to that.
I work at Walmart and it sucks𼲠thought that maybe something like this might helpđ
Tysm, nonny! So happy to hear you like the writing. I hope this does your idea justice. (Walmart doesn't have stores in the UK, but they own ASDA.)
Also, thank you for my first request! đŤśđťđŤśđť
pure fluff, bad accents (per usual)
Your boys find out you work part-time at ASDA on a random rainy Thursday in March.
You don't really need a job. All four of your lovers are officers with the British army. Prior to you, they all lived in base barracks. Prior to you, they lived fairly Spartan existences. Prior to you, most of their income sat in the bank, quietly accumulating.
They have plenty of money saved up that they love using to spoil you, when you let them. You know that if you asked, they'd give you everything, but you draw the line about asking them for an allowance like some tradwife. You want some pocket money of your own. Thus, the part-time job at the ASDA in town.
You're a people person, good at handling big personalities. You need to be to keep up with your boys. Between John's need for control, Simon's stoic dominance, Johnny's aggressive enthusiasm, and Kyle's blinding charisma, you aren't some shrinking violet. Within a week of your hire, your manager watches how you weather a nasty piece of work trying to demand concessions you aren't permitted to give and immediately puts you in customer service.
You're nearly unflappable in the face of frustrated pensioners and harried parents and entitled young professionals. Over and over, you're the one they call when a customer is going spare. Which is how your boys find out about your job.
They've been deployed for over two weeks, and you have no idea when they'll return. John had originally said they'd be gone for at least a month, so you aren't expecting them home any time soon. However, they'd come home much earlier than anyone thought, and they wanted to surprise you.
You're always so good about making the house feel like a home, with your bright smile and warm laughter, your home cooked food and soft touches in decor. You make them feel like people, not weapons, and they want to return the favor. This last deployment had been hard, and all four of your boys were missing your sweet voice and tender care. They wanted to show you that they loved and cared for you the way you always showed your love and care for them.
It was Johnny's suggestion to prep a meal for you as both a surprise and a thank you. After debrief, they pile into the car and decide to stop at ASDA for everything they need before heading home to surprise you. It's John who causes the code call.
You hear Susan's voice over the store-wide address system. "We could use a little Sunshine in the floral department." That's your cue. You finish with the pensioner at your till as Jacob, your manager, comes over to relieve you.
You take a deep breath and square your shoulders. In your experience, a Sunshine call in floral is a man angry the store doesn't have the fancy arrangements listed on the website. You wish the signage on the site would be more clear that the beautiful bouquets are online orders only. It would save you having to explain why the offers in store are so limited.
You hear him before you see him, smokey voice grumbling, "But if they show the bloody thing on the site as available, you should have it hear." You'd recognize the voice anywhere. He's not angry, not really, but Susan doesn't know that. Add in the sheer size of him, and Simon looming over his shoulder, it's no wonder she called for support.
You have never wanted to walk away from a situation as much as you want to right now, but before you can make an escape, Susan notices you over John's shoulder. Her little wave is enough for your men to notice, and they turn as one to see you coming towards them. Immediately their demeanor shifts. Simon's back sags as though his strings were cut, leaving him loose-limbed. John stands a little straighter, chin up as if to impress you. They've both broken out in smiles, though Simon's are only evidenced by the laugh lines you know to look for. It's only as you get close do they zero in on the badge on your shirt.
"I've got this, Susan," you say to your co-worker. "Jacob's on my till. Can you cover?"
Susan wrings her hands. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay and-"
"They're nothing I can't handle," you tell her, cutting off her worried rambles. There's a cheeky glint in your eye as you flick your gaze at your men. You clap your hands together and say, "Right, let's get this settled, then."
Susan takes one quick look between you and the now slightly less intimidating men and heads towards the front of the store.
Once she's out of earshot, John's face breaks into a frown. "What're you doing here, love?" He glances at your name on your chest again. "You work here?" He sounds almost hurt by the revelation. You can tell Simon wants to reach for you, and the only thing stopping him is you working.
You hear heavy footfalls behind you as Johnny's Scottish lilt reaches your ears. "Och, Cap! Ye said ye'd only be a moment. Gaz and I had a hell of a time getting the trolley on its lift ta find ye. How hard is it to buy bon..." His question dies on his lips as you turn around. "Bonnie?" He, too, sounds hurt to find you working here.
You can see Kyle over Johnny's shoulder, confusion written across his features. This is not how you wanted your boys to find out about your job, if you ever wanted them to actually find out. You thought maybe you'd surprise them with tickets to Hereford FC's opening game in a few months. And if they asked how you afforded them, you could handle this conversation then, but it's out of your hands now.
And as much as you don't want to have this conversation, especially not in the middle of the floral department, you can't stop the wide grin at seeing your boys again, home and whole.
"Hi, boys," you say, opening your arms. Disappointed he might be about finding you here, Johnny's no fool. He immediately steps into your embrace, and the others quickly follow suit. You're swallowed up by the smell and feel of them. The hug lasts one minute. Then two. Then they all slowly step back.
You can see the questions and cut them off before they get started. "I have another three hours before I'm off. We can talk at home, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."
John nods first. He recognizes your tone. You won't let them derail you for answers now, and they would be wasting their breath to try. "You heard the lady, lads. Let's get home."
They start to walk away when you tease, "Captain? Was there a reason you were arguing with Susan about the flowers?"
He halts his steps and turns to you, flush creeping up his neck. He brings his hand up to rub it as he says, "Er, I, we, wanted to get ya something nice, but they don't have the same ones as online."
You melt a little, watching the way your men shift nervously behind their captain. You smile softly and reach over, plucking a bouquet of rainbow poms from the rack. "These are what I usually get for myself when you're away."
John takes them gently from your hand and passes them to Gaz to put in the trolley. "We'll see you at home, love," he murmurs, leaning over briefly to kiss your cheek. Simon kisses the top of your head, fabric brushing your hair. Johnny pulls you in for another bruising hug and kisses your other cheek. Gaz puts his hands on your waist, drinking in the sight of you, before taking your hands in his and kissing your palms.
You watch them leave, wondering how you'll make it through the rest of your shift.
Three hours and fifteen minutes later, you cross the threshold of your shared home to the most delicious scents wafting from the kitchen. After slipping your shoes off next to the piles of boots at the door, you follow your nose back to the kitchen and the spread laid out on the large wood-topped island. There's a roast and mushy peas and mashed potatoes and stewed carrots and battered cod and crisps and spinach all surrounding the flowers you'd suggested, nestled in the vase you love most, the Caithness one Johnny'd bought you on your first trip with them to Scotland.
At the table, your men sit, plates made for everyone, waiting on you. They've changed since you saw them. Gone are any traces of fatigues and tactical gear. Instead they're all in casual civvies, truly home for the first time in nearly three weeks. Simon stands as you come in and pulls out your chair, smile on his scarred lips. "Come sit, doll," he tells you, not quite an order.
