#i'm so sorry for this i just have SO many thoughts about this and had to get them all down

[orphee-aux-enfers]

@miggyluv your post is singlehandedly helping combat the last 510 and a bit days.

Non obligatory ramble under the cut but in short form: thank you so much for giving me a little bit of faith back in humanity.

My spouse is a UK citizen. I have lived about half of my life here via various set-ups. I l love the UK and thought it was my favourite place I'd ever lived, though I've yet to actually meet residency requirements due to visa types/tiers.

My current visa started 01 October 2023. Due to the holidays, we delayed our return from visiting family back to the UK, after a few months, away until 13 October 2023. Then 7 October happened. We were afraid to fly but needed to return or I'd forfeit my visa.

Arriving in the country was tragic in many ways. It was my spouse and I, and a bunch of shell-shocked, visibly Jewish people swamping Heathrow. We all looked so downtrodden, even the children who were the only people to smile at my spouse and I (other than a very excited border control agent who had never personally seen my current visa). Adults were trying to pretend that if we all just ignored each other we'd be less noticeable. I think it just made us all more miserable.

But, we arrived back in a place we'd called home for a While, sad, grieving, but we at first saw a lot of support for both sides initially -- and then it shifted. And since late October 2023, has ramped up, including our synagogue being regularly vandalised and protested. We no longer attend due to risk.

We lost most friends in January 2024 when we finally broached the subject with them and received that we were "far right" for supporting both an Israeli and a Palestinian state (aka a two state solution, historically something considered moderate). We've moved to a new town now, to escape the weekly to daily protests which could become at times quite hostile and now have escalated to full Holocaust inversion on a daily basis.

In our new flat, we've switched to DVDs and officially do not pay for a licence which funds the BBC, because of the most recent issues. I personally am bereft about this as the BBC was how I was taught to read the news, as a reliable global news source to compare back to. I don't trust them for anything, not now. So hearing it from you, too, not just other Jews? Revolutionary to my world view. I'm so sorry it comes with what Jews face for questioning the BBC for you as well. It isn't easy, and especially when it's your family, it's especially difficult. I think for me this makes your post all the more meaningful.

I was genuinely beginning to think no one would grow positively, only negatively, on this issue. I've experienced even British Jews refuse to engage with us because we are Mizrahi to them (though we're a mix due to a mix of heritage), and Mizrahi means Israeli to specifically young British Jews, and this is, to a small amount of them, apparently the most heinous evil.

Your attitude seems rare, or is rare in my life, and it is so, so meaningful to see. So, this is all to say, genuinely thank you for giving me this little bit of faith back. I had lost it, and I have needed it desperately, especially in the last few days.

I stopped wearing my Star of David. You've inspired me to try again in our new town. Thank you for that, too.

The moment for thinking “what would I have done in Germany before and during Hitler’s reign” is over. Look back over the past two years. What did you do? What did you think and feel?

Did your opinion about Jews change?

If you went from supporting all Jews to thinking that a least some Jews, (namely “Zionists” or “Israelis”) deserve suffering, exile, and/or death, then you fell for modern antisemitic propaganda, and you would’ve fallen for it in Nazi Germany, too.

Maybe you would blink if the police today started rounding up the Jews in your neighborhood, or smashing synagogues, or arresting Jews off the streets. But would you feel better about it if they call them Zionists or Israelis? They’re not arresting “good Jews”, they’re arresting Zionists, to make them pay for their crimes.

It’s not too late to fix that, though. You can come back from being sucked into antisemitism. You can do better going forward.

[modernquackfare]

How about Simon having a wife that is a toymaker and makes plushies. Wife!reader comes to the base and gives each of the tf 141 a plushie that looks like them. All of them gets one… except Ghost

Needles to say, he’s very upset, all day, that he didn’t get one.

Only when he gets home, he sees plushies of himself and the reader on the bed

A/N: okay omg i'm so so sorry this has taken forever but I've lost my draft three times 😭 luckily i wasn't TOO far along writing/had it copied but HERE U GO <33

Ghost x Fem!Reader - Toymaker Wife

For such a special day, you come prepared. It's the first time you're setting foot on Spec Gru's European base, thanks to your husband's insistence on security and containment—whatever that means. After much begging and many strategically missed video calls, Simon finally extends an invitation.

It's a cold, concrete world, Simon tells you. Nothing like you, love, or so he says. Does he think being a toymaker for work is synonymous with an inability to handle a few more military men than you already have? It's hard to believe that anyone on base could be more threatening or deadly than Simon himself.

Or Ghost, as they call him here. It's a little funny—reminiscent of middle schoolers that roleplay wolves named Luna or Rebel, but he'd have your head if you ever say such a thing, regardless of how true it might be. You've considered making him a wolf-ear headband just to prove a point and laugh at his furrowed expression. You're sure that his friends, those large men and women in the photo he let you keep, would find it equally funny.

"Sergeant Gaz, Captain Price, Sergeant Soap…” You count, knocking each handheld plush into your bag. It feels just a little childish, showing up to a military base with a pack full of toys-but in your defense, they're the product of your profession and adorable. Each is handmade to recreate the likeness of every member of Task Force 141. They'll probably like the gifts, if Simon's description of each's personality is accurate. Soap's boyish charm, Gaz's calm demeanor, and Price's warm, but dry sense of humor—that's something you can work with.

***

"It's—is this a mini me? This is braw, you've nailed it, lass." Soap lifts his plush into the air, as if holding a newborn babe to the sun. "Down to the scars. I'll be."

You can't help the ripple of a laugh when beside him, Gaz similarly examines his miniature self. "Not bad," he breathes, wiggling the doll's arms as if to make it dance. "Not bad at all. What a handsome fellow."

Soap lifts his doll, moving its head as if it were speaking for him in a poor attempt at ventriloquism "Finely crafted, maybe. Handsome? Well, that's up for—"

"Well, pass yours on over then, let's see that Yule log you call a mohawk," Gaz sneers back, matching Soap's doll's movements with his own.

It's a successful introduction, you think! Simon watches on in silence, loving warmth evident in his eyes as he does. He's not dragging you away and shipping you back home, so things must be going well—as silent and distant as he's being.

"Do you like them?” You ask, hands folded in your lap.

Price fidgets with his, admiring the tiny boonie hat that you've included, small strips of Velcro lining the bottom to adhere the hat to the head. "Never thought I'd ever be the owner of my own doll," he murmurs. "Got the hat just right, didn't you? Spot on."

"Aye, but don't leave it lying about," Soap grins, making his doll trot on over and speak in pitched up tones. “That hat of yours might just disappear. I've got hair too, Cap'."

"Yeah, hair that needs covering."

"Oh, bolt, ya dobber."

Amidst the light chatter of your newfound friends in Simon's comrades, you glance over at the man. There your husband stands, arms crossed tight against his chest. He's got that look—definitely pouting under that mask of his, as much as he protests, saying that it isn't pouting, it's brooding. The others seem to take notice of your wandering gaze, though, and suddenly all eyes are on Simon and his very obvious lack of a personalized doll.

"Don't look so solemn, Ghost," Gaz grins cheekily. "You've almost got me feeling bad for you. You're the one with the dollmaker for a wife, mate.

Simon doesn't respond. His dark gaze, gentle brown eyes hardened into rocks, finds Gaz. Shut it, he seems to say without even opening his mouth.

That grey cloud seems to follow him throughout the day. Convivial conversation with his other friends on base falls flat when the spotlight falls on him, his responses limited to a scant "Hmm," or "Uh-huh," or even a quiet look that verges on a glare. He'll pull away when you reach for his hand, casually enough to pass off as an accident or fault of imperceptibility. As if you didn't know him better—that his reflexes and peripheral vision weren't as sharp as blades.

"Stupid anyway," he mumbles to himself, catching your ears. "Stupid toys."

You frown. He knows better than to speak this way—you've discussed it before, about how much you treasured your work and hated having it dismissed by words like stupid and childish. “I don't think they're stupid," you interrupt, never too intimidated to speak up against him.

Simon immediately softens upon realizing that you've heard him. “It's not—that's not what I meant. You know I don't think they're stupid."

Right, but he's acting strange all day. Still, you can't find it within yourself to probe. "Something is, though. Right?"

"The way they play with them,” Simon immediately speaks, shoulders stiff. "Just…grown men, playing like children."

"Ah," you hum. Somehow, you can't bring yourself to believe it—but you don't ask. It's not as if it's even remotely big enough of an issue to need addressing, after all. You just hate to see Simon so withdrawn. At least, more so than usual.

***

Simon is absent from dinner in the mess hall later on, after giving you an extensive tour and dropping you off at one of the on-base cafes. That's how you know something's off. He would never normally give up an opportunity to share a meal with you, even in a noisy, crowded cafeteria like the one on base.

"Wasn't hungry," he only shrugs when you find him in his on-base unit, boots kicked up as he nurses a neat whiskey. Oh, he's pouting.

You can't help yourself. "Aww, baby," you coo, lingering closer. "Are you feeling alright? You've been gloomy all day…"

"Mmph," he shrugs, gaze flickering up to yours—and he can't help how he all but melts at the love in your eyes. "Just…tired. Go'n and get your shower done. Wanna snuggle."

And how could you say no to that? Your growing suspicion had been that Simon was feeling left out, or forgotten, not receiving a doll of his own. Little does he know, you giggle to yourself.

***

You're in the shower when Simon emerges from his brooding, lurching off the couch and trudging towards the room, where he'd made his bed with clean sheets and set up fluffy pillows for his wife's arrival. The bitterness of being left out of her sweet benevolence has largely faded. She is his wife, after all.

He nudges open his bedroom door, set on his dresser to shed the heavy layers of the day, the mask, and finally exist as Simon for the rest of the night. With you. No doll could ever distract him from you.

He's pulling a hoodie over his head when tiny figures catch in the corner of his vision. A hallucination? No. Dolls.

You and him, smiling and snuggled together. You in your favorite sundress, rosy cheeks and cute face. Him in his mask—which is removable, he discovers on closer inspection. Simon gently tugs off the cloth skull mask, curious to see his own likeness rendered in doll form.

"Handsome bugger," he mutters, thumb brushing over his doll's small face. Blond with stern brown eyes, but smiling. Soap was right about the scars—each placed with perfect accuracy. The one extending from the left corner of his lip up his cheek. The one across his eyebrow. You even got the one under his chin, tucked under the plushie's soft, round face.

On the right hands of both dolls, he realizes, there is a hidden circle of Velcro. So they can hold hands in any orientation. It's such a you thing to do that it hurts.

When you emerge from your shower, all three are gathered in the living room, watching TV. Simon with his legs up on the coffee table, and your miniatures holding hands in his lap. It's hard to help the beam that curls up on your lips—and why would you want to?

"Looks like someone's found the kids," you coo, swaying over and plopping down beside him. “I'm glad you like 'em. Did I do you justice?"

"More than," Simon rasps, scooting close, flush against your side. "They're better than that git, Soap's, that's for sure."

His words coax laughter out of you as you press your head to his chest and scoop up the two little toys into your arms. "Careful, Si. They might hear what you said and tell him.”

"They can go on and tell the whole base, for all I care. Your skill went as far as it could go, it's his face that's the problem." Simon snorts, tugging you close and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Better believe I'm showing this one off tomorrow. Might have to keep it in here, though. I'm not risking a theft."

"You say that every time," you laugh, snuggling close and shutting your eyes for the night as he wraps an arm around you—warm, solid, and safely his.

Request Archive

[yanderedrabbles]

What's the worst thing Yan Military Contractor has ever done to the reader?

Yandere! Military Contractor

The very worst? Now that's tough competition. He's fucked you raw so many times that afterwards you can only curl up and whimper, legs aching so bad you can't stand. He's bitten you so hard that he's left a scar of his teeth on your thigh. He's bent your arm so very far up your back that on bad days your shoulder still aches. He's done anal without any prep or lube.

But the very worst? That happened on the day you almost escaped.

He likes to humour you. Likes letting you try and get away, just to drag you back at the last second. Likes the way you fight so much harder when freedom is so very close. But he never once entertained the thought of you actually succeeding.

You're too damn clever sometimes. Too smart for your own good.

You planned your escape carefully this time. Waited for a rainy day when he'd have trouble hearing your footsteps and seeing your tracks. Managed to make a mess in his armory and get out of a second story window when he was distracted counting his guns. And then you ran.

You saw a tree out on your forced walks once. Thick oak with branches that just about reached over the fence. It would be a hard fall, but if you managed to not snap an ankle you'd be home free.

He almost found you. You were up in the branches, rain pelting you in thick sheets when he walked right under you. It was pure luck that you noticed him in time. Even without the noise of the rain to cover his footsteps, he was dead silent.

He looked pissed. But that wasn't what made your heart drop.

He had his gun with him. Not one of the rifles or shotguns. That might have almost been better. Those guns felt unreal, felt like something out of a movie. No, he was carrying his chrome .50 calibre Desert Eagle.

You hated that gun. It was the one he carried on him almost all the time, the one he had the day he took you. Huge, mean looking thing. 'One of the nastiest shots you'll ever see,' he told you once.

It was scratched with years of use. A soldier's gun. A killer's gun.

You fingers went numb on the branch before you had the courage to keep moving. You dropped down on the other side of the electric fence, landing bad. You smacked a hand over your mouth to stifle your yelp.

Staggered to your feet, holding onto the trees to take the pressure off your stinging ankles. You did it.

You actually fucking did it.

You were free. Actually, finally free. You half didn't believe it until you reached the end of the trees and open farm land stretched in front of you. The rain was so much worse without the trees to protect you, but you didn't care. An empty field of wheat had never looked so damn good.

"On your knees."

You froze. No. No.

"I said, get on your fucking knees!"

You sat so fast that you felt lightheaded.

He came to stand in front of you, blocked your view of the open land and your last chance to escape. He was scowling, hand gripping his gun so tight that veins were standing out on his forearm.

The rain was sheeting down around you, running past the grooves and catches of his pistol. You couldn't see his face through the rain, but you could feel his eyes. Raking down your body, burning.

He pointed the gun at you, cocked it. The metallic sound of it somehow the loudest thing you'd ever heard.

"Open your mouth."

"I'm sorry! Please just-"

"Open. Your. Mouth."

You did. He forced the barrel passed your lips, all the way to the back of your throat. Your teeth scraped the metal.

It tasted bitter. Iron, gunpowder. It tasted like your death.

His finger was on the trigger. One little twitch, one inopportune gag, and you were done.

"Suck it."

You did, crying so damn hard but terrified to make a sound.

"No," he snarled. "Suck it like you would a cock."

He grabbed your hair, yanked your head back. "Show me why I shouldn't kill you right here and now. Remind me exactly why I keep you around."

You sucked his gun like your life depended on it. Tongue out, drooling, like you weren't a hairs breadth from death. Looked up at him with rain and tears pouring down your face.

You must have given him one hell of a show. When you couldn't take it anymore, when you were shaking from the cold and your lips were turning blue around the metal, that's when he pulled out. One hand still in your hair, he pointed the gun at the sky and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed over the trees.

Fuck. You really did just have a loaded gun in your mouth.

He holstered it, grabbed your jaw with the hand that just held your death.

"Never again. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[jazziejax]

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤 ‘𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Cowboy!Terry Richmond x Black!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - They had always had this lingering tensions between them. But not it seems that whatever feelings were there have now boiled over and at the Sweet Tooth Saloon, things get a little hot.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - 18+!, MINORS DNI, Heavy tension, sensual dancing, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), soft!Terry, mild dominance, tender aftercare, implied feelings

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - since yall only like me when I write about Aaron Pierre 🙄 I’m not good at wiring smut and I don’t even like doing it but this is something to hold yall over in case I drop off the fave if the earth soon. I have Finals next week :( UNEDITED, sorry for any spelling errors and grammar mistakes. There probably many because my laptop over heated…also, I can’t write a short fic to save my life.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭- 9,567+

The small bell above the door jingled as the large man stepped into the beauty salon, ducking slightly to avoid the low-hanging dried herbs strung up near the entrance. The scent of lavender and bergamot mixed with the faintest trace of hot iron and other chemicals, the kind used to curl or straighten a lady’s hair.