You look quickly around. "Let me change," you say, tugging at your uniform top. "I won't be but a minute." You back out of the room before they can stop you. You hurry to your bedroom, pulling your top off as you go. Once behind the door, you slip from your trousers into comfortable leggings and a large jumper, one of Kyle's you think.
By the time you make it back to the kitchen, your men are more than a little antsy. Simon's smile is a little strained, Johnny is fidgeting, Kyle keeps glancing between you and John, and John is staring at you. Your chair is still out. He waves a hand at it, and gently says, "Come sit, love." It's couched as request, but you know a command from your lover when you hear it.
You take your seat at the table. "Listen-" you start, but John cuts you off.
"Are we not providing for ya, love?" You see the hurt in his eyes, how much it bothers him to think he, they, aren't doing enough for you.
"Oh, John, dear, no!" you reply, putting your hand over his on the table. "It's not that at all."
"Then what?" Simon asks.
You look at them all, the expectant faces waiting to hear how they failed you. "I get restless sometimes. I love you, and I love our life. I'm happy to take care of the house and make sure you're all fed after a long day. But I wasn't built for sitting around doing nothing. I like people; being home on my own all day can get lonely. Especially when you're deployed. I also like having my own pocket money."
John opens his mouth, and you know what he's about to say, so you continue. "I know you'd give me any money I need or want, but I like having my money. Money I earned myself." You look around at them, willing them to understand. "It's only part time. Helps me keep a little busy and have a little extra to spoil you and me with."
Johnny is frowning, but you see Kyle, head cocked, looking at you as a puzzle. "I think I understand," he says softly. "You were making you way just fine before us, and you gave up everything for us."
At his words, the crease between John's brow deepens, and you're sure he's remembering the job you had, that you'd somewhat enjoyed, when you'd first met them. You'd been working at RAF Lakenheath, living in a cozy flat in Cambridge, near The Backs, when the 141 had been coming through the base after an op. An injury had put Kyle in the med center for a week, and while he could have been transported to Hereford once stable, Laswell had worked it out for the whole team to have some R&R near the base.
You'd quite literally run into John one day, rushing to your office, after which he suggested lunch as an apology. You quickly became close with all four, smitten with them from the start. In turn, they fell hard for you. They wooed you over the course of several weeks, stopping through Lakenheath on deployments to spend some time with you. Six months in and you were completely gone on all four of them, so when they'd asked you to move to Hereford, you did without ever looking back. But it meant giving up the life you'd led.
Somewhere along the way, your happiness overshadowed all you'd left behind. After a few weeks, being home alone while your men worked started to feel isolating. You liked being a little busy, and there weren't enough projects around the house to keep you busy enough. You'd always been independent, but you didn't want to be stuck in a job with long hours anymore. You wanted to be home for your men. So you'd found the job at ASDA.
Kyle reaches over to where you hand is still on John's. "I'm sorry we didn't ask how you were coping us being gone all day," he says. He looks you in the eye as he continues. "I understand wanting to do something, wanting to be a little busy, and if this makes you happy, then I'm all for it, doll." He gives you a small smile and squeezes your and John's hand.
"Gaz is right," Simon rumbles. "We were so happy to have you here we didn't think about what you did all alone all day." He puts a heavy hand on your thigh, the warmth of him seeping through your thin leggings. "'m glad you have something to keep you from getting lonely."
"Sorry, hen," Johnny murmurs, just above a whisper. "We didnae think a' ye enough." You smile widely at him.
"Johnny, you think of me all the time. This isn't about neglect at all!" You try to catch his eye, but he's looking hard at the table in front of him. "You did nothing wrong, love," you tell him gently.
He looks at you, blue eyes bright. "Ye sure?" You've never seen him this nervous before, and you break a little.
"I'm sure love."
He smiles then, a little smile, but it brightens his face and shifts the mood in the room. You look at John who's been surprisingly quiet this whole time.
He's smiling, but it's a little sad. "I know ya said we didn't do anything wrong, but we feel like we did. We didn't notice you were bored, didn't ask if you were lonely." He flips his hand over under yours and threads your fingers with his. "Yer giving us a gift by not blaming us, and we'd be stupid not to take it, even though it feels like yer giving us an out. Thank you." He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly.
"Thank you. I was worried you'd be mad," you admit.
"Never could make us mad with something like this, hen," Johnny reassures you. "I'm sorry we had to spoil your day is all."
You turn back to look at the food on the island. "You didn't spoil my day. You made it. You're home early, and you made such a lovely spread. I think we should tuck in, yeah?"
Simon chuckles. "Point made, doll," he says, scooping a heaping helping of mash onto his fork. The rest take it as a sign to start eating too.
The room is silent save for the sounds of food savored until John pipes up, "Why'd ya come to florals, love? We might have missed ya altogether if not for that."
You giggle. "The sunshine call, John."
"Yeah?" He clearly doesn't understand.
"It's the shop call for a difficult customer. When I'm on shift, it's my job to handle those." You look at each of your lovers in turn. "Seems I've got a knack for dealing with muppets," you tell them with a smirk.
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#nerdygirl answers#cod#poly!141#poly!141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#kyle garrick#johnny mactavish#john price#simon riley#nerdygirl says
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one. two. three. four. five.
After that pool party incident, Sukuna tried his best to stay away from you. But how could he when you're literally everywhere?
Walking into the kitchen in the morning to find you cooking breakfast in one of his oversized shirts that Yuuji must've mistook as his and let you borrow it. The way it barely covered your thighs had him gripping his coffee mug too tight. Fucking sinful.
Running into you in the hallway after your shower, hair wet and skin flushed from the hot water. The scent of your shampoo and body wash lingering in the air long enough for him to get addicted to it even after you're gone.
Sukuna can sense that you're trying to avoid him too.
You started waiting until you hear his bedroom door close before going out of your room. You would sometimes eat your meals alone just to avoid him in the kitchen.
It was driving him insane. He wanted to avoid you, yet he can't stop seeking you out when you're gone from his sight.
He couldn't stop thinking about you, and he hated it. Hated how his body reacted every time you were near. Hated how his eyes followed you whenever you entered a room.
But most of all, he hated how you made him feel things he never felt before.
âYou've been spacing out a lot lately. Everything okay?â Yuuji's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
âShut up.â Sukuna grunts. They were watching Yuuji's favorite movie, yet Sukuna's focus was anywhere but the screen in front of him.
His brother was more perceptive around others, contrary to other people's thoughts. Yuuji noticed his lingering eyes whenever you're around.
Where are you? You aren't home yet.
âShe's sleeping over Nobara's dorm tonight, if that's what you're worried about.â Yuuji mentioned as if he can read thoughts, and watched as his brother's expression darken.
âNot worried.â Liar. Just the mention of you had his chest tighten uncomfortably.
He needed to get his shit together. You were his brother's best friend, for fuck's sake. Off limits. Forbidden. Young. Not his type.
Lies. lies. lies.
One night, Sukuna came home late from work, pissed over a client who tried to lowball him about their tattoo design which he spent fucking hours on.
He found you in the kitchen, humming softly while washing dishes. He went straight for the cupboard, he desperately needs a drink tonight.
âOh, you're home. I saved some food for you in the fridge. Have you eaten dinner yet? I'll heat it up for you.â You turned the faucet off and faced him when a gentle smile on your face.
Even after being rude to you in countless occasions, you still manage to spare him that smile of yours. Fuck, you're too good for him. Add that to the fucking list of reasons why he can't have you.
âAre you looking for liquor? I moved it over the next shelf.â
The sight of you in his space, looking so comfortable and domestic, made something snap inside him.
âCan you stop moving my fucking things around?â he growled.
âI was just cleaning-â
âI don't care what you were doing. This is my house, I want my shit exactly where I left it.â You flinched at his harsh and spiteful tone.
Why did he have to be so mean?
âWhat the fuck is your problem, Sukuna? Why do you hate me so much?â Your voice was barely above a whisper.
Sukuna froze, his jaw clenching. Hate you?
âI stayed out of your way. I avoid bumping into you everyday. I tried to do something nice yet you still look at me like I disgust you. I live like a fucking ghost in this house. So tell me what I've done to make you hate me so much?âYour lips quivered as you rambled on.
You were right. You're like a ghost that haunted him even in his dreams. In his dreams where he can touch you and own you freely, a beautiful nightmare that he doesn't want to end.
As he stares at you, his thoughts became more clear. If only he could actually hate you instead of wanting you so desperately that it made him feel like he was losing his mind.
âI don't hate you.â He said through gritted teeth. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. âThat's the fucking problem.â
âââââââââââââââââââââ
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TTYL, Unless? - Loossemble Hyunjin (ft. ARTMS Heejin)
After you got together with Heejin and Hyunjin, the world conspired to split the three of you apart, making them end up in different groups rather than being in one group like before. The three of you managed, but meeting up became both easier and harderâit was harder to meet both of them together, because their schedules never seemed to overlap, and yet it was easier in a way to meet each of them more often, since their schedules never seemed to overlap. If Heejin was busy touring, Hyunjin would come looking to go on dates. If Hyunjin was busy with her comeback, Heejin would be texting you to come out.
"Yah, what are you thinking about?" Hyunjin pokes you out of your daze. For now it is Heejin's turn to tour, and Hyunjin's resting, the two of you out and about on a quiet cafe date.
"Thinking about you!" You hold her hand a little tighterâyou were in public, so it wouldn't do to draw more attention.
"Not Heejin?"
"When did my girlfriend become the jealous type?"
"Did you forget that Heejin is also your girlfriend?" She digs a nail into your palm, making you hiss at the sting. "But say it again."
"Say what?"
"That I'm your girlfriend." She's blushing, smiling to herself at your words. You pull Hyunjin towards you, hugging her in the middle of the street. "What are you doing!"
"You are my girlfriend, I don't care if people find out."
"Crazy!" But she stays in your embrace. "Let's head back home."
"Is everything okay though? You were never this... worried? Or wary? About Heejin?" The two of you stop by at Hyunjin's favorite bakery.
"No it's just after all that happened... we're spending a lot of time with you, but always separately. I'm worried that you will, you know, compare us, have a preference for one of us."
"Would you believe me if I say I don't?"
"Would Heejin believe you?" You pause for a moment, and Hyunjin takes the chance to sneak an extra pastry on to the tray.
"Yes."
"Don't lie, I know that Heejin is competitive, and you know it too." She grabs another pastry as your punishment for lyingâHyunjin's right, Heejin would definitely want to "win", regardless of the inaneness of the competition.
"Where is this coming from? It's not like we never hung out separately before we all agreed to be together." You sigh and pay for all the pastries.
"Yeah but that's beforeâ" Hyunjin looks around and leans in. "That's before we started doing all of this, unless you were already comparing our bodies before you saw us naked?"
"Of course not!"
"So once you have, don't you have, you know, preferences? And one of us will be closer to your preferences? If you say we have the same figure I will stuff this bread straight down your throat." Hyunjin threatens, and you quickly shut your open mouth.
"I like you both, in different ways, no one is better than the other. How did you define your diet again?"
"What? Oh! I have a seafood diet, I see food, I eat food." Hyunjin cackles at her own bad joke.
"I'm just like that with you. When I see you, I want you." You add with feigned suaveness, sneaking a hand under the table to grab Hyunjin's thigh.
"Yah you are crazy! Eat your bread!" Hyunjin blushes and pushes you off, but you know she likes it.
"Tch, you're the one who kept talking about figures and having preferences."
"Hmph!"
"I need another coffee for these, do you want one?"
"Sure, thank you!" You shake your head as Hyunjin's happy once more, a pastry in each hand and chomping away. "Then we can go home!" She adds, cheeks puffing with bread.
You're lying on the sofa with Hyunjin, lazing the afternoon away watching a movie, when your phone rings.
"Hmm? Oh it's Heejin. Hey Heejin!"
"Oh oppa, is now a good time?"
"Yeah I'm just here with Hyunjin, what's up?"
"Oh umm, I'll just talk to you later then, have a good time with Hyunjin!" The phone is taken out of your hands and is placed on speakerphone.
"Yah, Jeon Heejin. You were going to do phone sex with oppa weren't you?"
"What?" "Yah Kim Hyunjin! How can you just say that?!"
"We talked about it, when we miss you while on tour. She suggested it, right Heejin?"
"Yes."
"I umm, I see." Your throat is suddenly dry. The phone is silent, but Hyunjin does the prodding.
"Do it."
"Really? Do it?" Heejin asks, you can tell she's considering it.
"I want to listen. We've already had sex together, the three of us, phone sex is nothing." Hyunjin kisses you, a hand slipping under your t-shirt. "Ask her what she's wearing."
"W-What are you wearing right now Heejin?"
"Oh, are you sureâ I'm wearing a lace top, and umm, some shorts."
"Are the shorts as tight as the ones you wore on stage?" you blurt out, your mind already going back to when you first saw those fancams. Â "I swear I could see where I should be in those photos." Hyunjin nods her approval, bringing up the pictures on her phone. This is weird but exciting.
"You saw those? Yeah they were really tight, I had to wear something looser the next night."
"Good, wouldn't want anyone else to see."
"Yes, just for you to see." Heejin's voice deepens, she's getting into it too. "What are you wearing oppa? Are your shorts getting tight too?"