He had never set foot in a place like this before. Not because he didn’t believe in looking presentable—he just never trusted another person with a razor near his throat. And, to be honest, he didn't mind looking rough sometimes, but he was starting to become a little self-conscious whenever a woman looked at him for too long. Especially her. But the dust of the road clung to him, so his beard and his hair had grown past the point of comfort as he and his comrades spent more time than they thought in Sugar Cane Creek. Everything needed a trim. At least, the mirror at the bar last night told him as much, and Jim had made a comment about him “starting to look like a wild man”.

Terry didn’t care much what people thought, but he cared about feeling like himself.

A woman stood behind the counter, fingers-deep in a bowl of soapy water, scrubbing a comb. The early morning light that poured through the shop window was caught in her dark hair, making it shine like polished mahogany. She looked up, recognizing him instantly—because who in Sugar Cane Creek didn’t know who he rode with? But she didn’t stiffen or frown like some folk did when they saw a man from the Nat Love Gang.

Instead, she wiped her hands on a cloth, tilted her head, and smiled just enough to let him know she wasn’t afraid.

“Well, well." She mused, setting her rag aside. “Never thought I’d see the day you walked in here.” She said, a soft grin on her face. Her voice was as rich and smooth as honey fresh from the comb.

Terry removed his hat with a sigh, brushing a hand over his curls that had gotten a little thick on top of his head. “I think I'm in need of a trim.”

She raised a brow. “Hair or beard?”

“Both.”

Her gaze flickered over him, lingering on the rough edges of his beard. “I’ll say. Starting to look real close to a mountain man.” She quipped. Terry, however, didn’t smile, but something in his dark eyes did shift, a flicker of amusement that only she would catch. They had always danced around one another. Something they had been doing for a while now—exchanging looks in town while Terry earned his keep over at Cotton's and she began to start her work day at The Blush and Brush Parlor, brushing shoulders when they shared time at The Sweet Tooth Saloon. He was a quiet man, but she liked that about him. A man who didn’t talk just to fill space.

Her eyes flickered over his face, then lower to where his suede, dark brown, coat stretched broad across his shoulders. “Take your coat off." She said, already gathering her scissors. “You might be here a while.”

Terry hesitated, looking down at the shorter woman with a tired look. "Don't talk about me like I'm some sort of ruffian, now." He said, his voice deep and his country drawl thick. The brown skinned woman gave him a faux pout with a small laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry, bright eyes, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Now take a seat and let’s get you looking decent again, okay?" She grinned, playing coy with him. Terry didn't flinch at the name, but a small twitch was his lip was noticeable to her before he then shrugged out of his coat and laid it over the empty chair not far from him. He then sat down in the chair she stood in front of, allowing the woman to drape a sheet over his front, tying it at the back of his neck with nimble fingers before combing through his hair. She was gentle, but precise—no wasted movements, no hesitation.

"You know how to do men's hair?" He asked.

"Yup." She said. “Been cutting my daddy’s since I was eight. Used to say I was better than any barber in town.” He could hear the smile in her tone at the thought, though it veered off into something a little sad.

Terry hummed, the closest he’d come to laughter anyways, but he could also tell that the subject was a little sensitive to her. He let her work, let the soft snip of the scissors fill the quiet. Every so often, he felt the barest brush of her fingertips against his skin. He could also feel her large chest brush against the back of his neck every now and then, causing him to look up into the mirror in front of him, watching the woman work. He wasn’t a man who flinched easy, but something about that gentle touch made him tense in a way he couldn’t explain.

The shop was quiet except for the snip of her scissors. She worked with practiced ease, combing through his hair, trimming away the weight. Every so often, her fingers brushed the nape of his neck, light and deliberate. She felt the way he tensed, barely noticeable, but there.

“Relax, cowboy." She teased. “I ain’t gon' hurt you.” She said softly.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, settling into the chair.

She then suddenly grabbed the side of his head, straightening his head and looking at him though the mirror. He wasn't quite sure what she was doing, but he didn't question it as he watched her intensely though the mirror.

“Alright." She murmured after a while. “That’s the hair. Now the tricky part.”

She brush the excess hair from him before she turned to the washbasin, dipping a cloth into warm water before wringing it out. He expected her to hand it to him, but instead, she pressed it against his face herself. She held his head steady with her other hand, gripping his chin. And he couldn't help but wonder if she did the same procedures with all her clients, because even though his hair looked better than before, the way she was touching felt oddly intimate. The heat from her touch as well as the warm cloth sank into his skin, soothing the roughness of travel and the dry air. He hadn’t realized how much he needed that.

She worked carefully, rubbing a mixture of soap and oil into his beard before picking up the straight razor. She tested the blade against her thumb. She hummed before moving over to the leather strap against the wall to give it a quick sharpen. She tested it again, obviously to her liking since she walked back over and tipped his chin up with two fingers.

“You ever had a woman shave you before?” She asked, looking up from inspecting his unruly beard to lock eyes with his bright ones. It was a simple question, calling for a simple answer, but their gazes were intense. Terry shook his head, just barely, caught in her big eyes and soft touch as he licked his lips.

His response, or lack there of, caused her to grin. “Good. Means you’ll keep still.” She said, only leaning in briefly as she joked with him, but her sudden contact made allowed him to catch a whiff of sweet scent like, something like Ambrosia.

“Lean back,” She instructed, her foot hovering over the pump that allowed the chair to recline. Terry hesitated, blinking at her. It's not that he didn't trust her, he'd known her for quite some time now. He trusted her hands in his hair, but a blade near his throat? That was different. He never trusted anyone that much, not even his closest comrades. It's the reason why all his self-cut's were a little choppy. Something that wouldn't have mattered if he was still up to his outlaw duties and on the road. But now he was spending his time in saloon's and around beauties they didn't offer at home.

She caught the shift in his posture, her smirk turning knowing. “You scared?” She questioned.

Terry met her gaze, his own steady. “No.”

“Then sit still.” She said before she pushed down on the pump under the chair, allowing it to recline. And that he did, opening his growing facial hair to her, ample room left in case of his worst fear. But he had no reason to fear her and her intentions, because her blade was steady. Her hands were sure, and he trusted her, even though he had no reason to.

The razor glided slow, careful. She kept her grip steady, the blade sharp and sure as it skimmed along his jaw. The heat of the late afternoon pressed into the shop, thick and lazy, but it wasn’t what made her skin prickle. It wasn’t what sent that slow, creeping flush up her neck, settling warm in her cheeks.

No, that was him. It was his eyes that were watching her.

They were unblinking, steady, tracking her every move like a man who had nowhere else to be. He was always like this—silent, still, and always looking—but something about it felt different now. Maybe because they were closer than usual. Maybe because she could feel the heat radiating off him, could see the slow rise and fall of his chest under the weight of her touch.

She set her jaw, trying not to let on just how much she felt him. The every move he made under her touch.

Instead, she focused.

“Bet you’re the kind of man who don’t like feeling vulnerable." She murmured, trying to make small talk with staring man.

Terry’s eyes stayed on her. “You talk too much.” He said, quirking a brow at her. She chuckled, dragging the blade along his jawline. “Maybe. But you don’t talk enough, so it evens out.”

Her hand shifted, fingers pressing just beneath his chin as she tilted his head for a better angle. He was warm beneath her touch, his pulse steady, but she felt it jump when her nails scraped lightly against his throat. She tilted his chin just slightly, her fingers light under his jaw, and dragged the blade down his throat in a slow, deliberate motion. He let her, not moving, not even swallowing, though she could see the tight pull of his muscles beneath his skin, right at the peek of his shirt.

She shouldn’t be looking there, but how could she not? This hunk of a man was lying below her, almost open and willing as he gazed up her with a soft look in his eyes. The air between them was thick, something unspoken curling at the edges. Her grip on the razor tightened just a little as she worked, and his gaze burned hotter for it.

“You always watch this hard?” She asked finally, keeping her tone light as she wiped the hair she cut on a rag after shaking it off in the water basin and then wiping it away. She glanced up some, catching sight of his lips—pink, full, and slightly parted—tipped up at the corner. “Always.” That single word, rough and low, sent something straight to her stomach.

She swallowed as she continued working, trying her best to focus, steadying herself. She wasn’t about to let him get the better of her, no matter how much heat curled between them. But she also took her time finishing the shave, enjoying the rare sight of the outlaw that is Terry Richmond—silent, still, and at her mercy.

“You’re awful quiet for a man with so much to say in his eyes." She murmured, brushing away the lingering shaving foam with the pad of her thumb. Her hand lingered a second too long, caught in the shape of his jaw. Terry still didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just watched her.

“Didn’t know I needed to talk." He said, and she could’ve sworn she saw his blue eyes flicker to a sea green as the light hit them. The warmth in her cheeks…and else where, deepened. She pulled back, making quick work of the last stroke of hair she had to eliminate, but her hands weren’t as steady as before.

And he knew that.

By the time she was done, the shop felt too small, too warm, too much. She grabbed the cloth and wiped his face cleaning, looking at her finished product around his mouth. Her eyes met his briefly as she took in the goatee she set him up with, a small smile beginning to grace his feature as his eyes bounced across her face. She cleared her throat softly, wiping an imaginary spot of lather from his jaw and leaned back to admire her work. “There. You clean up nice, cowboy.” She said with a grin.

She turned, quickly wiping the blade clean, setting it aside, and moving a few steps away to compose herself as she gathered the material she sat out in front of the mirror.

But then she felt him stand up from the chair, taking the cape off. She felt the shift in the air when he got close—just behind her. Close enough that she could feel the heat of him at her back. She glanced up, watching as he inspected his face in the mirror from behind her. He rubbed his large hands across his face, taking in his fresh look. He only did that for a few seconds before his gazed dropped to the round woman below him. He her her eyes in the mirror, nothing but an exchange between their eyes. She was the only to look away first, cleaning the station.

Terry sat the hair cape he had in his hands in the chair, looking as himself one last time before he hummed in content. He place his hand on her shoulder, large over her breakers that was far from small. “Good job.” He said, voice low near her ear. He then stepped away, his hand dragging down and across the back of her waist as he moved over to shoulder on his coat. She froze at the feeling of him touching her, and then gulped at his fingers tracking off her body. She looked up, looking herself in the eye and blinking, making sure this was all real, before looking in the mirror to watch him put the coat over his large frame.

Terry ran a hand over his chin, feeling the smoothness. He met her gaze, something unspoken passing between them.

“How much?” He asked after putting on his hat, straightening his clothing, and she tried not to get distract by the way he grabbed his belt, using it to adjust his pants. She turns, tiring her head at him as she gave him a noticeable once over. “Hmm.” She stated with a hum, placing her hands on her hips as she stepped closer. “Well, if you were any other customer, I’d charge five cent. But for you, Terry Richmond, I’ll charge you three.” She smiled.

Terry’s lips twitched, his expression unreadable as he glanced off into the distance out side of the parlor’s windows. He adjusted his belt, the large buckle dinging softly while the leather shifted under his grip. His eyes, sharp and knowing, flicked back to her.

“Three cents, huh?” His voice was smooth, lazy, but there was an edge to it—like he was turning something over in his mind. “Mighty generous of you. Can’t help but to think I’m special.” He quipped, though his tone never really wavered from his deep baritone and his serious manner.

She lifted a brow, arms still crossed as she tilted her head at him. “Well, I’m feelin’ kind.” She smiled, playing along to the game she knew she started, all for the hell of it.

That little smirk of his deepened. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, closing some of the space she’d put between them. She felt it immediately—his warmth, his presence. It was impossible not to.

“You always this kind? Or only to me?” His voice had dropped, rough and low, like gravel dipped in honey.

Her pulse skipped. She held his gaze, not backing down, but he knew what he was doing. He knew the way his voice curled around her, the way his eyes made her skin prickle. Her breath caught, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she kept her expression even, playful, letting her smile linger as she tilted her chin up at him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She murmured, voice smooth as satin. “Mr. Special.” She finished, a certain glint in her eye as she tilted her chin just slightly—like she wasn’t the least bit affected. Like she wasn’t keenly aware of just how close he was now.

Terry huffed a quiet chuckle, but there was something else in his eyes—something sharp, knowing. His gaze flickered down, just briefly at the Lowe part of her face, before settling back on hers. His presence was suffocating in the best way, heavy and warm, filling up the little space between them.

“I would.” He admitted, voice slow and deliberate, like he was testing the weight of the words. “Got a feelin’ the answer might keep me up at night.” He said, crossing his arms.

She let out a soft laugh, looking away from his heavy stare as she shook her head. The heat curling in her stomach was unmistakable. He was good—too good. And she didn’t now how’s long she last in this little game they always played before she pounced on him.

“Don’t go losin’ sleep over me, Richmond.” She teased, even as her pulse thrummed in her ears. She breezed past him, making sure her side brushed against his as she moving over to the small counter on the left side of the door. His eyes trailed down her figure once her back was to him, taking in her round and voluptuous curves from behind. “Wouldn’t wanna be the cause of your troubles.” She finished as she turned to look at him from behind the counter. She leaned her weight in the counter, her hand clasped together with her forearms resting on cold wood. She watched as Terry stood there for a moment, the look in his eye darker than before as he stated at her. He then blinked before moving, not taking his eyes from her with his pace slow and deliberate before he stood on the other side of the counter, looking down at the woman.

Terry tilted his head slightly, studying her like he was seeing something no one else had the sense to look for.

“Too late for that.” He said. The words were quiet, but they landed heavy between them, sending a shiver straight down her spine. Before she could find something clever to throw back at him after gulping, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a silver dollar, and placed it on the counter in front of her hands. His fingers brushed hers, Cushing him to glance down at the small touch.

He then looked back up, his blue eyes staring into her brown ones. “That oughta cover the next few visits.” He said, voice even, but there was that flicker of something else in his eyes again—something smug, something dangerous.

She laughed, shaking her head. “That’s too much.”

Terry simply shook his head, glancing away from her. “Nah.”

She narrowed her gaze at him, lips parting slightly, but he was already shrugging into his coat, the weight of his scent—tobacco and something deep, something him—lingering in the air. “And here I thought you didn’t like to talk.” She mused, watching him, arms placed on the counter as she thought over all their silent but pleasant times together in the Saloon while the rest of the gang chatted.

Terry confined to gaze at her, his eyes taking across her face. “I don’t.” He said, his smirk lazy, knowing. He paused, casting her a slow, lingering glance—one that made her stomach twist up in knots. He then turned to the door, but before pausing and casting one last glance over his shoulder. His gaze swept over her—slow, deliberate, enough to make the air feel thick with something unspoken. Then, after a beat—“But you make it worth it, Mrs.Special.” Then he tipped his hat and walked out.

And then, just like that, he was gone, leaving her standing there, staring after him, her heart racing, her face burning hotter than a summer’s day in Cane Creek, her fingers gripping the counter a little tighter than before and the lingering ghost of his eyes still burning against her skin.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The Sweet Tooth Saloon was alive tonight—thick with the scent of whiskey, tobacco, and the heat of too many bodies pressed close together. Laughter and conversation swirled beneath the hum of string instruments, boots tapping against the wooden floor. The music was thick, rolling through the air like smoke, wrapping around every body packed into the space. Heat clung to the walls, thick with whiskey, sweat, and the deep, throaty hum of anticipation.