"Yeah. I'll help oppa with it though," Hyunjin answers for you. "Let me take off his t-shirt first." She pushes you down on the sofa, putting the phone by your head, making sure Heejin can hear her kissing you sloppily.
"You should take off your top too Heejin," you mumble, pushing your hands beneath Hyunjin's. "Are you wearing underwear?" you ask as you play with Hyunjin over her bra.
"No..."
"So naughty, I wish I could see you topless."
"It's okay, just make Hyunjin take her top off." Hyunjin listens, pulling off her t-shirt and undoing her bra.
"She has now. Should I play with her tits?"
"Yes, I am too," Heejin sighs.
"Tell me what you're doing."
"I'm squeezing them, rubbing my nipples, they're, mm, pretty stiff." Hyunjin lets you sit up and do the same to her, her soft gasps merging with Heejin's over the speaker. "It feels good..."
"It does." Hyunjin agrees. "He's using his teeth, pulling on it a little, ah!"
"How hard is he?" You let out a deep breath as Hyunjin reaches down between your legs.
"Very. What do you want to do?" Hyunjin's breathing deeply too, her voice husky as she asks Heejin.
"I want to stroke him, feel how hard he is in my hands."
"She's stroking me, touch yourself Heejin." You hear the soft "ah" as the image of Heejin slipping her hand beneath her shorts surfaces in your mind.Â
"H-How would you touch me oppa?" You quickly grab the phone and pull Hyunjin to the bedroomâwith more room to maneuver you can touch her as she strokes you.
"Me? I would start slow, rub you over your panties, make sure you are soaking wet before I do anything else." You gently press between Hyunjin's legsâshe's already sticky. Hastily she pushes her shorts off to give you better access.
"Oh yes... What then? Would you take off my panties?" Heejin sighs.
"Not yet." You say sharply, making sure that Heejin listens to you. "I'd tease you further, trace your shape over it, like those tight shorts you wore." Hyunjin whines, a hand on your arm, trying to get you to do more.
"Ah, I won't wear it again. Please?" Hyunjin strokes you faster, more firmly as Heejin begs, working in tandem once more.
"Good, take your panties off."
"Only if you take your underwear off." Soon you, Hyunjin, and Heejin are equally naked.
"Should I use one finger or two?" you ask.
"T-Two."Â
"Ah!" "Mmm!" You hear Heejin's moan in one ear, and Hyunjin's in the other as you slip two fingers into her wet heat.
"So tight, so wet Heejin, I'm going to finger you."
"Yes! Yes do it!" You push deep into Hyunjin, feeling her tense and clench around your digits. You mouth silently to Hyunjin, asking her to tell Heejin what she's feeling.
"So deep in me already, he knows what I like, what we like Heejin. G-Go faster!" You start moving your hand more rapidly, feeling your fingers get wetter. The two of you can hear more of Heejin's moans now, louder and more frequent.
"Dont forget to touch your clit." You make sure your bump against Hyunjin's, and she has to bite back a cry when you do so. There's no muffling on Heejin's end, and her squeal comes through loud and clear.
"Yes oppa! Do more!" To her credit Hyunjin stays quiet, allowing Heejin to focus on herself and you. You feel her breaking down though, her hand on your cock forgetting to stroke you, an arm over her mouth to muffle herself. The phone sex is definitely turning her onâshe's bucking into your hand, flat tummy flexing and tits jiggling slight as she twitches on the bed. You haven't seen Hyunjin quite like this in a while, and that's turning you on, now you want to finish her off properly.
"I'm curling my fingers in you," you utter into the phone, but you're doing it to Hyunjin, and the reaction is immediate.
"Ah!" A sharp yelp that Hyunjin can't help, and on the other end of the phone, an instant reaction from Heejin.
"Yes! Oh, I'm cumming, I'm cumming oppa!"
"Cum for me!" You plunge your fingers even faster into Hyunjin, and she's biting into a pillow, thighs crushing your hand. You watch Hyunjin and listen to Heejin, their orgasms seeming to blend together into something even hotter. Heejin's babbling, moaning incoherently while your fingers get crushed by Hyunjin's pussyâthey seem to be in rhythm, each deep and harsh breath from Heejin in time with Hyunjin's contractions and small waves of slick.
"Oh... that was great oppa." Heejin sighs, and Hyunjin has finally released her bite on the pillow, both of them coming down from strong orgasms. "I really needed that."
"Good, I'm happy." You're too horny to beat around the bush. "I'm going to fuck Hyunjin now, so I'll talk to you laterâ"
"Wait, can I listen?"
"You want to listen?"
"Yeah, you don't have to talk to me, I just want to, er, hear you finish."
"I'm not going to be quiet," Hyunjin speaks up. "You know what he does to me."
"Yeah Iâ Fuck I'm already imagining it happening to me. Just pretend I'm not here." You hear the rustle of sheets, and the tiniest of gasp as Heejin tries and fails to keep quiet. You don't care though, as Hyunjin's stroking you again, making you aware of just how hard you are.
"Lay on your front." You grab the phone and place it by Hyunjin's head before getting on top of her prone form. "You know what he does to me huh? What else have you and Heejin said about me?" You nuzzle her neck, hearing her gasp as you push your head, then your tip, and then your shaft, into her.
"Hnngh! Sensitve, sensitive!" Hyunjin yields to you, albeit a little too fast. "Don't move!"
"Sensitive? You mean your song?" You earn a light smack for that.
"Of course not, I mean I'm sensitive, because I just came!"
"And I haven't!" Hyunjin groans. "But I'll give you a short break, what have you and Heejin been talking about?"
"What you like, what we like, what you do that we like, mmm!" You bottom out in her, and she's gripping you tightly.
"And what do you like Hyunjin?" True to your word it is a short break, and you can't help but begin moving, for now settling for rocking back and forth in her. "Better answer fast before I start fucking you faster."
"I like it when you kiss my neck, yes right there!" You leave a dark red mark over her favorite spot. "I like it when you touch me all over, show me that you love my body."Â
"Of course I do." You squeeze everything you love about Hyunjinâher neck, her shoulders, her tits, her midriff, her hips. You squeeze her thighs with yours, making sure she's even tighter around you.
"Fuck, I love how tight you are, Hyunjin!" You put more force into your thrusts, slamming down on her prone form, her butt and thighs rippling when you do so. On instinct Hyunjin's raising her hips slightly, letting you press them back down on the bed, letting gravity get you even deeper into her.
"Y-You're so big, oh god, mmm, mm, mm! Hnngh Heejin he's doing it again!"Â
"What?" You slow down again, distracted by how different she sounds. "Am I hurting you?"
"No, don't stop, just nngh, keep doing that!" Hyunjin's groaning, or perhaps grunting is the more accurate description, with every thrust, every time you put all your weight into her hips.
"Doing what?" You want answers, but with the way you continue to fuck her Hyunjin's quickly becoming incapable of responding.
"You're pushing against her womb, her umm, cervix," Heejin answers for Hyunjin. "When you go really deep you sometimes touch mine tooâ" Heejin cuts herself off with a sighâshe's touching herself again.
"Is that good?" Hyunjin freezes up when you nudge against it again, and you force yourself to slow down. "Please tell me if I should stop."
"No, it's really good, really really good, just not too hard." You cup her chin, tilting her head back and off the bed. It must feel amazing for Hyunjin, because she's gurgling when you sink deep into her again, nudging against the little resistance that's driving her mad. "Rightâ Uh! There!"
"What about... here?" You adjust your angle slightly, rubbing against her more familiar g-spot. Hyunjin coos, clearly loving it too. But you don't even have to ask when you do both on the same thrust, sliding your head against her g-spot before you drive your hips forward, nudging the entrance to her womb firmly.
"Oh my god, keep doing that, keep doing that!" The words rush out of Hyunjin, and her legs are kicking beneath you. "I love it!"
"What do you love about it?" You've pushed her legs apart slightly, giving yourself more room to plant your knees and really fuck her. You kiss the left side of her neck, then the rightâyou're going to leave a necklace of hickeys across her skin.
"That you're hnnghâ filling me completely, stuffing me so full, ah!"
"Like your favorite pastries? Full of filling?"
"Yes, the best ones, where it's all meat, there's no empty space, and when I try to squeeze you... Fuck you're so hard in me!" Hyunjin's whimpering, and her attempted constrictions around you just drive you to fuck her harder. Your hips bounce off hers, the sound of skin-on-skin action extra satisfying as Hyunjin tries to push back against you, willing you to shove yourself all the way into her. Each successive thrust gets faster and strongerâHyunjin's creaming around you, streaks of white coating your shaft as she's building to her own massive orgasm. She's as hot as a freshly toasted loaf of bread, warm and satisfying as you plant another kiss on the back of her neck. You've never seen Hyunjin lose it quite like this, the rapid and soft grunts telling you just how fucked to the limit she is, and soon the desire to fill her with your own cream becomes too much.
"Fuck, going to cum!" you growl, hugging her possessively, arm around her neck.
"Do it! Do it in me!" You pull Hyunjin off the bed as your hips slam down one final time, forcing her into an impressive arch as you bottom out and then pump out your load straight into her. Hyunjin cums in the very next instant, the shotgun blast of warmth right against her womb sending her eyes rolling into her head, her breath stopping as she climaxes powerfully beneath you. Everything about her short circuits and stops working; everything except her pussy, squeezing you like a piping bag, getting all the baby batter she can get out of you. After watching and listening to Hyunjin and Heejin get off earlier, your own orgasm is even stronger and longer, and you collapse on top of her, holding Hyunjin down as you rut into her, delivering, pumping, squeezing, oozing, everything you have into her.
Over the phone you hear Heejin, or rather, you hear Heejin's pussy, sopping wet and squelching as her hand is hard at work getting herself off, and with a deep-chested cry you hear her cum shortly after. You kiss Hyunjin lovingly, keeping yourself in her until you hear the rustle of Heejin picking up the phone again.
"Thanks oppa, sorry if that was too loud at the end."
"No, we finished just before you."
"Yeah, he came a lot in me."
"You two don't hide anything do you?"
"S-Show me."
"Fine, you too then." You're dumbfounded as Hyunjin grabs her phone and points it between her legs, but you see that she's captured your state as wellâThere's bits of Hyunjin's cream all over your cock and crotch, and right next to your cock, where there should've been the pink slit of Hyunjin's pussy, all that's seen in the photo is a strip of white, your cum pouring out of her like an overfilled bun.
"You're going to send that to her?"
"Of course, she asked for it," Hyunjin says, like it's the most logical answer ever.
"Heejin delete it after you see it, what if you lose your phone on tour?"
"I will, we're careful about that. Sending you the pic Hyunjin." Her phone dings, and you're treated to the sight of Heejin laying back on her pillows, looking utterly satisfied as she spreads her pussy lips for you, droplets of slick splattered between her legs.
"I'm going to delete it once oppa's done looking!" Hyunjin teases.
"Wait Iâ" Her eyes twinkle with mischiefâshe got you. "Fine, delete it, that's the smart thing to do."
"Not like you won't get to see Heejin like that when she comes back."
"Yeah, I can't wait for you to do that to me, it sounded really hot."
"It is! It's like he was fucking myâ" You snatch the phone from Hyunjin before it gets any more bawdy.
"Alright I am not listening to you two talk about me. You should go sleep."
"Mmmhmm now I'm all drained. Thanks oppa, I'll talk to you later. Bye Hyunjin!"
"Yup bye!" Finally alone again Hyunjin cuddles against you, not caring about the load draining out of her. "That was really hot. I am totally going to call you while you're with Heejin."
"What? Why?"
"So we can have phone sex threesome, three phone sex? Phonesome? It's only fair that I get to listen in."
"And how would you know when I'm with Heejin? She just happened to call at the right time."
"I'll get Heejin to tell me, she has to, we have to have the same experiences. You need to do her in the same position, and then tell us who felt better."
"Sometimes I can't tell if you two are competing or cooperating."
"Yes."
Some weeks later, you're in bed with a half-naked Heejin, hands ready to slip off her panties.
"Wait." She picks up her phone and quickly calls someone. "Hyunjin, we're doing it."
"Oh thanks, hi oppa!" Hyunjin's voice comes through the phone.Â
"Are you serious?"
"Yes yes."
"We really need to have a talk about just how much we're sharing."
"TTYL, FHRN!"
"What are you even saying?"
"Talk to you later, fuck Heejin right now!" You turn to find Heejin already naked and prone on the bed.
Fine, you guess you'll do as Hyunjin says.
"Hnngh!"
A/N: Wanted to do a "TTYL" related story, but never got around to it until after Loossemble :( Kinda wanted to do the other scene from Heejin's perspective, but eh it would've been too samey, I leave it to your imagination lol. Thanks for reading! Have one more Hyunjin pic
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Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)
Female reader
Chapter 6- The mission is non-existent
TW: School shooting
______________________________
Damian looks around the room, it feels more like an apartment rather than a room
"No wonder the miss rarely comes down for food, with the amount of kitchen appliances here she'd rival a small town restaurant..." Alfred chuckles, he looks at the expensive, top grade materials
"There's nothing in the fridge though..." Jason grumbles, Duke is asleep beside you holding your hand and Bruce admires the scene "That's enough, stop rummaging through your sister's stuff"
He looks around your room, pictures of your friends, you at parties, you at school events, how the fuck?, you held your own charity gala? How??? Where did you get the money? How did this not reach him?
"hng- ow- What the fuck!?" You wake up and you see the cast of the Addams family surrounding you
"Don't try to overdo it" Dick helps you sit up
"Huh?"