But all of it quieted—just a little—when she stepped onto the stage. Her deep red dress hugging her curves, sinching in her waist and pushing up her breast.

The pianist struck a slow, rolling tune, and a hush fell over the crowd like a held breath. She let them wait, dragging her fingertips along the microphone stand, tilting her head slightly as she took in the sea of faces before her. Then, just when the tension thickened, she let her voice pour out, smooth and rich like warm molasses.

The song was sultry, the kind that curled its way around a man’s spine and made him lean in just a little closer, made him think about things he shouldn’t in a room full of people. And Lord, did they lean in. The entire saloon was hanging onto her voice, watching the way she swayed, the way her fingers trailed down her own arm, the way she made every lyric sound like a promise whispered against bare skin.

Men leaned closer, their drinks forgotten, their gazes fixed on the woman commanding the stage. Her voice was rich, full of promise, of something dark and sweet.

But there was only one pair of eyes she felt, steady and unwavering through the thick haze of smoke and lantern light. In the very back, where the light barely reached, where the smoke curled the thickest—she saw him.

Terry Richmond.

He was leaning against the bar, broad and still, his hat tilted low but not enough to hide the way his bright eyes. He was half-shrouded in shadow, his bright blue gaze cutting through the dim like a knife. He wasn’t drinking, wasn’t talking—just watching.

Her heart skipped a little.

Heat licked up her spine at the intensity of it, but she didn’t let it shake her. She didn’t falter under his gaze. Instead, she let it fuel her, let it shape the way she sang, the way her lips curved around the lyrics, the way she dragged her fingers over the curve of her own waist. If he wanted to look, she was gonna give him something worth looking at.

She kept singing, dragging out the final note, letting it settle over the room like the last flicker of a candle before it goes out. By the time the last note left her lips, the saloon erupted in cheers, men whistling, clapping, stomping their boots against the floor. She gave a slow, knowing smile, dipping into a slight bow before stepping down from the stage.

She didn’t make a show of looking for him, but she knew exactly where she was going.

The moment she reached the bar, a whiskey was already waiting for her—on the house, as always. She took a slow sip, letting the burn settle deep before finally turning, finally meeting his gaze up close. The bar was crowded, but somehow, the space next to Terry was clear. He didn’t look at her right away, just lifted a hand slightly to catch the bartender’s attention. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He just looked at her, that same unreadable expression on his face.

“Whiskey?” He asked, voice low, smooth like dark molasses as he gave a small gesture to the glass she already downed. She leaned against the counter, close enough that the edge of her skirt brushed his leg. “You know me too well.” She grinned, already feeling the buzz that the alcohol as giving her. At that, Terry slid a silver coin across the counter, and within seconds, a glass was in front of her. She looked away from him as she took a slow sip, letting the burn settle in her chest. She could feel him watching her, but he didn’t speak. Didn’t have to. That was the thing about Terry—he could say more in a look than most men could in a thousand words.

“You always stare this hard, Richmond?” She asked, looking over at him with a tilt of her head once she had enough of the hard liquor, her voice still thick with the remnants of the song. His lips quirked, just barely, his eyes drifting over her figure. “Only when I like what I see.”

Her stomach flipped at his words, but she kept her expression even, playful. “That so?” She asked, a smirk in her lip and quirk of her brow. “That’s so.” He repeated in confirmation, then kicking his lips. Terry then leaned in just a fraction, close enough that she could feel the heat of him, close enough that she caught the scent of tobacco and cedarwood clinging to his coat.

“So much so.” He murmured, “That I might just have to get my hands on it.” Her breath caught, pulse quickening, but before she could say something sharp, something smart—before she could even decide if she wanted to—Terry’s head tilted slightly, his gaze flickering to the dance floor.

A new song had started.

Something slow. Something meant to be felt more than heard. She barely had time to set her glass down before Terry’s hand slid to her waist.

Without another word, without giving her the chance to refuse, his other hand reached for hers, his grip warm and sure as he led her away from the bar. Her breath hitched. Her heart pounded as she let him pull her into him, his palm settling low against her back. He didn’t ask. Didn’t say a damn word. Just pulled her onto the dance floor.

If he wanted to play with fire, she was more than happy to let him burn.

The moment they stepped into the space, bodies made room for them. Not out of fear, not tonight, but out of knowing. Because everyone in Sugar Cane Creek had eyes. And at that moment, everyone had seen the way Terry Richmond looked at her. The way she looked back.

The tension wrapped around them thick as smoke, curling in the air, pressing against their skin.

Terry moved slow, deliberate, his hand firm at the small of her back, the other clasping hers as he pulled her close—closer than what was proper, closer than what was wise. She let him, her breath shuddering as she settled into him, the warmth of his body seeping into hers. The saloon blurred around them, the lights dim, the chatter distant. None of it mattered. Not when his blue eyes were locked onto hers, not when she could feel the slow drag of his thumb against the back of her hand.

“You dance?” She murmured, her voice teasing, her lips dangerously close to his jaw. She felt him take in a breath with her chest against hers, and if she paused attention, she could’ve sworn she felt the way his heart was beating. “Only when I got reason to.” He answered, his voice a low rumble against her skin. “You given me plenty.” He said, his lips close to her ear as they danced.

She swallowed that his tone so close, heat curling in her belly. “Is that so?”

His fingers flexed against her back, pulling her that last inch closer. His breath, warm and slow, ghosted over her cheek. “Mmhmm.” He hummed with a lick of his lips, the sound causing his body to rumble against hers. She exhaled softly, turning her head just enough that their noses brushed, just enough that if either of them leaned in—just a little—they’d be past the point of no return.

The music swelled, the rhythm thick and slow, wrapping around them like a promise. The way they moved now—close, slow, like something dangerous just beneath the surface—only confirmed what they both had long suspected.

His hand was firm against the small of her back, his other clasping hers as he led her through the steps. It wasn’t a fast dance, nothing rowdy or wild, but it was just as electric. Every turn, every shift, had them pressing together. His breath skimmed the shell of her ear when he leaned in, his grip tightening just enough to let her feel the strength in his arms.

“You always hold a woman this close when you dance?” She whispered, looking up at him through her lashes. Terry’s lips barely curved, his smirk lazy, knowing. “Only when I don’t plan on lettin’ go.” He said, his eyes inspecting every crevice her face had to offer. He didn’t know if he’d bee be this close to her again, and he was taking advantage of the blessing he had to hold her in this way, and gaze at her face as he did.

Her breath hitched.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them blinked.

Lord, the way he watched her. He looked at her as if she was the only thing in the room. Like he was memorizing her in real time. She met his gaze, bold as ever, and let her fingers trail slow up his shoulder, tracing the line of his coat until her nails met the hot skin of his neck. A muscle in his jaw ticked at that. His grip on her waist flexed. They didn’t speak. Didn’t need to.

And then, just when she thought he might tip his head and close the space, just when she thought she might lose her damn mind waiting for it—

He pulled her into the next step of the dance, smooth as silk, a satisfied glint in those blue eyes of his. He was teasing her. Daring her.

If he wanted a game, she was more than happy to play.

“Oh, is that how you want to play?” She asked, feigning innocence while her pulse quickened with anticipation.

Terry’s smirk returned, a challenge wrapped in his expression. “You started it, darlin’.” He replied, stepping into her space that was no longer available due to him, their bodies flush against one another. The heat radiating from him was intoxicating, lulling her in despite the playful facade they each wore. He controlled their movements with a firm yet gentle lead, the world around them fading as she lost herself in the intensity of his gaze and the cadence of their bodies moving in sync.

She narrowed her eyes, but her smirk was knowing. Two could play that game. She let her body press just a little closer, her curves molding against the hard lines of him, her breath a warm whisper against his cheek. He swallowed, his fingers tightening against her waist, a sharp inhale the only sign of restraint.

She felt it, that slip of control, and it sent something hot through her veins. "Careful, cowboy." She murmured, voice all honey and silk. "You might not want to let go, but I ain't so sure you can handle holdin’ on."

His eyes then darkened. His grip flexed, strong fingers digging into the curve of her waist, keeping her against him like he had no intention of letting her go. Not now. Not ever. Now, Terry didn’t scare easy. Didn’t flinch and didn’t fold to many.

But her?

She was dangerous in a way he wasn’t prepared for. Her voice, all thick honey and slow-drawn silk, wrapped around him, testing, teasing, tempting as it spilling through his ear and ran though his veins like it was his blood. Keeping his heart pumping. He could feel the shape of her, soft and warm against the hard planes of his body, the sway of their dance turning into something far more dangerous, far more intimate.

He leaned in, just enough that his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “You think I can’t handle you?” He asked, his hands drifting lower as he practically engulfed her in his body. She let out a breathy little laugh, conveniently covering the way she took in a sudden breath at his touch, one that made his pulse jump, made his restraint strain at the edges. "Wouldn’t be the first man to try and fail, cowboy.” She whispered to him, her fingers brushing against the nape of his neck, feeling the freshly shaved haircut he had gotten only hours prior.

Terry exhaled through his nose, amused, darkly so.

She was pushing him, daring him. And he welcomed the challenge. So he let his hand slide lower, fingers grazing the base of her spine, just above the curve of her ass, applying the slightest pressure that had her breath catching. She was quick, though. Slipping her arms around his shoulders, she placed her hand on the back of his head, nails scratching ever so lightly. That same muscle in his jaw ticked again.

Her smirk widened.

That was it.

The last frayed thread of his patience snapped.

Without warning, Terry spun her, pressing her back against his front, effectively caging her in. The movement had her chest rising, her lips parting, and damn if that wasn’t the prettiest sight he’d ever seen as he looked down at her. His voice dropped, a low murmur only for her.

"Darlin'..." His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down the side of her neck, lingering at the base of her throat. He could feel her pulse hammering beneath his touch while his other hand rested low on her waist in the front, easing down to a place unimaginable in front of folks. “You’re playin’ with fire." He muttered.

She tilted her chin up, leaning her head back against his chest, gaze smoldering. "Good thing I ain't afraid to burn.” She whispered. And that was all he needed. He quickly spun her around and his mouth was on hers, rough and consuming, his kiss leaving no room for question, no space for anything but him—his hands, his body, the heat of him pressing against every part of her.

She met him with equal fervor, fingers fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer, gasping into his mouth when he pressed himself fully against her. The saloon around them might as well have disappeared.

Nothing else existed in that moment. Just him and just her. That and the fire threatening to consume them both.

One moment, they were moving with the rhythm of the music, spinning slow in the dim glow of the saloon lights. The next, he was leading her off the floor, through the press of bodies, past the thick haze of cigar smoke and whiskey-scented air. The second the cool night air hit her skin, she was backed against the wooden frame of the saloon’s outer wall, the rough grain pressing into her spine, his body caging her in.

There was no more teasing, just as there was no more space between them. She barely had time to breathe before his lips found hers again. Slow, at first, like he was still savoring, still memorizing, but the second she sighed against his mouth, the second her fingers slid into his hair and pulled, something broke between them. The kiss turned hungry and deep.

Like he’d been starving for this—for her—for longer than he cared to admit.

She gasped when he gripped her thigh, hitching it up against his hip, pressing her flush against him, making her feel a bulge she that didn't know was his belt buckle, the crease of his jeans or his manhood. Heat coiled between them, urgent and burning, his mouth trailing from her lips to her jaw, down the curve of her neck. She tilted her head, giving him more, losing herself to the feel of him—the weight of his body, the heat of his breath, the quiet growl he let slip when she dragged her nails down his back. "Oh, Terry," She breathed, and damn if he didn’t shudder at the sound of it.

He lifted his head, his forehead pressing against hers, their breath mingling, their bodies still tangled together in the shadows. "I ain’t lettin’ go," He murmured, voice rough, edged with something dangerous. "Not tonight."

She grinned, breathless, running her fingers down the side of his face, feeling the slight roughness of his freshly shaven jaw. "Good." She said before grabbing him by the collar and pulling him to place her lips against her. The kiss lasted for mere seconds, a mash of panting breaths and slick tongues before Terry pulled away. He didn’t say a word before he took her hand, his fingers wrapping firm around hers, rough and warm. He didn’t have to. The look in his eyes, the quiet pull of his grip, said enough.

She followed him back through the saloon, past the clinking glasses and low murmur of conversation, past the haze of cigar smoke still hanging thick in the air. The wooden stairs creaked under their steps as he led her up, slow and steady, his thumb tracing slow circles against her palm like he was trying to keep himself anchored. Or like he was memorizing her touch.

She should’ve felt nervous. Should’ve felt some sense of hesitation as they moved further away from the music, from the people, from any excuse to slow this down.

But she didn’t. All she could focus on was him.

The broad stretch of his shoulders. The slow, deliberate pace of his steps. The way he glanced back at her over his shoulder, his blue eyes dark with something unreadable, something that made her stomach dip and heat coil between her ribs.

They reached his door.

And for a moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

He just stood there, facing the wood, his breath slow and measured like he was giving himself a second to think—to decide if this was a line he was ready to cross. Then, without a word, he pushed it open. The second they were inside, it changed.

The tension that had been simmering, stretching between them in the dance, in the way he watched her, in every unspoken moment leading up to this���it snapped.

She barely had time to take in the room before she was against the door, her back pressed against the worn wood, her breath stolen by the press of his body. Terry’s lips crashed against hers, no hesitation now, no teasing restraint. He kissed her like he’d been holding back for too damn long, like he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance again, and she felt it all. The hunger. The need. The slow, deep pull of something dangerously close to devotion.

She gasped when his hands—big, warm, calloused from work—spanned her waist, dragging her closer, molding her to him like he needed to feel every inch of her against him. His hands tacked down, bending slightly to gather the bunch of her skirt. He hiked it up, catching a feel of her warm thighs that molded under his grip. The feeling of her hands caused her to moan in his mouth, her hands moving over him feverishly as she was filled heat she was giving her. He didn’t hold back, moving his hands up for the back of her legs and gracing over the smooth skin of her ass. He tightened his grip, needing it and causing her to gasp into his mouth. He took his as an option to slip his tongue deeper, almost sucking on hers while he moved his hands to begin to untie the strings of her corset.

She didn’t hold back either. Her fingers found the buttons of his vest, fumbling with them, her hands eager and desperate to feel the heat of his skin. His breath hitched against her mouth when she dragged the fabric from his shoulders, then she felt the quiet rumble of a chuckle against her lips when she yanked his shirt free and ragged her hands down his ribbed abdomen, impatience getting the best of her.

"So eager.” He murmured against her lips, voice low and teasing.

She narrowed her eyes, nipping softly at his bottom lip with her teeth, her nails grazing down his chest, feeling the sharp inhale he took at the touch. "So are you." She purred.

And he didn’t argue. He didn’t need to.

Instead, he reached back down, cupped her though just under her ass, and lifted her, carrying her further into the room like she weighed nothing at all. She barely had time to register the shift before she felt the softness of the mattress beneath her, his weight pressing her down, his mouth trailing slow, lingering kisses down the column of her throat. His touch was slow and sensual, his hands finding any place to rub and caress. Like he was still memorizing, like he was savoring.

But the moment she whispered his name—breathy and wanting—something shifted again. His slow, deliberate control had snapped.

And neither of them held back anymore.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulled him closer as if she was trying to meld them into one. Terry's breath caught as his bulge hit her core, his hands gripped her tighter, holding her as if he were afraid she might slip away. The world outside faded -no clinking glasses, no murmurs, just the vibrant thud of their hearts battling for attention in the silence between their kisses. Their mouths slid together with a hunger that left her breathless. Every kiss deepened the fire sparking between them, waves of adrenaline crashing over her as she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him even closer as he dipped down to claim her throat once more. He kissed his way down, worshipping her skin with heated touches and soft bites, igniting every nerve ending in her body.