Reader! You are fucked, everyone's hatred meter has gone down to 10%, EVEN DAMIAN AND JASON'S METER
You shift further away from Dick, his gaze turns sad sensing your discomfort with him, he really needs to change that
"Is there something you need?" Duke asks, he holds your hand tight, "Do you need us to do something?" Asked Tim
"Can you all please leave my room..." You say and you see that Bruce hesitates "Are you sure? You might need assistance?"
Reader, make them go away, it keeps on dropping! If it reaches zero you'll fail!
"There's no need, it was just fear gas..."
_____________________________
School was absolute shit.
Damian had pulled you away from your friends to eat with you during recess, you'd also found out Tim bribed the principal to switch your classes so you'd have the same as his
Some of your friends are annoyed that your siblings are meddling, they've never eaten lunch with you before? Why now? And others are cooing, they've never seen you interact with your siblings, and the fact your gentler with your friends than your siblings makes them happy
Your teachers are grateful that you manage to tame Damian
"(Name)! I watched your violin concert last night! You were amazing!" Says a student, you smile "Thank you!"
Then the student's mood shifts "I heard that the route you were taking home was attacked by both the Joker and Scarecrow right? Are you okay?" They ask, the surrounding students get curious but don't necessarily engage
"yeah... I'm fine" you say, you're trying to think of ways to differentiate the topic, the student gasps "Oh but I saw on the news that you were one of scarecrow's victims! And that you inhaled the fear gas..." She says as she smirks, "I don't really want to talk about it, and I'm fine..." You answer
"Oh but-" Damian grabs her arm and pushes her away from you "She says she doesn't want to talk about it? Why are you pushing?! Are you really worried or you just wanted gossip?" He snarls
You see the girl wince but smiles anyway "ah right... Sorry"
And then it hit... An attack? It hits your school so fast, the students scream and panic, "Everyone out!" Shouted a security guard, you hear a bunch of gunshots in the halls and the screams from that direction become quieter until it stopped completely see
Are you serious?
A school shooting.
Never in your original years and reincarnated years combined have you ever been so fucking scared and pissed off at the same time
First and foremost, you just survived the mother fucking scarecrow, now you have to survive guns?
Damian holds your hand and runs away with you, "What are you doing!? You're supposed to save people!?' you whisper-yell to him, he gets you to a hidden area and hands you a small dagger he hid in his socks, he looks at you worryingly "Stay here, wait till I get back-"
"They've been apprehended!" yelled a student, "Well... There's no need for that huh?", slowly you and Damian walk out of the room to see what happened? Did another bat get them already? Was it Tim?
Then you see her.
In a hero costume, trapping the shooters with what seem to be magical ropes, her costume design looked like it was stolen from my hero academia
"There's no need for all of you to worry, for I Protagonist has taken care of them, they'll be handed over to the police" she says
"Did she really name herself 'Protagonist'?" Tim comes from behind you looking baffled at the name choice
"At least she saved us" you say
_____________________________
Hey so do you guys remember that one comment about the family couch on chapter 2? And how all the years of living there you never sat on it? Well after days of the family trying to get you to watch a movie with them on the couch, you confessed you feel weird about sitting somewhere sacred to them
You come home after volunteering at a soup kitchen that the family couch is gone, replaced by a new pristine couch with comfortable pillows
Stephanie smiles at you "You're back! Wash up, the family is watching a movie" mixed in her voice a tone of dominance, you can't say no
You find yourself huddled up, you feel yourself sweating as Tim curls up on you and Cass is leaning on your shoulder, Dick hand you the remote "You pick" she says
You scroll for a few moments and you feel the family get a bit impatient, so you click on the nearest movie you find
Bad idea.
It was a movie about a dog being abandoned by their owner in a hike and as they try to find their way home they die
You're in shambles, you've watched people die in movies, either terminal illnesses, a series of unfortunate events, murder, you've cried to some, some didn't phase you
But a sad dog movie?
You are wrecked, Jason hands you your 3rd tissue pack, your inconsolable, you hate animals getting sad endings, the. Titus licks your hand, Damian brought him to console you, while Bruce chooses another movie, this time he chose a dog movie with a happy ending, you hugged Titus the whole night
It happened to you before, when you and your friends were in a really lengthy assembly, they fell asleep on your shoulders, you made it your mission to not move at all, you didn't want to wake them, you liked that they learned on you for comfort
But Tim and Cass sleeping on you, you have no idea what to do, your instincts that you got because of your friends tell you to stay still so they'd be comfortable
Another part of you is screaming that if you don't move the hatred meter will go down
And go down it did
Everyone is down to 2%, you can't let it get to zero, you can't
Bruce looks at you "(Name) about your upcoming 16th birthday-"
He sees you asleep, he smiles and admires his children
Matter of fact you were just pretending to be asleep, if you hear another birthday party plan you'll die, last year you had that Damian excuse, but now? You're out of reasons to not have that stupid party
So you sleep...
Oh well look at all of you...
What a happy family.
You're done for.
_____________________________
Damian: I need to place (Name) in a safe space before helping
Protagonist: the job is done
Tim: Tacky fucking name
_____________________________
@jellyedkazoo @vanilliona @shyenemyperson @popboomcha @plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist @justatimidcreator
#warmisekaidc#dc universe#dcu#yandere#yandere batfam#yandere platonic#yandere batman#yandere batboys#yandere barbara gordon#yandere stephanie brown#yandere cassandra cain#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake#yandere dick grayson#yandere damian wayne#yandere duke thomas#yandere bruce wayne
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Training for Two
Chapter 3. New Trails

Masterlist
Summary: You and Riley take the beaten path to defeat boredom. Simon realizes that the seed of his new obsession has been planted.
Warnings: mild cursing, obsessive behavior
Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.
You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.
You decided to phone a friend.
"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.
"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."
"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."
You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."
"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"
"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."
"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"
You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."
"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."
You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"
"You know it! Nina's coming too."
You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."
"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."
"She'd better be. Love you!"
The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...
Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.
"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.
She sighed and looked away.
Maybe it was time for a walk.
"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.
"Fancy a walk?" You asked.
She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."
On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.
"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.
You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"
She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.
Oh, right. Military dog.
"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.
For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?
You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.
Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.
"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"
She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.
"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"
She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"
Simon sat stoically on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.
Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?
He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.
"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.
"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.
"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"
Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."
"Who'd ye get?"
"What's it to you?"
"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"
"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.
He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.
But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?
Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.
...
Fuck.
He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...
He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.
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ZUKO â° 5:36
NOTE. Implied that reader and Zuko are engaged, and reader is a woman in this one!