"Tell me what you want.” He murmured against her collarbone, his breath hot against the cool air of the room. “Come on, tell me baby. Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” He breathed out. There was something dangerously tender in his rough but needy words, as if he genuinely wanted to know-not just in the heat of the moment, but in that space where everything was laid bare.

She didn't hesitate. "You. All of you. Right here, right now, baby. Give it to me." It was a wild and brisk admission, and a thrill shot through her at the honesty in her voice. She could feel Terry's pulse quicken at her words, a primal urge coursing through him. He raised his head, looking directly into her eyes, and in that moment, she understood. This was more than a fleeting encounter. This was a collision of desires that had been simmering for far too long.

With a sharp intake of breath, he dove back into her mouth, a feverish kiss that stole her thoughts and drowned her in pleasure. She felt the weight of him press into her, his body a delicious contradiction of strength and softness. He paused for the briefest moment to catch her gaze, the heat in his eyes burning deeper than before, and she sensed the shift—not just in the proximity of their bodies, but in the intensity of everything that hung between them.

"Are you sure?" He rasped, pulling back just enough for her to see the uncertainty mingled with desire in his eyes. She could sense it— the weight of the moment, the gravity of their choices. "Absolutely.” She replied, her heart racing with certainty. She reached for him again, pulling him closer, and felt a grin split his face as he dove into her once more, taking her breath and leaving nothing but a breathless gasp in its wake.

Their clothes were off in an instant.

Once her corset was off and the full expanse of her skin was showing, he sucked a nipple into his mouth, his tongue trace the outline of her areola to his heart's content before pulling away to show the other the same attention. He listened to her sigh and smiled. "I love the way you sound." He said before grumbling out her name.

"Yeah?" She sighed, eyes closed as she took in the feeling of his tongue as he licked up her sternum. "I love the way you say my name." She breathed.

"Yeah?" Terry releated as his hands drifted lower in her body. “ I love your body. Your perfect." He paused to place a kiss on her stomach. “Perfect.” Another kiss, this time below her belly button. “Perfect, body.” He finished, his warm breath blowing on her core. His hands moved from her waist, deriding lower to ease her legs apart as he took in the sigh before him. He audibly moaned at the sight, practically drooling as he looked at her. “So fucking pretty.” He whispered. He wanted to taste all she had to offer. Before she could sink in, She placed her hand on his head, pushing his head back. “Wait.” She said.

Terry looked up at her, his large blue eyes dark and blown with lust. “What is it baby?” He asked, licking his lips as his eyes trailed over her form laid out before him. Her eyes sifted away from his stare, biting at her bottom lip before she spoke. “I…I’ve never had a fella go down there before.” She said softly.

Terry’s smirk faded, his expression shifting into something softer, something reverent. He rested his hands on her hips, his thumbs stroking slow and reassuring circles against her skin, before he placed his head on her bender knee. “Ever?” He asked. His voice was quiet, almost disbelieving, but there was no judgment—just understanding, just care. And something a little more that neither of them knew.

She shook her head, eyes darting away, almost shy. “Ain’t never been with a man who wanted to.” She shrugged a bit, still biting at her lower lip.

Terry exhaled sharply, his brows pulling together for the briefest moment, like the thought alone frustrated him. He cupped the side of her thigh, grounding her, making sure she felt him, felt the sincerity in his touch.

“Well.” He said, voice warm and steady, “You got one now.”

Her eyes flickered back to his, searching, cautious. But all she found was certainty. His lips brushed against her skin, his breath warm as he murmured, “You just tell me what feels good, darlin’. I got you. I just want you to play back. You ain’t gotta worry no more.” He said, his voice going back into the deep ruble that set her ablaze. And the way he said it—so sure, so gentle—made something deep in her chest tighten. Because she believed him.

So that’s what she did, ladies back against the pillows and open her legs further, barring it all and offering it to him. And Terry took it with life, gratitude, as well as pure lust. Like a magnet, Terry's fingers found their way to her slick lips as he gathered wetness before dragging his skilled digits around her clit. Her breath audibly hitched from the contact, making him chuckle before he pressed his lips against her plump thigh, squeezing with the other hand. Slow circles, maddeningly slow and gentle enough to feel like nothing at all had her willing to agree to just about anything to get off.

He then lunged forward with hunger, letting his tongue do all the talking, slithering inside of her warm walls as his nose nudged her clit. She tensed up with every nudge, let out small pants at the unfamiliar yet raviging feeling that washed over her. He glanced down, watching as he freely put his face in her center. He made it messy enough to admire when he pulled his mouth off of her, her pussy glistening like he just doused her in oil.

"Ohh, look at you, baby.” The grumble that came deep from within his throat as he watched her cute clenched around nothing as she continued to whine from the loss of contact from above. And his green eyes on her most intimate parts made it so hard not to get hot and bothered even with him not doing anything. Her poor nub was jumping with excitement as he used his large fingers to spread her lips open. “Look who’s happy to see me." He said as he took in a sharp breath, feeling her slick coating his fingers, the sound of her wetness loud within the room. “You happy to see me, hun? Huh?“ He questioned, looking up at her.

She moan and nodded eagerly, bringing her hand to cover her mouth at the stimulation he was giving her down under. Terry smiled at that, sharp teeth flashing from under his lips. He tried to keep his eyes on hers, looking into her large orbs that were filled with pleasure and a slight sheen of tears at his touch, but her pussy that just kept sucking his fingers in had him in a trance as his sick standing at attention in his underwear. “Tell me you’re happy I’m down here. Making you feel so good.” He demanded. His tone didn’t leave anymore for defiance, which she took as she angered him. “I’m so happy you’re here, Terry. You feel so good, baby.” She whined out as best as she could, breaths short and rocked her hips into his fingers.

"Mmm, yeah, I know.” Terry grinned. “When the last time sometime touched you, huh?" He asked, but this time he got no response watching as she began to reach her high and feeling her clench around his finger. Tweeting pulled his hand back at that, causing the woman to whine at the loss of contact. “Tell me, hun, and we can continue.” He said.

"I-I don't remember.” She said, and she was telling the truth, she truly couldn't. It had to be nothing worth remembering, especially in comparison to what he was making her feel now.

"Well, I’m gon’ make sure you remember this, hear" He then bent down to deliver a bite to her plush thigh, almost as if he was warning her for what's to come before he dove his face back into her heat, slurping at her hard and soaked clit. Her belly was doing summersaults, she could barely contain her volume at the feeling of his long and warm muscle working a magic she’s never felt before. But her sounds were the last of his worries, they were actually only fuel to his already burning fire.

As he ate, he made noise. He moaned, grunted, groaned in her, letting he know and feel that he was having just as much fun as she was.

Her legs had began to shake the longer he was down there, her hands gripping onto the white sheets of the inn bed since that was all she had to hold on to after he practically ripped her’s and his clothes off beforehand.

"Yes! Yes, oh, yes! I'm so close, Terry baby.” She struggled to keep her eyes on him even with his staring back up at her over her pudge, his eyes low lidded and dark. They beckoned her to stay, to not go levee the edge just yet, but her pleasure had came rolling through like a monsoon and wiped all the thoughts from her brain. She was a shaking, blubbering mess under his weight as he continued to lick and eat at her juices. He moved his mouth away from her pussy only to replace it with his hand, rubbing her clit in tight circles as he subconsciously moved her hips.

"Just feel it, baby. Let it happen.” He cooed in that sexy country drawl. She tried to fight against his hand, her thighs subconsciously closing around his wrist. But he smacked his large hand into her juicy thighs and kept at it with his other hand until he felt like he was done. "Be still and met it happen, baby." He cooed, enticing another moan from the woman. She felt like she was literally about to float up into the heavens, her back arching up off of the couch just to get away from the overstimulation.

"Okay! Oh, Fuck!" She screamed. “Yes, Terry!” He moved his hand to allow her to go through the motions, watching as she twitched until that special feeling left her center. "Good job, baby.” He said, pressing a soft kiss on her thighs. “Good job, my pretty girl." Another kiss from him was placed beside her opened mouth as heavy breathing left as he moved up her body.

As the tremors faded from her body, she lay there, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, her skin flushed and glowing in the dim lights of the room. Her limbs felt weightless, boneless, as if she’d melted right into the bed.

Terry was still there, right where he had been, his hands firm on her thighs, holding her steady like he wasn’t quite ready to let go. He pressed slow, lingering kisses to the inside of her knee, then another, trailing up, as if savoring the aftermath.

When she finally opened her eyes, she found him watching her, his expression unreadable at first—like he was memorizing her in this moment, like he was trying to etch the sight of her pleasure into his bones. A slow, lazy smirk then tugged at his lips. “Ain’t never seen somethin’ so damn pretty.” His voice was rough, thick with satisfaction, but there was something else there too. Something deeper.

She let out a breathless laugh, her fingers finding their way into his hair, rubbing lightly. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special, cowboy.” She smirked. Terry hummed with chortle, leaning into her touch, his hands sliding up to rest at her waist as he crawled up beside her. “Ain’t about makin’ you feel special.” He murmured against her skin, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “You already are.”

Her breath hitched, her heart fluttering in her chest at the way he said it—so simple, so certain. She turned her head to look at him, finding those piercing blue eyes already on her, unwavering. And for a moment, neither of them spoke. There was no need to.

Instead, she reached for him, guiding his face to hers, and kissed him slow—letting him feel exactly how much she believed him. She slowly came back to herself with her lips attached to his, still basking in the warmth of his touch. She let her fingers trail down his chest, her nails scraping lightly over the fabric of his briefs. She could feel the way his breath hitched, bus bulge rubbing against her. The tension still coiled tight in his body despite the easy way he lay beside her.

A slow smirk pulled at her lips as she traced top of his boxers, slipping her hand into them with practiced ease. “Reckon I should return the favor.” She murmured, her voice soft, teasing.

But before she could go any further, Terry’s hand caught hers—not rough, not forceful, just firm enough to stop her in place. She looked up, brows furrowing in confusion, but the look in his eyes made her pause. “Ain’t about that.” He said quietly, his voice still thick, still warm, but full of something deeper. He squeezed her fingers, rubbing slow circles into the back of her hand. “You just came down from somethin’ real intense, darlin’. I just wanna hold you right now.”

She blinked at him, caught off guard by his words, by the tenderness in them. “Terry, I—”

“I know.” He gave her a small, lazy smile, shifting so he could pull her closer against him. “We got time for all that. Just… let me have this. Let me have you right here in this exact moment. We might not ever get it again.”

And the way he said it, like holding her in his arms was just as much of a pleasure as anything else, sent something warm through her chest. They wet her already planned for this to be sitting more made her body flutter in a way only he can make happen. She sighed, settling against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. “That’s my good girl.” He said before placing a kiss on her warm skin.

And with that, they stayed there, tangled up in each other, letting the night stretch out slow and easy.

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[girlactionfigure]

Eulogy

Yarden Bibas’ eulogy for his wife Shiri, and children Ariel, and Kfir Bibas who were kidnapped by Palestinian terrorists on October 7, 2023, from their home in Kibbutz Nir Oz, southern Israel, and brutally murdered by Palestinian terrorists while in captivity in Gaza: 

"Mi Amor"

I remember the first time I said "mi amor" to you. It was at the very beginning of our relationship. You told me to only call you that if I was certain I loved you, not to say it carelessly. I didn't say it then because I didn't want you to think I was rushing to say "I love you." Shiri, I'll confess to you now that I already loved you back then when I said "mi amor."

Shiri, I love you and will always love you!

Shiri, you are everything to me!

You are the best wife and mother there could be.

Shiri, you are my best friend.

Mishmish, who will help me make decisions now? How am I supposed to make decisions without you?

Do you remember our last decision together?

In the safe room, I asked if we should "fight or surrender." You said fight, so I fought.

Shiri, I'm sorry I couldn't protect you all. If only I had known what would happen, I wouldn't have fired.

I think about everything we went through together—there are so many beautiful memories.

I remember Ariel and Kfir's births. I remember the days we would sit at home or in a café, just the two of us, talking for hours about everything under the sun. It was wonderful. I miss those times deeply.

Your presence is profoundly missed.

I want to tell you about everything that's happening in the world and here in Israel.

Shiri, everyone knows and loves us—you can't imagine how surreal all this madness is.

Shiri, people tell me they'll always be by my side, but they're not you. So please stay close to me and don't go far!

Shiri, this is the closest I've been to you since October 7th, and I can't kiss or hug you, and it's breaking me!

Shiri, please watch over me...

Protect me from bad decisions. Shield me from harmful things and protect me from myself. Guard me so I don't sink into darkness.

Mishmish, I love you!

Chuki, Ariel,

You made me a father. You transformed us into a family.

You taught me what truly matters in life and about responsibility.

The day you were born, I matured instantly because of you. You taught me so much about myself, and I want to thank you.

So thank you, my beloved.

Ariel, I hope you're not angry with me for failing to protect you properly and for not being there for you. I hope you know I thought about you every day, every minute.

I hope you're enjoying paradise. I'm sure you're making all the angels laugh with your silly jokes and impressions. I hope there are plenty of butterflies for you to watch, just like you did during our picnics.

Chuki, be careful when you climb down from your cloud not to step on Toni...

Teach Kfir all your impressions and make everyone laugh up there.

Ariel, I love you "the most in the world, always in the world," just as you used to tell us.

Poopik, Kfir,

I didn't think our family could be more perfect, and then you came and made it even more perfect...

I remember your birth. I remember during the delivery when the midwife suddenly stopped everything—we were frightened and thought something was wrong—but it was just to tell us we had another redhead. Mom and I laughed and rejoiced.

You brought more light and happiness to our little home. You came with your sweet, captivating laugh and smile, and I was instantly hooked!

It was impossible not to nibble on you all the time.

Kfir, I'm sorry I didn't protect you better, but I need you to know that I love you deeply and miss you terribly!

I miss nibbling on you and hearing your laughter.

I miss our morning games when mom would ask me to watch you before I went to work. I cherished those little moments so much, and I miss them now more than ever!

Kfir, I love you the most in the world, always in the world!

I have so many more things to tell you all, but I'll save them for when we're alone.

Via: The Hostages Families Forum Headquarters

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Lights, Camera, Colombia

💫  Prologue 💫 

Summary: Ten years after he quit the DEA Javi gets approached by a production company, asking if he would like to be involved in the production of a documentary about Pablo Escobar and the drug war. When he agrees, he meets you, one of the producers of the documentary and the woman who he will spend the next months working with on the documentary and travel back to Colombia, the woman who will get to know about the side of him that he never wants anyone to see, the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3k

Rating: G (for now)

Warnings: angst, kind of a meet cute, fluff, a look into Javi's head, mentioned character dead (I'm sorry), a little big of backstory

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Full Masterlist // Javier Peña Masterlist // Lights, Camera, Colombia Masterlist

There was a Colombian restaurant across the street form where Javier lived in San Antonio. 

When he came back from work he would sit on his small balcony with a cold beer and just watch. It wasn’t much different from watching the boats on the Rio Grande back at his papa’s ranch. They had raided the place almost three months ago but now it had opened up again with new owner. 

A little search in the DEA database told him everything he needed to know about those new owners, another raid already in progress within the next week.

The internet would have made his job back in Colombia so much fucking easier. 

Sometimes he wondered how his life would be now if he hadn’t taken the job with the DEA all the years back. He wondered what his life would be like without the nightmares, without the urge to watch over his shoulder when he walked the streets at night.

His therapist told him what he had was PTSD.

And his therapist didn’t even know half of what had happened in Colombia. 