âRelax,â you whispered, nudging his side. âYouâre clenching your jaw.â
âIâm not,â he muttered, though he immediately loosened it. âPeople are staring.â
âTheyâre always staring,â you said breezily. âBut right now theyâre more interested in the fresh chili sesame buns over there, I promise.â
Zuko glanced over and saw a baker pulling golden, round buns from a clay oven, steam curling in the last golden slants of sunlight. His stomach made a small, treacherous sound.
You grinned. âHungry?â
âIâm fine,��� he said.
âYouâre lying.â
âIâm managing,â he corrected.
You were already pulling him toward the stall, the ring on your finger cool against his arm. The sensation sends a small flutter to his chest, like a butterfly occupying the space without rent. âYouâre getting a bun.â
He opened his mouth to protest, but you had already waved at the vendor. âHi, Auntie Yin! Two sesame buns, pleaseâand an extra one with chili if theyâre still warm?â
The older woman squinted, then lit up with recognition. â[Name], youâre back! And you brought your prince again.â
Auntie Yin's husband cleared his throat. âIsnât it Firelord, technicallyââ
âPfft,â Auntie Mei waved him off with a flour-dusted hand. âNot when youâre standing in my bread line, young man.â
You laughed, leaning into Zuko as you accepted the little bundle of warm bread. âYou see why I come back here?â
Just as he was about to hand in some coins, you had stopped his hand mid-way. He looked at you with a small pout, definitely confused.
âZuko, no.â
âButââ
âWeâre going to fight over this, so no.â
âI donât like arguing with you,â he murmurs.
You pat his hand solemnly. âI know,â you say. âSo Iâm paying. End of story.â
He didnât answer anything else until you raised the bun for him to take the first bite. It was crisp on the outside, soft and buttery in the middle, with little black sesame seeds clinging to his lips, the spice just right to not overpower the actual buttery taste. He closed his eyes briefly.
âI remember this,â he said. âI used to sneak out with my uncle, and weâd get these. He used to sayââ His voice caught slightly, swallowing with a pleased nod. ââhe used to say the best food in the Fire Nation was always on the street, never behind palace walls.â
Your smile softened.
âHe was right.â
You wandered deeper into the market, weaving between stalls draped with silks, lanterns, and every kind of fried thing imaginable. People bumped into each other without apology, children shouted as they chased each other with little wooden dragons, and somewhere nearby, a flute player added a gentle melody to the thick scent of roasted peanuts and smoke.
Zuko tilted his head slightly. âYou know all of them.â
You shrugged. âGrew up here. Before my family moved to the coast, we lived two blocks down.â
âWait, really?â
âMhm. That stall with the yellow lanterns? That used to be where I bought pickled plums on my way home from school. And that guyââ you pointed to a tall man flipping meat over a roaring fireââused to give me extra sticks if I said please and didnât rat him out to his wife for snacking while he cooked. Kind guy, really. Just had a habit of snacking, not that I can blame him because they're really good.â
Zuko looked at you with something like awe. âYou never told me any of this.â
âI like keeping some mystery,â you teased, passing him a skewer of fire-grilled mushrooms glistening with glaze. âTry this one. You used to like mushrooms, right?â
âI still like mushrooms.â
âThen donât make that face and eat it.â
He bit into it, reluctantly. The glaze was spicy, sweet, and smoky all at once. He blinked. âOkay, fine. Thatâsâreally good.â
âTold you.â
You two kept walking, you pausing every so often to wave or chat or haggle for something smallâan herbal tea, a dumpling wrapped in banana leaf, or dried fruit you tucked into the folds of your sleeve for later. Zuko stayed mostly quiet, watching you, feeling the tension in his chest unwind inch by inch. Your laugh was infectious, the kind that made other people smile without realizing it. More than once, he found himself smiling too, caught off guard by the sound.
At one point, you dragged him over to a table surrounded by children and old men playing tile games.
â[Name], my girl!â one of them called, holding up a tile. âStill cheating at dragon tiles?â
âOnly when you let me win,â you said with a wink.
Zuko stood beside you, bemused. âYouâve played dragon tile in public?â
âShe won in public,â one of the elders cackled. âTook my whole snack allowance for the week.â
You handed over a few coins with a mock-guilty face. âHere, I owe you for that.â
âIsnât there a law that states itâs illegal to play mahjong in public?â
...
"I don't know, is there?"
Before he could dwell on the thought for too long, you had already been ushering Zuko to the next stop. âYouâve been in more street fights than I have.â
âYouâd be surprised what people will bet when they think a girl in ribbons doesnât know what sheâs doing.â
âI think I married a con artist.â
You gave him a pleased smile. âTook you this long to figure that out?â
You rounded a quieter corner of the market as the last of the sun dipped behind the rooftops. Lanterns glowed in the gathering dusk, and music trickled through the air. You led him to a little bench tucked between two carts, one selling sticky rice and the other spiced nuts. You flopped down with a sigh, tugging him beside you.
For a while, you two just sat.
Zuko leaned back, watching the lanterns sway in the breeze.
âThis was⌠good.â
You bumped your shoulder against his. âYou donât always have to be Firelord, you know.â
âI kind of do,â he said, but it was quiet.
âYou kind of donât. Not with me, at least.â
He turned to look at you. âI donât think I ever realized how much I missed this kind of quiet.â
You hummed. âThatâs what Iâm here for. To remind you.â
Zuko hesitated for a moment, then rested his hand on yours, lacing your fingers together, his finger idly playing with the ring on yours. It's nice, he thinks, just being with you like this. The market was bustling around you, but for a moment, it all fadedâjust a man and his beloved, full of street food and soft lantern light, sharing a bench and a memory and the kind of peace he was still learning to let himself have.
SEUMYO Š 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
#âšđš đ˛đď¸ęÖśÖ¸Ö˘ ʞʞ#zuko x reader#zuko x you#zuko x y/n#zuko x fem!reader#zuko fluff#zuko drabble#zuko imagine#atla x reader#atla fluff#atla drabble#atla zuko#prince zuko#atla imagine
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that isn't very holy of you :/
Yandere church boy x gn!reader
It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread đş I'll fix this when I have the time
Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention

âď¸ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area
âď¸ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces
âď¸that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter
âď¸your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday
"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"
âď¸ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention
âď¸ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching
"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"
âď¸david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph
âď¸after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile
"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"
âď¸you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal
âď¸growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...
âď¸he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?
âď¸he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...
âď¸nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you
âď¸ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...
âď¸if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..
âď¸if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?
"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'
#queenie ocs#yandere x darling#queenie writes#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere male#yandere male x reader#ocs#male yandere#Yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x y/n#yandere oc x you#Yandere boyfriend#Yandere church boy x reader#David the church boy#yandere blog#tw yandere#yandere boy#yandere community#yandere thoughts
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hellooo <3
can i request a lil something for hotch about that one trend on tiktok âcalling my bf my husband to see his reactionâ thxx!