After he emptied his beer he made his way back inside his apartment. It was a good apartment. Big living room, small kitchen, two bedrooms, one of which he used as an office/guest room. Not that he did get any guests. Ever.

It was the space where his computer stood on a desk his father had build for him when he went to high school. It was one of the few things he had taken with him from the ranch when he left Laredo three years ago. 

He didn’t see any point in staying after his father died. 

There was nothing left there for him, except the ghosts from his past.

And those were with him no matter where he went, so why continue to stay back in a town where he was reminded how lonely he was at ever corner?

So when the call from Steve came about the job offer in San Antonio he took it even though he never wanted to be involved with the DEA again. Not that he thought they would take him back anyway after what he had pulled, but things had changed. 

It was around the time that he moved here that he began to write. Write about his life, his experiences in Colombia and about his thoughts. About how everything had changed him.

To a certain point he became numb to his own feelings. He saw so many people die in front of him that he was sure that something inside of him had died too. 

He realised that after he caught his ex girlfriend Alice cheating on him back in Laredo just before his father died. He wasn’t sure if he just didn’t love her anymore or hadn’t loved her at all. They had been together for almost two years and he thought back then that she could be the one. Maybe. 

He now knows that it would have never worked out between them. Not because Alice cheated on him (well maybe that was a factor too) but because he wasn’t sure if he was made to get married. Or be in love. 

He wasn’t sure if he had ever been in love at all if he was honest with himself. 

And so, in a never ending spiral of anxiety and self doubt his therapist, a woman in her sixties called Margery, told him to try to write everything down when it felt like the thoughts were getting too loud, or when he couldn’t fall back asleep after a nightmare. 

And after a year he had written almost 100.000 words of something that Margery said could have people interested if he were to turn it into a book. 

He still remembered her laugh at the look he gave her at hearing that. 

But anyway…

When the offer of this documentary came in the first time, he never even entertained the thought. Writing things down about Colombia for himself was a very different thing from sitting in front of the camera and talking about it to a room full of strangers. 

But then Steve had called and told him that he signed in on it. 

It was a small studio in New York that had been working on several documentaries about the drug war before and once he watched a few of them he entertained the idea of participating. 

Truth to be told he was getting bored. So why not try out something new?

He flew out to Miami to meet up with Steve and the producers to talk things through. 

It’s where he met you for the first time. Well, sort of. You were on the phone from New York and called into the meeting to answer every question the both of them could have. Apparently your flight had been canceled, otherwise you would have been there too.

While he first thought his job would be to only have a few questions to answer in front of a camera he pretty quickly learned that this was not the case at all. 

Originally the idea was for Steve and Javier to both go back to Colombia to revisit some places that were significant to them, and that had been significant for Pablo Escobar and to just speak about their memories about these places.

It would mostly be only them and you with your camera traveling through the country while the rest of the team followed to shoot some of the scenery and be on call should you need them. 

But since Steve couldn’t just leave for six weeks, it would be Javier and you alone for the most time. 

Something he was less than thrilled about. Going back to the place that gave him nightmares with a woman he hadn’t met before? 

He never wanted to smoke as much as he did as they took their lunch break. 

„So you gonna do it?“ Steve was sitting across from him in the restaurant of the hotel they had met up at. Javier would stay at Steve’s place tonight though to visit Conny and the kids and he would never admit it, but he was looking forward to it.  

„Man, I don’t know,“ Javier sighed, rubbing his finger over the moustache he was still rocking no matter how much he got teased about it from anyone.

„Why? Not like anyone is waiting for you at home,“ Steve grinned and Javier rolled his eyes. 

„Fuck you,“ he spat, making Steve laugh. 

Steve didn’t know that he hit a nerve with his jest. Lately he had realised just how lonely he was. He never craved a typical family with a wife and some kids. He never was really lonely before because no matter how many people he pushed away, he knew that back in Laredo, on a ranch he grew up on was his father.

But ever since his father had died, Javier found himself questioning if this was it. If working his nine to five for five days a week, eating single microwave dinners and drinking too much beer in front of the TV would be his life until he just…. Died.

Would people even care? When would someone realise that he was truly gone?

It had been a topic in his latest therapy session that he was still processing. But Steve didn’t know that. He didn’t even know that Javier went to therapy in the first place. 

„I’d go back. Would love to watch everything that somehow had to do with that fucker crumble,“ Steve said with a shrug, before he began to eat his burger. 

Javier sighed. 

What exactly was holding him back?

Steve was right, there was nothing and no one at home waiting for him and frankly, he hated his job. But somehow he had to make a living and there were worse things than spending eight hours a day in an air conditioned room. 

But going back to Colombia?

„I think this could be good for you, Javi,“ Steve said, emptying his glass. 

„How so?“ Javi asked.

„I think you never really got closure on what we did in Colombia. Yeah, you went back for Cali but… all the things that happened while we chased Escobar through the whole country? All the decisions we made? All the deaths? It’s been fucking awful. And I think going back to see that we actually did make a difference? That all those years we spent there were actually worth something? I That we helped the people? I’d fucking love to see that,“ Steve said and Javi looked at him before he leaned back into his chair with a sigh. 

„Fuck, Steve. When did you become so fucking wise?“ Javi said with a small chuckle and Steve shrugged. 

„Got a killer wife at home and a therapist I see regularly,“ he said and Javi was surprised to hear that. Part of him still was ashamed that he had to get help from someone, even though his therapist is slowly convincing him it’s actually pretty damn great that he took the leap of faith to talk to someone. 

Mental health was not really something people talk about, especially men. 

You're either a strong man, who can handle everything that life throws at you or your a fucking pussy if you couldn’t. 

He never understood someone using the term pussy as an insult. Pussies were fucking powerful. Pussies could make men drop to their knees. They gave life, for fucks sake. 

„You know I read that they’re turning Escobar’s home in a fucking waterpark,“ Steve said and Javier snorted. 

„Seriously?“

„And a zoo. Apparently those hippos he brought there have been fucking like… well animals and now there are so many there, they have no idea what to do with them,“ Steve said with a grin, shaking his head, clearly amused. 

„Think they have plush hippos so I can get Olivia one?“ Javier asked and Steve chuckled. 

„Guess you gonna find out huh?“ He got up, slapping Javier on his shoulder. 

„Think we still on some kill lists over there?“ Javi asked as he got up too, walking next to Steve towards the elevator, back towards the floor they had their meeting on. 

„Probably,“ Steve shrugged and Javier rolled his eyes. 

„I have some questions,“ you heard Javier Peña say once the meeting continued. You were sitting in the small meeting room of the production company you worked in. You were alone, everyone else already having gone home to enjoy their weekend. 

You never minded staying longer, loving your work. 

And this project? Well this was very close to your heart. Growing up with the knowledge that your father had been killed because he was one of the patrol officers at the Mexican borders that regularly found the coke that the cartels tried to smuggle into the states, left you to grow up with a hatred towards everything responsible for taking your father from you when you were just four years old. 

You were very passionate about this project and would do almost anything to have one of the DEA Agents that have been involved the most in taking down not only Pablo Escobar but the Cali Cartel too in your documentary. 

„Go ahead. I’m sure I have answers for all of them,“ you said with a smile and heard the men on the other end of the line chuckle. 

„If I agree to this, I need to reach out to some of my contacts beforehand. There is the possibility of me still being on kill lists and that would endanger you and your crew,“ Javier Peña said and you did a little happy dance, because it sounded like he was on board. 

„Of course. If you feel better, I could also arrange for some kind of security…“ you began but were interrupted. 

„No. I would…. I would handle that myself. I just like to be prepared beforehand. I hope you have no problems with me carrying a gun throughout the whole thing, because there’s no way in hell I can go back there without one,“ Javier said and you nodded. 

„Understood. I took extensive shooting classes and I have a gun license too. If you can handle the part of me actually taking a gun to Colombia, I could carry one too,“ you said. 

There was a pause. 

„I’ll think about it,“ he finally said and you nodded. 

„Talk me again through the timeline,“ he said.

„The overall time we would spend in Columbia would be six week. We would fly out to Bogota to meet up. I have a few locations lined up that I would want to visit. I would send you those via email and I would love it if you have some locations that are significant to you too that we could add. Overall I am thinking about three weeks in Bogota and three weeks in Medellin. We would fly out to Medellin, spend time there to go through all the locations and then we would drive back to Bogota. I am currently working on getting the permit to film at what used to be Escobar’s hacienda.“

„Are they really turning it into a waterpark?“ The other man, Steve Murphy asked. You smiled to yourself. 

„Oh yeah. Apparently it got a lot of traffic after Pablo died and people took everything they could find from there. I am also trying to find out how much money was found on the property,“ you said, hearing the man chuckle on the other line. 

„It would be just the two of us,“ Javier said again. You nodded. 

„Yes. The crew would travel with us, and be on call. They will shoot scenery from all the places we visit, but going through those locations and talking? That would be just the two of us and my new travel sized camera,“ you said. 

You had tried the camera out on your nieces third birthday party some weeks ago and were pleasantly surprised by the picture and sound quality. 

You could hear murmuring on the other end of the line and you pursed your lips, your feet nervously tapping on the floor. 

„Fine. Send me the whole plan via email and I will look into it and get back to you with any suggestions. When would we leave?“ Javier asked and you threw your hands in the air in a silent cheer. 

„Middle to end of may. We would have to be back by mid July because I have another job I need to be here for. Interviews would happen sometime in August for a release of the documentary before Christmas.“

„Sounds good to me,“ Javier finally said and you felt like a weight was lifted from your shoulders. 

You had a vision for this project, and you were now so much closer to getting your vision. 

„Thank you Mr. Peña. It’s…. I am looking forward to officially meeting you in Colombia,“ you said.

„Me too. And please call me Javier. Or Javi. Mr. Peña makes me feel fucking old,“ he said.

„You are old, Mr. Peña,“ Steve Murphy said and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you as you heard what sounded like a slap on the other line followed from an Fuck you Javi. 

„Noted, Javier. I will send you the schedule and legal will send you the contract.“

„Please also send me your ID and gun license so I can take care of the permit for Columbia,“ Javier said and you nodded. 

„Will do. Thank you so much for agreeing to do this,“ you said. 

„No need to thank me,“ he said.

„Do you have any more questions?“ You asked. 

„Not right now. If I do I’ll get back to you. I do have you number,“ he said. 

„Perfect. Well then, have a great rest of the day,“ you said. 

„You too,“ he said before they all said goodbye to you and the call disconnected. 

You jumped up and did a little happy dance, feeling so fucking relieved that you had one of them on board for this. With the extensive research you had made on them you had to admit that you would have loved to have Steve Murphy on too, but with him having a family that was waiting for him at home, you could understand that he didn’t want to spend over a month apart from them. 

Javier Peña was a little mystery to you. 

You knew from your research that he had left Columbia just weeks before Pablo Escobar was killed, only to be sent back after to take down the Cali Cartel. Something about the whole thing didn’t seem right to you and you had the hope that spending time with him would lead to answers to that question. 

From your research you also knew that he had a… let’s say unique system on how to get information. You had actually reached out to some of the women he got out of Colombia after finding out about him using prostitutes for information on the cartel members. 

Something an ex CIA agent with the name William Stechner had told you when you had met up with him weeks prior for the possibility of having him on the documentary too. 

An idea you had pretty quickly got rid off after meeting him. 

There was something about the man that left you uneasy, and the thought of spending one on one time with him for too long was not your idea of a great work environment. 

Yes, you wouldn’t meet Javier Peña before Colombia either. But except for Stechner, every single person that you had talked about him had only good things to say about him. So you were going with your intuition and would trust those people. 

That meeting Javier Peña would end up changing your whole life?

Well that was something you hadn’t anticipated in your documentary (or life) plan. 

next chapter

Taglist (please send me an ask if you want to be added to the LCC Taglist, I only have a taglist for this series, not for all of my works)

@pasc4lfuzz// @kirsteng42 // @imdreaminghere // @greenwitchfromthewoods // @theorganasolo // @inept-the-magnificent // @maried01

[captain-hawks]

dee what am I going to do with all these oliver x period sex thoughts you need to either kill me or tell me yours

18+, explicit period sex (fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected p in v, creampie, blood)

being with oliver aiku is an exercise in acknowledging that you're but one of the many that have come before. the shape of his lips, the brush of his fingers, the stretch of his cock—you're well aware you could never hope to be any kind of first for him by any means.

sexually, that is.

(love, perhaps, but that's a conversation for a different day.)

and it's why it catches you entirely off guard on a rainy sunday morning when he glances from your horrified expression to the slick red that stains his fingertips, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully as he muses, "honestly, i haven't done this before."

embarrassment burns hot in your gut as you stare at the blood, watching as he rubs his thumb across the pads of his pointer and middle fingers to smear it over his skin.

"i'm sorry," you manage to get out before burying your face in a pillow.

(which is where it had been moments earlier, when you tiredly rolled over onto your stomach and moaned softly as oliver kissed the back of your neck, tugged your panties to the side, and slid two fingers through your sensitive folds, groaning over how wet you were.)

"why're you sorry?" oliver asks, pressing a kiss to the back of your shoulder.

you turn your head sideways, taking his confused face. "i didn't—i should have realized it was going to start soon..."

oliver blinks, leaning a little closer. "your period?"

you scrunch your eyes shut and nod, another hot wave of embarrassment hitting you, and you belatedly snap your thighs closed. because this happened years ago with your ex, and he was disgusted, and it was awful, and—

"do you not want me to touch you while you're bleeding?" he asks.

you open your eyes, and he looks honest to god earnest.

"do i not want you to?" you echo in confusion (because of the way he's phrased it, what it implies—)

"i haven't done this before, but if you wanted to..." he trails off, sheepish.

you breathe in slowly, trying to digest his words. "you don't...don't you think it's gross?"

oliver nudges your shoulder and your hip, urging you to roll over onto your back.

"i never really thought about it until right now. but feeling how wet you are, seeing it on my fingers..." he looks down at his hand.

you, in turn, notice just how hard he is, cock straining against the confines of his briefs.

"oh," you breathe out. because you feel incapable of getting any other words out at this revelation.

(because it's always been an idle thought, a depraved, filthy fantasy—)

your cunt aches.

"we don't have to do anything if you don't want to—" oliver starts.

(he has no idea.)

"please."

-

you should have known oliver aiku is nothing if not a meticulously thorough lover.

because it wasn't enough for him, slowly teasing the outer rim of your fluttering, empty hole until you were bucking your hips and begging for it. sliding two thick digits into your dripping, hypersensitive cunt. palming his cock through his briefs as he groaned over how hot it was—the red liquid smeared over your cunt and across your inner thighs. the obnoxious wet squelch of blood and arousal as he fucked you on his fingers till you went toppling over the edge (gasping for breath into a messy kiss as he rasped against your lips how beautiful you looked).

it wasn't enough, nearly coming on the fucking spot when he eased his flushed, leaking cock into your pussy (because he's so fucking thick and there's always a stretch as he eases into your tight walls but he slid right balls deep in one slick stroke).

it wasn't enough, the way you trembled and gasped in pleasure, clawing at his back and babbling nonsense and whimpering his name as you begged him to fuck you harder, harder, harder. the sloppy, filthy, depraved feeling of him fucking his cock into your bloody, wet hole.

it wasn't enough for oliver, fingering you and fucking you into a cock drunk mess atop a pile of stained, ruined sheets.

because it still surprises you, after everything, when you feel him nudge your thighs apart once more after he pulls his softening cock out of you.

you shiver as he drags two fingers through your folds, coating the digits in your blood and his cum.

"oliver—" you breathe out, watching as he brings his fingers to his mouth.

as he licks them clean.

"can i?" he asks.

(you're fairly certain you're on the verge of blacking out when oliver brings you to the brink of your third orgasm, red smeared across his chin, fist wrapped around his cock and your fingers buried in his hair. with his tongue buried in your sopping wet cunt as laves at your throbbing clit and laps up every last drop of blood and cum until you're sobbing his name.)

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Learning Curves 2 (M)

★ PAIRING: 00line+Mark x Reader ☆ WORD COUNT: 30k ★ GENRE(S): Smut, PWP, just vibes frfr ☆ SUMMARY: After spending Winter break with Jisung's family, you and Mark reignite a friendship that evolves into FWB. However, when the 00line discovers that you've been skipping out on time with them to be with Mark, they aren’t too pleased. ★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex. creampie, riding, dry humping, cunnilingus, bdsm, leash, use of spreader bar, iceplay, orgasm denial, fingering, voyeurism, shower sex, blowjob, lip biting which causes minor injury, switch Haechan, guided masturbation, choking, slapping, rough/forceful sex, thigh riding, slight coercion, reader gets train ran on her, free use?, MDNI ☆★ NOTES: I’m trying something new where I link the sex position im talking about because i suck at describing them so i usually try to stay away from anything other than missionary and doggy but thats lame and i want to write interesting sex scenes so if your confused on what the hell I'm talking about during a scene just click the link for the photo lmaoooo. LCpt.1 Here ao3 Link (like here before you leave TT)

You pull the blanket tighter around you, trying to warm up. Your space heater is humming in the background hard at work, but it's still not enough to fully heat up the apartment. You've been complaining about the heating system for weeks, and now it seems to have finally broken down.

You scroll through your social media feed and see videos of your friends laughing with their families, enjoying the holiday season together. Honestly, it makes you smile. You're genuinely happy for them, even if it stirs a little longing in your heart. You had opted out of going home for the holidays, you didn’t have the best relationship with your family so you were more than content with staying home. You double-tap on each post when a notification pops up. It's Jisung, he was going home today and had been begging you to come over to help him pack.

You [2:31 pm] Ji for the last time its too cold to go anywhere I finally got warm and Im not getting up again

Ji [2:32 pm] come on!!!! I dont ask you for anything plus how many favors do you owe me??? >:(

With a sigh of frustration, you toss off the blankets. The cold air instantly bites at your skin. It was a lot chillier in your apartment than you realized.

You shiver as you layer up and put on your good boots, the thought of Jisung's warmer apartment lifting your spirits for the time being.

Outside, you have to be careful with your footing. You cautiously make your way to your car and drive to his dorm. When you arrive, you knock and as soon as he opens the door, you reach out and pinch his arm.

“Oww, oww, oww!” He yelps, rubbing at the spot you’d pinched.

“Do you know how cold it is out there?!” you exclaim pushing past him into the room.

You surveyed his dorm room, your gaze taking in the chaotic scene before you. There were mountains of discarded clothes scattered across the floor, seemingly the result of Jisungs carelessness as he rushed to pack. Carefully making your way through the haphazard landscape, you navigate your way toward his bed.

Jisung ignores your complaints, bustling around the room and shoving a few last-minute items into his suitcase. “Listen, I’m sorry! Can you just come sit on this for a sec?” he whines.

You huff but get up anyway. You plop down on his suitcase successfully compressing it while Jisung zips it closed. He fell back onto the floor with a satisfied sigh. You spend the next few minutes helping him straighten up before finally collapsing onto his warm bed. "So," you asked, settling back against the pillows, "is your family doing anything special for the holidays?"

“Yeah, my grandma rented a cabin for the family get-together,” he says, and suddenly looks at you in realization. “Wait, why are you still here? You’re not going home for the holidays?” He asks eyes wide in disbelief.

You shrug, the truth spilling out before you can stop it. “Nah, I don’t really get along with my parents.”

Jisung's expression shifts to concern. “Come home with me! You can’t stay by yourself over the holidays. It would be so much fun!”

You hesitate, considering his offer. You’ve always had a good relationship with Jisung’s family. They’ve welcomed you before, and his mom cooks like a dream. It feels tempting, but you worry about intruding.

“Are you sure it’s not too last minute?” you ask, biting your lip.

Jisung shakes his head vigorously, a determined look on his face. “My mom would kill me if she found out I let you spend the holidays alone. She always says her door is open for you, and I know she’d be so happy to see you. Plus, it’d make things way more fun!”

Maybe your winter break wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

"You have reached the mailbox of…"

Ever since winter break, that’s all Haechan had been hearing. You’d been taking hours to respond to his texts, ignoring his and everyone's calls, and overall being pretty flaky. Whenever they pressed you an explanation, you just responded with half-hearted excuses.

I’m busy.

Sorry, can’t talk right now.

I’ll call you back later.

Finally after several failed attempts he managed to get you to come over under the pretext of a movie night with the guys. You were bundled up together under a heavy blanket, Haechan on one side and Jaemin on the other. The warmth of their bodies keeps away the night's chill. Haechan was working his hand up your thigh when your phone buzzed, casting a soft glow across your face. The smile that spread on your lips made his stomach twist with jealousy. You quickly typed something back and locked your phone before he could catch a glimpse of what had made you light up.

You let out a fake yawn, stretching your arms above your head. “Sorry, guys, I think I’ll have to call it a night.”

Before he could protest, you were already gathering your things. “You don’t want to stay for a little while longer. We’ve only got an hour left of the movie,” Jeno called from his spot on the couch, looking slightly disappointed.

“Sorry pup, I can’t,” you said, walking over to him and stealing a quick peck on his lips.

As you turned to leave, Haechan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. When the door closes behind you he turns to his roommates. “She’s replacing us, isn’t she?” Haechan muttered.

“Dude, relax. It’s late she’s probably just tired,” Jeno replied, trying to be the logic that Haechan seemed to lack.

“Well, she could have slept over here! Nothing was stopping her before!” Haechan shot back.

“Would you two shut up? I’m trying to watch the movie!” Renjun snapped, glancing at them with irritation.

“And I’m trying to fuck, so I guess we’re both out of luck!” Haechan grumbled, throwing his head back against the couch.

Jaemin, who had been quietly huddled under the blanket, suddenly yanked it away from Haechan, seemingly unwilling to share any longer now that you were gone. “Jeno’s right, she’s probably just tired. Besides, how could she replace us?”

Haechan wanted to believe Jeno, to cling to the hope that you were telling the truth and were just too busy. But as the minutes passed and the movie flickered on, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his gut that something else was going on.

—

You were sitting at your vanity, doing your makeup when your phone buzzed with a notification. A smile crept onto your face as you read the message. Once you slipped on your heels by the door, you left your apartment and headed to join your friends waiting in the car.

“Where is he?” Mia asked curiously.

“He’s going to meet me there,” you replied, feeling your heart flutter in excitement at the thought of seeing him.

“I can’t believe you two are talking again!” Yuna cooed, her eyes wide with playful disbelief.

The car was filled with the sound of laughter and gossip as you caught up with your friends, sharing stories about what happened over winter break. You can't help but sing along to the music that plays in the car as your friends chatted excitedly about the night ahead. You belted out the lyrics to your favorite song, your voice a little off-key but you don’t care, you were tipsy and in a great mood. You felt a twinge of guilt for forcing the uber driver to listen to your terrible singing and the all-too-detailed gossip.

Once you arrive at the party, the bass of the music has your blood rushing with excitement. The living room was packed with people on the makeshift dance floor. You and the girls quickly made your way to the kitchen, where the clinking of glass and shouts of joy sound off into the night. You grabbed a couple of drinks and toasted to a night of fun.

It wasn’t long before your friends began to scatter, each one disappeared into the sea of bodies, eyes sparkling with trouble as they searched for their one-night stands. You didn’t mind, you hadn’t come to the party for them. Your heart was set on finding the one person you had been eagerly waiting to see all night. With a determined smile, you navigated through the crowded living room.

“Mark!” you called, spotting him talking with a few friends. As soon as he heard your voice, he looked up and broke into a smile. He quickly made his way over and engulfed you in a warm hug.

“You look so pretty, baby,” he said, eyes roaming over the dress you had picked out for the night.

You turn shy under his compliment. “Thank you,” you murmured, feeling a timid smile tugging at your lips.

Mark turned to his friends and excused himself, allowing you to drag him away. The house was dimly lit but you could still see how excruciatingly handsome he was under the flashing lights. You navigated through the mass of people until you reached the dance floor. His hands found your waist. He pulled you against him, your back pressed firmly against his chest before swaying your hips in time with the music.

His breath fanned against your neck as he leaned in. “Pretty girl…” he murmured, trailing hot kisses down your neck. “Want me to take you home?”

You catch his gaze as you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes are dark with desire and you can feel yourself growing wet already. You turned in his embrace until you were facing him, pressing your lips against his as you nodded eagerly. He grabbed your hand, leading you through the crowd, a wicked smile dancing on your face as you followed him.

Once outside, he pushed you up against his car, his lips claiming yours again. You hear the car beep as he fumbles with his keys to unlock it. Your hands tangled in his hair as he explored your body, fingers gliding up your thigh and pushing your dress dangerously high. You needed him now, you couldn’t wait. Glancing around to ensure the coast was clear, you pulled him into the backseat of the car, the tinted windows providing the perfect level of privacy.

Unbeknownst to you, another car had been watching you since they pulled up nearby. Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, and Jaemin were inside, their eyes locked onto the scene unfolding before them.

Renjun had given everyone a pep talk on the drive here about finding someone to hook up with to distract from thoughts of you. Renjun had put the car in park when he saw you stumbling across the street.

“Is that Jisung’s cousin?” Renjun asked, squinting at the sight before him.

“Where?” Haechan perked up, looking up from his phone.

“So that's where she’s been?” Jaemin questioned.

“No way, maybe they’re just friends,” Jeno said, but he quickly corrected himself. “Or not,” he muttered, watching as Mark pushed you against the car and kissed you passionately.

A humorless laugh escaped Haechan’s lips. “I fucking told you guys.” He says, eyes following the way your fingers tangle in Mark's hair.

They had intended to get out of the car, but now they found themselves watching in stunned silence as the vehicle rocked and the windows fogged up. They weren’t quite sure how long they sat there until you finally slid out of the backseat, pulling your dress down haphazardly. a stupid grin plastered itself on your face as you climbed into the passenger seat.

Jaemin knew that look. You were fucked out and it was driving him up a wall that he wasn’t the one who did it.

“Don’t let this discourage you,” Renjun chimed in, forcing the most upbeat tone he could manage. “We can still have fun, right guys?” But one glance around the car told him it wasn't the right moment for another pep talk.

They had finally realized why you had been acting strange and no one was in the mood to party.

Earlier, inside the car…

Mark was lost in a haze of desire, pushing your dress up past your hips. His warm hands setting your skin ablaze against the cool night air. You straddled his waist and grind against him, the rough fabric of his jeans provided a delicious friction that left you shuddering. His lips left bruises along your collarbone, and you tugged at his hair, bringing him closer for another heated kiss. His lips were so soft, like plush clouds you could easily get lost in—they were absolutely perfect. You kissed him feverishly, your hands roaming over the skin beneath his shirt. Exploring the contours of his strong chest, your fingers trailed downward until they hovered at his waistband. You nipped at his bottom lip playfully before pulling away.

“Are you going to let me have it?” you asked sweetly, blinking up at him with pleading eyes.

“You deserve it, baby. Take it,” he breathed, his voice filled with urgency.

With a quick motion, you unzipped his pants and positioned yourself over him, tracing his tip through your folds, soaking him in your juices. Every brush against you sent shivers up your spine.

“That’s it, baby, just like that. It’s yours, go ahead,” he encouraged, his voice a low whisper.

You sank down onto him with a moan, feeling him fill you completely. He was deep and the sensation was everything you’d craved. You lost yourself in the rhythm, pulling him to kiss you again as you rode him. His hands grip your hips harshly as you take him. His breaths were choppy and his eyes fluttered, unable to stay open from the pleasure. You circle your hips fluidly, it was a trick that you knew drove haechan crazy, you wonder if it would work on mark?

HIs hips thrust up sharply and he groaned. He spread his thighs a little wider and tilted his head back. “Fuck,” he groaned, his breath hitching. “You feel so good.”

You were just getting started, you were going to drive him crazy. You slam your hips down hard, a sharp contrast of the precise movements a moment ago. You bounce on his cock roughly, grinding down hard when his hips meet yours. You leaned back on his knees for leverage and continued to ride him. His hands try to hold your hips still. He needed a moment, he didn't want to cum yet.

“Let go, baby, I got you,” you whispered, determined to push him to the brink.

He shook his head, desperation lacing his voice. “Not yet, I can’t.”

The next moment he's pulling you off of him. He was strong and despite your best efforts you couldn't stop him from switching your positions. He had pinned you down on your back, legs over his waist and lips pressed against yours. He needed a moment to catch his breath and he could tell from the look in your eyes you weren't going to give him one unless he took control.

“Be a good girl and do what I say,” he warned.

You nodded obediently. You would do whatever he wanted to get him back inside of you, you didn't care. “Keep those legs open,” he instructed, then finally pushed inside you.

You bite back a loud moan as he thrusts into you. His face was buried in your neck as he drove himself into you deeper and deeper. Your head was hitting the car door with each thrust but you were too far gone to care. You wrapped your legs tight around his waist and pulled him into you with each thrust. You were close and with a few more sharp thrusts you were spilling all over him and dripping down the leather seats of his car.

“Look at you, making such a mess,” Mark moaned, his grip tightening on your cheeks as he opened your mouth. “Dirty fucking girl,” he whispered before spitting into your mouth. His pointer and middle finger rest against your tongue as he makes sure you swallow it before hooking his fingers into your mouth. He fucks you like that, eyes glazed over as he watches you suck against his fingers

His hips grow erratic, the sight of you, saliva dripping down your face and pussy spasming around his cock in overstimulation pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside of you and watched the cum drip as he pulled out.

When you eventually slipped out of the car, a stupid smile plastered itself across your face. Clenching your legs tight, you tried to hold him inside as you settled into the passenger seat. Little did you know, four pairs of eyes were still watching from the distant shadows.

—

"So, where did you and Mark run off to last night?" Yuna asks, flanked by your other friends, Mia, Chenle, and Yang Yang, as you make your way to the library.

“A true lady never kisses and tells,” you respond, lifting your chin defiantly.

“Except you’re not a lady, you’re a whore,” Mia elbows you playfully. “Now spill! What’s going on with you and Mark? Last I checked, you ghosted him.”

“You guys are so nosy,” you roll your eyes.

“Stop acting like it’s not killing you to keep this a secret,” Chenle urges.

You huff, feigning annoyance. “Fine! Since you guys won’t stop hounding me…”

A chorus of cheers and laughter erupts from the group, and you can’t help but smile shyly.

“We started talking again over winter break, during Jisung’s family vacation.”

“Wait, he was there?” Chenle asks, surprised.

“Duh, idiot. It’s called a family vacation for a reason,” Yang Yang retorts, shoving Chenle lightly.

As the group grows increasingly chaotic, you near the library. “Alright, guys, I’ll tell you everything later, but for now, shoo! I’m meeting Mark at the library.”

A chorus of teasing “ooohs” rings out as you wave them away like pesky flies.

When you arrived with Jisung to spend the holidays with his family, you were completely surprised to see Mark roll in later that day. You hadn’t expected Mark to be there. You should have anticipated it, given that they’re cousins, but it totally slipped your mind. At first, it was awkward given the fact that you had ghosted him for seemingly no reason, and now here you were at his family vacation trying to make small talk.