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship warnings: talks about marriage + commitment a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 650
Aaronâs confusion is palpable when he watches you prop your phone up by the corner of the car so that the front camera faces the both of you. Heâs well aware of how you make videos of yourself to post on the internet â itâs actually how Penelope set the two of you up â but heâs never really been in any of the videos youâve posted. The two of you are just going on a fast food trip and as soon as you step into the car, he finds himself incredibly underdressed. Granted, you always look lovely, but you still look far too overdressed to go to a drive-through.Â
âAre we going somewhere after this?â He asks slowly, his eyes raking over your figure and the way you fix up your hair.Â
âNo, honey, I just wanted to dress up.â You smile at him, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek.Â
He frowns, a stark contrast to the brilliant blush on his cheeks and the redness of his ears. âThis seems like a plot.â
âNo plot,â you laugh again and turn to your camera. âGuys, my husband thinks that Iâm plotting something. Can you believe that?â
Aaronâs brain short circuits as soon as the words register. His fingers go lax on the steering wheel and his jaw unhinges. Heâs staring at you like youâve got three heads and his blush travels all the way down his chest. He likes the sound of that. An entire lifetime with you flashes before his eyes and all of a sudden thereâs a ridiculously wide smile on his face and his eyes are crinkled at the corners.
âYouâre beautiful.â
Youâre giggling. A hand over your mouth and your eyes have lit up with mirth. He spares a glance at the camera and he manages a small groan, covering his face with one hand in an effort to shield his reputation. Youâre still laughing quietly, although your own cheeks are hot from his breathless compliments.Â
âWas this all just for a video?â Aaron asks, moving his free hand to your knee and squeezing. âSweetheart, thatâs cruel.â
âNo, it isnât! Itâs just a silly video, Aaron, itâs not cruel,â You say through a smile, and you stop recording and pocket the phone. âYou reacted really nicely though, Iâm sure the video will do well.â
âDo other people not react well?â He asks, concerned. He doesnât really want to think about how other boyfriends react to their significant other calling them âhusbandâ, especially when he canât imagine ever having a life without you in it.Â
You shrug as you respond, âone guy didnât let his girlfriend finish her sentence before he was yelling that he âisnât her husbandâ. Which is true, but he responded really quickly and really seriously that it didnât seem like a joke. I donât know how they are in real life though, so it could have been staged.â
His concern turns into one of mortification, mainly for the couple. âI donât understand how someone could get into a relationship and have no end in mind.â
That alone is enough to have you swooning, and he leans over to kiss your forehead. Youâre beaming at him, almost slyly, and he brushes your hair out of your face.Â
âWe should go somewhere nice,â He decides, sitting back in his seat. He puts the car into drive. âYouâre too pretty to go to a drive-through.â
Youâre laughing again as he starts driving in the direction of your favourite Italian place, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. You donât know about the velvet ring box hidden underneath the driversâ seat.Â
Two weeks later, the video you recorded garnishes a whopping 23.6 million views, pinned beside another with a ring as the thumbnail. That video has a terrifying 43.9 million views, and Aaron is not spared any teasing.Â
reblogs are always appreciated !
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[ req? yes / no ]
đŚđđđĄđ ââââ haechan really loves the milkmaid dress
( 寞 ) lee haechan + fem. reader wc. 0.6k genre smut ¡ contains! public sex , oral ( f ) mature content. / back to library
you didnât have to tell haechan a reason why you wanted to do anything; you wanted to get dressed up nicely, go on a picnic and take pictures, he was ready â but here you stood , in this dress. he wanted nothing than to stay home with you in bed. âbabe what do you think?â
you bought this dress specifically for this occasion; you saw that the milk maid dress were trending on tiktok and you decided to get one for the picnic. âitâs pretty right , and they make my boobs look good no?â of course they did , that was his problem now. âyou look nice like always.â he watched you tie it , only accentuating your boobs more. âshould i wear sandals or heels?â
he managed to pull himself together; finishing getting ready so you guys could go enjoy your picnic. he set everything up while you laid out all the food nice enough to take a bunch of pretty pictures , which you did with the help of your boyfriend who was mesmerized , you were the most beautiful thing in the world to him. âno you canât post these , i wonât allow people to look at you.â you laughed , he smiled at you. âstop it.â you grabbed your phone out his hand. âseriously how will i love knowing there are other men out there who are perceiving you?â
you two enjoyed the food you made; feeding each other and laughingâ it was such a good time; you even decided to stay a little while longer and enjoy the sun, it was a pretty quiet and secluded area so there were no interruptions; perfect for haechan who was currently going through it, you just looked to good in the dress. âbaby.â you looked down at your boyfriend who was already laying in between your legs. âyes hyuck.â you ran your fingers through his locks. âi love this dress so much , you look so pretty.â
sighing as you scratched his scalp lightly. âthank you baby , wore it just for you.â that made his cock twitch. âwell fucking thank you because you look good.â he turned around , now hovering over you. âh-hyuck.â he pulled you into a kiss. âfuck baby iâve been turned on ince we got here , this fucking dress.â his hands coming up to your boobs. âthese , love these pretty titties so bad.â you bit your lip. âhy-hyuck were in public.â you said , but that did stop him from putting his hands up the slit of the dress. âthatâs not stopping your pretty pussy from being wet.â
thatâs how you found yourself biting down on your lip; the man in between your legs, licking and sucking at your folds. âfu-fuck haechan.â you moaned , he pulled away, his lips wet. âso so noisy baby , people are gonna hear you.â he whispered. âit-it feels good.â his finger circled your clit. âi know , but you donât want people to think you're a nasty slut getting off in public, do you?â he pushed his fingers inside; covering up what would be a moan with a kiss, curling his fingers inside , your back arching against your will. âyou donât listen do you? should i stuff my cock in your mouth to keep you from being loud?â
you felt yourself about to cum. âyouâre gonna cum?â he smirked. âye-yes.â you gasped. âfuck hyuck iâm gonna cum.â he curled his fingers one last time , scratching that one spot that had you seeing stars as you came. âthatâs it , make a mess on my fingers.â his cock pressed against your thigh. âfuck iâm so hard.â he groaned , removing his fingers, putting them to his lips , tasting you with a hum. âi need to fuck you.â
he pulled away; âletâs go back to the car.â he said , taking your panties, putting them in his back pocket. âyou wonât be needing those.â he smirked. âletâs get this cleaned up so we can go.â he said âquickly because with this dress we might not even make it to the car.â
âi might just take you right here with everyone hearing how much of a whore you are for me.â
Šď¸LUVYENI
#nct dream fanfic#nct dream fic#nct dream smut#nct dream hard thoughts#nct dream hard hours#nct dream fics#nct dream x female reader#nct dream x reader#lee haechan smut#haechan smut#haechan hard thoughts#haechan hard hours#lee haechan x reader#haechan fanfic
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