You eventually hashed things out and grew closer. You spent the break catching up with Mark while hanging out with Jisung and his family. After the break, you had started hanging out alone more frequently. It felt like a spark reignited between you two.The tension in your hangouts grew, conversations became flirtatious, and lingering gazes turned heated, until one of those moments finally snapped. You and Mark tangled together, exploring each other desperately while he fucked you six ways to sunday. You had agreed to keep things casual, Mark had just gotten out of a relationship a few months ago and wasn’t ready to dive back in.

That’s what led you to your current situation.

It’s not that you wanted to flake on the guys; you just happened to be really into Mark right now. You used to be so down bad for him, and now that you finally had him in your clutches, you weren’t letting go anytime soon.

You're sitting at a table in the back of the library as you flip through the pages of your textbook. You burst into a fit of giggles at something Mark says. He was seated next to you, his own reading material disgarded as he leaned over your shoulder trying to help you study. The way he leans in, his warm breath grazing your ear as he explains the lesson, sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Meanwhile, Haechan, sitting with Renjun at a nearby table, narrows his eyes as he spots you and Mark at the back of the library. “She can’t be serious,” Haechan mutters, incredulous.

Mark is unnecessarily close, his finger tracing a line in your textbook. You catch his eye and share a playful glance, and it makes your heart race. Haechan groans in annoyance at your obvious flirting. The way you're biting your lip and laughing at everything Mark says was aggravating. There's no way Mark was that funny!

“Shhh! Ms. Song already said if she has to kick us out again, we’re banned from the library,” Renjun interjects quietly, shooting Haechan a sharp look.

“Is she seriously ditching us for him? What’s so special about him, anyway?” Haechan grumbles, crossing his arms. Here he was, supposed to be studying, having begged Renjun to tutor him, only to be distracted by you.

“After what we saw last night, he’s probably some kind of sex god. I mean, did you see the look on her face when they got out of the car?!” Renjun says sarcastically. A smirk creeped onto his face, knowing the image he just painted is pushing all of Haechan’s buttons.

“I could do that! That should have been me!” Haechan waves his hands in mock frustration, his voice rising a little too high.

“Shhh!” Renjun hisses again, glancing around nervously to see if anyone is listening.

“Do you even care?” Haechan whispers furiously, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Renjun lets out a long, exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, I care, but unlike you, I’m mature enough to let it go! Now please,” he says, placing a finger over his lips in a quieting gesture.

Haechan grumbles under his breath but sinks back into his chair, arms crossed stubbornly. However, his eyes remain glued to you and Mark. He’s acutely aware that the lines etched across his forehead are deepening, and he’s sure he’ll regret it later when wrinkles form, but right now, he can’t tear himself away from the sight of Mark’s hand dipping below the table slyly.

—

You stood on the porch, knocking on the door a little louder than necessary. The cold weather seeped into your bones, and you hoped someone would be home to let you in. You had called earlier, but no one had answered. Mark was sick, and your other friends were all busy with work or studies. Bored out of your mind, you were looking for some fun.

You knew they were likely angry with you, after all, you'd been ignoring them for most of the week. Despite that, you felt confident they'd relent and let you in once they got a look at what you had on. Under your coat you made sure to dress in the shortest silk shorts and a top that was all cleavage and no coverage. Although you were practically freezing outside, you figured it was worth it for the extra brownie points it might earn you.

As you knocked again, a messy-haired Jeno opened the door. His headphones hung from his neck, and a gaming controller was in his hand. He looked surprised to see you, and for a moment, he simply stared. You smiled sweetly and ushered yourself inside as he stood frozen, his eyes fixed on your outfit.

Once you were warm and out of the cold, you looked around the quiet house for everyone else. "Where is everyone?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Jeno shrugged, putting his controller down on the counter. "I don't know, they've been gone for a while." He raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting to your cleavage again. "Who were you coming to see?"

You laughed and tilted your head, moving closer to him. "No one in particular. I was just bored and missed you guys."

"Missed us, but can't pick up the phone?" he joked, moving to sit on the couch.

You smiled and got comfortable on his lap,your legs caging him in as you straddled his waist. "Are you mad?" you asked him, your eyes meeting his.

Jeno shook his head softly, his gaze locked on your lips. "Could never be mad at you."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt your face heat up. Suddenly, you couldn't meet his gaze anymore.

Jeno leaned in, his voice teasing. "Why are you acting all shy, little bird?"

You bury your face in his neck. "You're making me nervous."

Jeno's hands moved to rest on the tops of your thighs, and he massaged the skin there. "Now you see how I feel. Come on, look at me."

You finally brought your gaze back to his, and Jeno's eyes locked onto yours. His expression was soft and adoring, and you felt a flutter in your chest. "We have some time before they get back," he said. "Let me have you to myself, hmm?"

You nod and his lips cover yours in a needy kiss, your tongues and teeth in a passionate battle. You hold on to his face, returning the kiss with just as much fever. You can feel his sharp jaw flex under your fingertips as his mouth opens wider and a low moan escapes him. His hands slide lower, resting on your ass before he sits up and effortlessly lifts you. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

He drops you gently on the mattress, and you look up at him as he pulls his shirt off his body. The way he gazes down at you reveals the quiet longing in his eyes. He crawls onto the bed, looming over you with a teasing smile that makes your pulse quicken with excitement.

“Are you gonna be a big girl and take your clothes off, or do you need my help?”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for another kiss. You feel playful as you brush your lips against his teasingly. “I think I can manage, but then again…” You give him a smirk. “If you’re offering your help, who am I to refuse?”

He closes the distance once more, smiling into the kiss as his hands deftly strip you of your clothes. Once he's got you naked he kicks off his jeans, the sound of fabric hitting the floor echoing in the quiet room. You reach for the waistband of his briefs, eager to take the next step, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them against the pillow.

“Let me take my time,” he warns.

He gropes your breasts, his hands warm as he teases your nipples, sending shivers of pleasure racing through your body. With a swift motion, he kicks your legs open, sliding a knee between them, and your hips automatically grind down against it, seeking the friction you desperately crave. Your body is restless and all you want is to put your hands on him, to feel every inch of his skin against yours.

In your fight to keep your hands still, they slip under the pillow, where your fingers graze something cool and leather. Curiosity piqued, you pulled it out, and your eyes widened at the sight before you.

“A leash?” you ask, your voice laced with surprise.

Jeno’s head pops up, his face turning beet red as he processes the leather leash and collar in your hands. He glances between the items and your face, his mouth open, fumbling with whatever sentence he's trying to form.

“Uh…I—” He stumbles over his words, clearly flustered, and you can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

“Didn’t know you were this freaky,” you tease, arching an eyebrow as you lean in closer. “You like to leash your partners? Kinky.”

He looks down shyly, biting his lip in embarrassment. “No, that’s not it…”

An inquisitive “Hmm,” escapes your lips before the realization dawns on you. “No way! Our puppy likes to be leashed?” you say excitedly. “That’s so hot!”

In an instant, he snatches the items out of your hands, his cheeks still flushed. “You’re just teasing, it’s not funny,” he retorts, rolling his eyes.

“I’m serious,” you insist, grabbing his face to force him to meet your gaze. “I want to try.”

The look he gives you is one of pure puppy-dog innocence, those large, expressive eyes reflecting the desire that's swirling in his stomach. You can’t contain your excitement at the thought of slipping the collar around his neck. With careful hands, you tighten the collar and attach the leash, you smile at the dominance you now wield.

Giving an experimental tug, you pull him closer until he’s a breath away, his warm breath fanning across your skin. It’s like a light switch flips, suddenly he's looking down at you, gaze dark like a predator despite being the one leashed.

He lets you wrap your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back as you urge his body closer. Jeno buries his face back into your chest, grinding against you, and you can feel the heat radiating from both of your bodies. You desperately cling to each other, hips moving with need, and you realize just how wet you are when the front of his briefs quickly become soaked by your arousal. Heaving breaths fill the room, mingling with your desperate moans that you can no longer hide. Each drag of his hips sends red hot pleasure through you, but you’re growing tired of his teasing. He knows what you want, all you can think about is feeling him inside you, but he seems determined to rile you up. You might be the one holding the leash, but somehow it feels like he’s still the one in control.

Frustrated, you tighten your grip, tugging him away from your chest. His forehead rests against yours giving you his full attention. Your hand trails down his body, skimming over his toned abs until you reach the waistband of his briefs. This time, he allows you to pull them down, and his eyes widen, round and innocent, as you grip him in your hand.

A low moan escapes him, reverberating through his body as he instinctively thrusts into your grasp. His eyes screw shut, and his head falls against your shoulder in sheer ecstasy. “That’s my good boy,” you whisper, a wicked smile curling your lips as pleasure overtakes him. His soft whimper in response makes you feel powerful.

But it's fleeting. He sits back, his leash glides between your fingertips as he pulls himself away from your grasp. He was still teasing and you were growing sick of it.

“Come on puppy, be good,” you coax. “I need you.”

A playful smile creeps across his lips. “You’ve got me,” he assures, finally relenting to the irresistible pull of your legs urging him inside of you.

In the next moment, he slips between your legs and slides into you. You’re so ready for him, slick and inviting, and you moan his name like a prayer. He has missed you—every delicious inch of you. He’s right where he needs to be.

Your grip on the leash tightens as he begins to fuck you with a steady rhythm. His hands grip your thighs roughly, pulling you against him with each thrust, making you feel every inch of him. When you slide up the bed, he yanks you back down and pins you in place to make you take it.

Suddenly, he manhandles you onto your side with ease, throwing one of your legs over his hip. His strokes turn deep and slow, hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back. You can’t help but squeeze him just right in this position, and he revels in it, those dark eyes locked onto yours with intensity.

His hands roam freely, groping and kneading your ass until he lands a harsh slap against the skin there, causing you to jolt in surprise. You glare at him playfully and in retaliation, you yank the leash roughly, asserting control. When his gaze meets yours, fire ignites behind those enticing eyes, and a wicked smirk dances across his lips.

He flips you over, twisting your body until you are on your hands and knees. He's on one knee behind you and the other is bent to keep your leg propped open. He drags his heavy cock through your wet folds, ready to take what’s his. He’s deep, you can barely catch your breath, each strong thrust knocking the air from your lungs. One of your legs is suspended over his and you're unable to do much but submit to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

You can feel your arms growing weak from holding yourself up, threatening to cave under the bliss. When Jeno notices, he deliberately drops his leg, and you collapse into a classic doggy style. Instantly, he pushes your head into the sheets, grinding into you before his hips pick up their relentless pace.

You moan loud and unashamed, surrendering completely to him as he continues to wreck you, his every thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. When you look back over your shoulder, your breath hitches at the sight.

Jeno's chest heaves up and down, sweat glistening and trickling down to his happy trail. His hair, once lightly tousled, now spikes up in every direction, a testament to the way you'd run your fingers through it. The collar sits snug around his neck—a beautiful accessory that seems to belong there. The chain of the leash thrashes wildly against his chest with each powerful thrust, creating a rhythm that echoes through the room. His eyes are blown wide with lust, lips swollen from kisses shared, and he looks utterly delectable. In that moment, you can’t believe how you ever forgot just how much fun you had with him, or how stunning he was, and how he made you feel like the center of his universe.

What was a mark, anyway?

All you can think of is Jeno—crave him, worship him—as he fucks you into the sheets, your body begging for more. Each roll of his hips sends you spiraling closer to the edge, and you moan his name over and over in a chant of pure ecstasy.

You wrap your fist around his chain, tugging him down over your shoulder until your lips are just inches apart, and you kiss him as you cum. You don’t loosen your grip—you need him to look you in the eyes. You want to see every ounce of him when he fills you with his cum.

His brows furrow, and his mouth hangs open, breath coming in heavy gasps as he continues to pound into you. His eyelids flutter and he moans. “Harder,” he gasps out and you can’t help but clench around him. You tighten your hold on the leash, effectively choking him just as he reaches his peak.

He grunts loudly, head dropping between your shoulder blades as he spills into you. The sensation pushes you over the edge once more, and the two of you ride out your high together, clinging to each other as you breathe heavily. When he finally catches his breath, he spreads your ass cheeks, pulling out slowly, watching as he drips from your messy cunt.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he murmurs to himself.

As he rolls off you, he takes a moment to regain his composure, and when he does, he goes to grab a towel, gently wiping you down. The soft cloth feels soothing against your skin, and then he dresses you in one of his shirts—a perfect fit, soft, and smelling of him. You help him take off his collar, kissing and massaging the skin of his neck.

Once you’re both settled, he pulls you into his chest, wrapping you in warmth. It was cold outside and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

You don’t remember dozing off, but the soft sounds of movement in the house awaken you later. the guys must have finally returned. You shake Jeno awake, and he stirs, blinking sleepily as he looks up at you.

“I'm leaving, babe. I had fun,” you say softly, laying a gentle kiss on Jeno's cheek. His eyes are still barely open, and he groans something incoherent that makes you giggle before you slip on your shorts and head out of his room still wearing one of his shirts that hangs loosely around you.

As you step into the living room, you catch sight of Renjun sprawled on the couch, intently watching a show he had been raving about. Jaemin is in the kitchen, visibly busy with something that smells heavenly. You stretch and yawn, drawing their attention.

Renjun glances at you with a playful smirk on his face. “Oh, look who came crawling back,” he jokes, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh hush,” you laugh, picking up a nearby pillow and tossing it at him as you pass.

You walk into the kitchen and greet Jaemin, who glances over his shoulder as you approach. “Hi, baby,” he says sweetly, his tone dripping with mock innocence.

You eyed him suspiciously. Of all the guys, Jaemin is the one you were still learning to read but you knew there was something sinister behind that sweet smile. You knew better than to let your guard down. Beneath his seemingly sweet demeanor, he was likely still mad at you for ignoring him. He was the type to smile and say everything was fine while he was plotting his revenge.

“I didn’t poison it, dummy. Try it,” he insists, smiling as he lets you sample the dish. You hum appreciatively at the taste. “This is so good,” you moan, letting the flavors dance on your palate. Then you shoot him with your best pleading eyes. “Does this mean I’m off the hook?”

His smirk widens, and for just a moment, his mask slips, revealing a glimpse of the mischief underneath. “Not by a long shot. You've gotta get yours,” he threatens, playfully slapping your ass.

You shiver at the promise in his words but can’t help but smile at the teasing. Making your way back to Renjun, you wrap your arms around him in a warm hug.

“I missed you too, Junnie,” you coo, peppering his cheeks with kisses. He chuckles, enjoying the affectionate attention.

“Are you staying for dinner?” he asks.

You pretend to ponder, tapping your chin dramatically, before giving in. “Sure, I’ve been dying to see this show you keep telling me about anyway.” Truthfully, you missed spending time with them, and without an early class the next day, there was no reason not to.

Settling comfortably on the couch, you watch as Jaemin plates your food and Renjun glares when Jaemin casually tells him to fix his own plate. A few moments later, Jeno shuffles out of his room, clearly drawn by the scent of food. He plants a sweet kiss on your forehead before heading into the kitchen to fix a plate. You immerse yourself in Renjun’s show and it isn't until you've finished an entire episode that it hits you suddenly.

“Where’s Haechan?” you ask curiously.

“Probably working late on his project again,” Jaemin replies, shrugging. “His partner got sick last minute.”

“That sucks. I really wanted to see him,” you pout, disappointment washing over you.

“Yeah, he’s gonna be pissed when he finds out he missed you,” Renjun laughs.

After watching another episode and enduring about thirty minutes of Jeno and Renjun arguing over the show's plot twist, you finally decide to call it a night. You had contemplated waiting up for Haechan, but it was getting late and you were growing sleepy.

“Alright, guys, I’m heading out,” you say, waving goodbye. They were in the middle of cleaning up from dinner, chatting amiably amongst themselves before looking up at you.

“Drive safe, and get some sleep,” Jaemin calls out while the others wave goodbye.

As you get into your car and pull out of the parking lot, a familiar car rolls in just as you’re about to drive away. Your heart skips a beat when you lock eyes with Haechan in the driver seat. He’s looking at you in shock, not expecting to see you at the apartment. You looked just as shocked until you burst into laughter at the coincidence.

On the drive home all you can think about is how he is so going to kill you for leaving without saying goodbye. You can already envision the annoyance etched across his features when the others tell him about impromptu the hangout you had without him.

—

Mark was over at your apartment, his smile brighter than ever now that he had finally gotten better. You were glued to his side, huddled under a blanket against the winter night's chill. After making hot cocoa topped with marshmallows, you had settled in for a movie, completely engrossed in the plot.

Suddenly, your phone rang, causing you to jump slightly. Mark chuckled at your startled reaction before turning back to the screen, clearly unfazed. You glanced at the caller ID and noticed Jaemin's name flashing. Hesitating for just a moment, you hit the decline button and set the phone face down on the coffee table. A small pang of guilt washed over you, but you quickly brushed it aside, focusing instead on the warmth radiating from Mark beside you.

You turned back to the movie, snuggling deeper into Mark’s embrace. His warm hand rested high on your thigh, fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of your shorts. A smile spread across your face, and you felt your heart warm at his touch. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, prompting him to pull away slightly and meet your gaze with a smile. He then laid a gentle kiss on your forehead, trailing soft kisses down to your cheeks before finally capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, voice teasing.

“Of course! I’m glad you’re feeling better,” you replied, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Mark chuckled. “I knew you couldn’t live without me.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing lightly. “Don’t let it get to your head. I was really just trying to keep myself entertained while you were out of commission.”

“Oh, really?” He raised an eyebrow, that teasing tone making your stomach do flips. “So, I’m just your favorite distraction?”

You laughed, leaning back a little. “I don’t know… this movie is pretty good. You’re not exactly doing a great job of distracting me.”

His laughter filled the room as he pulled you in for another kiss, making you forget all about the movie.

Suddenly, there was a rattling noise as your phone vibrated again on the table.

You ignored it as Mark pulled you into his lap, and the kiss began slowly — soft, and sweet. But as hands began to wander and your chests heaved, the kiss grew needier, more desperate. Finally, your phone stopped ringing, and you sighed in relief into his mouth.

The moment of joy was short-lived when your phone vibrated again. You groaned in frustration, and Mark pulled away, looking at you curiously.

“Don’t you want to answer that?”

You already knew who was blowing you up, and the last thing you wanted was to break the moment with a call from Jaemin. You had finally gotten to see Mark after weeks apart, and you would not let anyone come between you.

“I’m good,” you said absentmindedly, leaning in to steal his lips in another kiss.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked, his words muffled against your mouth as you pressed more kisses to his lips.

You huffed in frustration. He clearly wasn't going to drop it until you answered. “Fine.”

You swiped your phone from where it lay on the coffee table and headed into your room, trying to keep your expression neutral.

“What!” you whispered-yelled in irritation when you answered.

“Renjun wanted me to ask when you were coming over for game night.” Haechan’s voice came through in amusement.

“Renjun told you to ask when I was coming over for game night? at 11:30 pm?”

"Yes"

“We haven't had game night in 2 months…” “Which is why I was trying to get that ball rolling again.”

You sign in frustration. “Did Renjun also tell Jaemin to call me or was that you?”

“You probably should have answered that. You know how he gets when you ignore his calls,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “He hates that.”

You sighed. “Haechan, what do you want?”

“I miss you. I want to know why you’re ignoring me. You stopped by the other day and didn’t even say hello.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not ignoring you, I promise. I was waiting up, but I didn’t know how long you would be,” you replied, your voice softening as you tried to explain. “I have to go though, I’m doing something.”

“Something named Mark? We all saw you with him. You know, that night at the party when you thought no one was looking,” he laughed darkly. “I already don’t like sharing you. You’re my pretty girl, aren’t you?”

The realization hit you hard. Jaemin had seemed off, and now you understood you might be in deeper trouble than you thought.

“Right now, I’m about to be your worst nightmare if you don’t stop blowing me up, and what I did that night is none of your business.”

“You don’t have time for me because you’re with him. I think that is my business,” Haechan pressed.

“I— I don’t have time for this, Haechan! I have to go!” Without waiting for a reply, you hung up, your mind racing. You rubbed a hand down your face, feeling the anxiety clawing at your insides. You were so screwed.

Taking a deep breath, you headed back out to the living room where Mark was waiting.

“Everything good?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

"Everything is perfect," you insisted, forcing a smile to mask your irritation. You couldn’t let the situation with Haechan ruin this moment. Not now.

Mark studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he picked up on the tension in your voice. You could see him searching your face, wanting to know what had just happened during your phone call.

“Are you sure?” he asks gently.

“Let’s just start another movie,” you suggested, getting up to grab the remote.

Mark’s hand found yours when you sat back down, squeezing gently. “Whatever you want, as long as I can hold you.”

—

Ever since that night, you and Haechan had been at odds with each other. If he hadn’t already hated Mark for leaving him with a project to complete alone, he definitely loathed him now for stealing you away.

“Don't let him get to you,” Yuna said, gliding gracefully in circles around you. She had practically dragged you out from under your blankets, ripping you away from the warmth of your heater to join her for some ice skating. Winter was her favorite time of year, but for you? The cold, the snow, and those bleak, gloomy skies felt more like a punishment than the jolliest season of the year.

You struggled to keep your balance on the ice, frowning at her as she effortlessly skated. “He’s being such an asshole right now. Acting like I’m going to just get rid of him or something!”

“Well, are you?” she teased, gliding up to you and grabbing your hands just in time to stop you from completely losing your balance.

There weren't many people at the rink tonight; the already chilly air grew frigid as the sun dipped behind the horizon.

“Of course not! I’m not getting rid of anyone. I just want to spend more time with Mark, that’s all. They’ve had their fun with me, it’s Mark’s turn,” you insisted, your voice wavering slightly as you shifted your weight.

“Our favorite little plaything,” she cooed, scratching under your chin like you were a cat.

“Stop, you’re so annoying!” you laughed, playfully shoving her away. You instantly regretted it as you lost your balance and fell.

Yuna burst into laughter, causing you to glare up at her. “I’m taking a break,” you pouted, waddling off the ice.

“Aw, come on! That was hilarious!” she called out, her voice trailing off in the distance as you moved to the safety of the bench just outside the rink.

You plopped down on the bench and let out a dramatic huff. Lifting your bag onto your lap, you dug through it in search of your phone, hoping that scrolling through some funny videos would lift your spirits. Instead, you found a text message from Haechan waiting for you.

Sunnyboy [8:00pm] miss how you feel pretty girl :(

Haechan had been torturing you for the past week in retaliation for you not making time for him. He had been bombarding you with pictures, showing himself gripping what was hidden beneath his grey sweats, videos of him stroking himself, his tip red and glistening with precum, and the worst of all—voice memos. If there was one thing you adored about Haechan other than what he could do with his mouth, it was his voice. The way he moaned drove you wild, he had a talent for begging so sweetly it made you weak and he knew it. In every voice memo he sounded like a slut and it was pushing all the right buttons. You needed him badly but he had to give you a taste of your own medicine first.

Whenever you tried to confront him, he feigned ignorance, playing coy like he had no idea what you were talking about. Over the phone, he would call just to tempt you, making you listen to him jerk off. His mic would pick up everything, the slick sounds his fingers made as he pumped himself to the sinful moans that he doesn't bother to hold back all before hanging up, leaving you wanting more. But when he was face-to-face with you, he acted like a saint, full of restraint. You had forgotten that while horny Haechan was a menace, brat Haechan was even worse.

He wouldn’t be satisfied until you came crawling to him on your knees, begging for forgiveness, and that was

Never.

Going.

To.

Happen.

You left him on read, knowing he would ignore your reply anyway, and made your way back onto the ice, hoping to escape the thoughts of him.

Later, you walked around town with Yuna, enjoying your little girls' outing. You loved hanging out with your friends, but one-on-one time felt more intimate in a way you cherished. You listened as Yuna shared stories about her winter break and showed you pictures of her dogs back home. She was eager for you to meet Menchi, the dog she had rescued from behind a froyo shop.

“You should have told me you weren’t going home for the holidays. I would have taken you with me!” she pouted. “You know my mom loves you.”

“As do they all,” you shrugged confidently. “Watch out—I might just become your stepmom.”

“Gay,” Yuna shot back, tossing a marshmallow from her cup at you. You had found a cozy late-night café to warm up before heading home.

“I’m an opportunist,” you replied, mixing your drink before taking a sip. You had gotten some wine, and the longer you stayed there, the more you loved the atmosphere. At night, the café transformed into a social club, serving up alcoholic beverages. You needed something to get your blood pumping and you were tired of hot cocoa.

Your phone buzzed beside you, and you sigh as you see Haechan’s name on the screen again. Sunnyboy [10:23] Video attachment

"Who is it?" Yuna asked, sipping her coffee while trying to look at your screen. You quickly locked your phone before she could catch a glimpse. You didn’t need her seeing the outrageous things Haechan sends you.

"It's Haechan; I'm sorry. Give me a moment," you replied, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Once you were safe behind a stall, you unlocked your phone and navigated back to his messages. The bathroom was empty, but you still turned the volume down, cautious as you played the video. At first, you weren't sure what you were seeing until the camera angle shifted, and you gasped.

You couldn't see much, just a girl with her head in Haechan's lap, her hair obscuring her face and most of her actions. You turn the volume up a little and from the sounds of the video, it became clear what was happening. Haechan's hand rested on the back of her head, pushing it down until she was gagging. He moaned, holding her there until he finally let her come up for air. The video is short and sweet but you're still annoyed by the end of it. You noticed a message you had missed earlier beneath it. Sunnyboy [10:24] I can have fun without you too dont worry ur still my pretty grl

You shouldn’t be upset; you knew he wanted that reaction from you. If you showed your anger, it meant he had won, but damn, were you furious. You locked your phone and stormed out of the bathroom.

"What's wrong?" Yuna asked, concern etched on her face.

"Nothing. What were we talking about again?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. Yuna wanted to pry but saw the look in your eyes and knew now was not the time.

—

One way or another, you were going to show Haechan that you weren't the one to play with. You wouldn't fault him for going around and sleeping with other girls, you couldn’t, considering you were intimate with almost his entire friend group. However, you knew he was doing it to get under your skin, to provoke a reaction from you. And that's what infuriated you the most.

You had reached out to Renjun to see who was home, and he sent a text back letting you know it was just Jaemin and Haechan. You cursed under your breath, disappointed that Renjun wasn't home. He was the most suitable person to help you get under Haechans skin. If not him, then even Jeno would do, but you really wanted to avoid Jaemin. His punishment was not something you were looking forward to, but you steeled yourself, knowing it was a necessary evil in your quest for revenge against Haechan.

You were determined to get revenge, no matter the cost. You would walk through fire to make Haechan pay, and that included facing the punishment Jaemin was going to give you. You could only avoid it for so long. It was time to rip the band-aid off and if you could inflict some well-deserved payback on Haechan in the process, all the better. You [8:57] my prince wru doing today? Nana [9:00] well arent u sweet Im at home why? You [9:01] can i come thru? I miss you Nana [9:15] Oh now you miss me You [9:16] Please jaem im sorry Nana [9:45] You know your in trouble when you get here right?

When you knock on the door, it swings open to reveal Haechan, casually dressed in an oversized white t-shirt and shorts, a devilish smirk plastered across his face. His eyes take in your figure, and it’s clear he thinks he’s already won this round. The cute pink set you wore just for Jaemin catches his attention, and a flicker of desire ignites behind his gaze. You can tell you’ve got him hooked, but you have other plans.

With a determined stride, you walk past Haechan, refusing to give him a glance, fully aware of the heat of his gaze boring into your back. You get a rush of satisfaction the moment you catch a glimpse of his expression shifting from smug confidence to disappointment when he realizes you aren’t there for him. You can’t help but smile to yourself, knowing that Jaemin's punishment is about to be so worth it. Before Haechan can react or try to get his hands on you, you slip into Jaemin’s room, shutting the door firmly behind you before locking it.

Jaemin is already perched on the edge of his bed, waiting for you. His relaxed posture exudes an air of dominance that sends a thrill down your spine. He's got an easy smile on his face that you know not to trust. He sports a fitted black tank top, clinging just right, and loose grey sweats that hang low on his hips as his legs spread wide. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow from a bedside lamp creating an intimate atmosphere.

You give him your sweetest smile, making sure to sway your hips as you close the distance. Standing between his legs, you let your hand come to rest on his jawline, your thumb grazing his cheek as he looks up at you. He’s so pretty—pretty eyes, pretty lips, and pretty lashes that frame his gaze perfectly. Behind that pretty exterior lies something dangerous but alluring.

“I love that color on you, princess. It’s my favorite,” he murmurs, his eyes roving over your figure.

You lean down, capturing his lips in a quick kiss. “Thank you, Jaem. I know” you reply.

Maybe he wasn’t as mad as you thought.

“Did I say you could touch me?” His voice drips sweetly, yet the underlying bite sends a shiver through you.

Or maybe he was

You can feel the weight of your impending punishment closing in on you. Instantly, you pout and drop to your knees, resting your head against one of his thighs as you look up at him, your hand soothing the other.

“Don’t be like that, Jaem. I said I was sorry,” you plead, giving him your most pitiful puppy dog eyes.

His hand comes up, cupping your cheek with surprising tenderness, and you close your eyes, relishing the sweet caress. But suddenly, his grip shifts to the back of your head, yanking your hair until you’re forced to meet his glare.

“I thought I asked you a question,” he states, eyes darkening. “I know you heard me, baby. Did I say you could touch me?”

“No, sir,” you whisper, a shiver of anticipation coursing through you.

“Hands behind your back,” he commands, releasing your hair.

You comply, settling back on your knees, heart racing as you await his next command.

“Don’t give me that look, baby. You know I hate being mean,” he says, standing up from the bed and moving to his closet. When he returns, it’s with a box of toys—the sight makes you clench your thighs involuntarily. “You know I treat you like a princess when you deserve it.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just—”

“Busy with Mark?” He tilts his head in question as he rummages through the box, pulling out a few toys. “I’m not mad. Just tell me one thing, does he fuck you better than I can?”

You swallow hard, biting back a whine. “No, sir,” you finally manage, desperation creeping into your voice.

“Then why does he get your attention while I get ignored?” The question hangs heavy in the air, and you know you have no answer.

“Looks like I just need to remind you who you belong to. Get undressed.”

Once you’re completely bare before him, he nods to the bed, and you get on the mattress, kneeling near the edge, obediently waiting for his instructions.

“Do you trust me, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe.

“I’ve got a new toy. Can I try it with you?” He pulls out a bar with cuffs on either side and cuffs in the middle, designed to keep your legs open and your hands bound.

“What is that?” you ask, tilting your head in curiosity.

“It’s to keep you open for me,” he explains, voice smooth as silk. “Do you want to try?

Mind racing, you nod eagerly before catching yourself. “Yes, sir,” you correct, using your words. It had been awhile since you had been with Jaemin so you had to remember his rules

“Hands and knees then precious,” he commands.

As you position yourself, a mix of nervousness and excitement bubbles inside you. You had never been bound like this before. You could feel yourself dripping and you had almost forgotten this was all for your punishment. He secures the velcro cuffs around your ankles, and makes you thread your arms underneath your body, binding your wrists to the bar in the center. Face down, ass up, spread wide—completely at his mercy. A breathless gasp escapes you as you realize just how vulnerable you’ve become, the anticipation coursing through your veins like electricity. You can feel butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“Jaemin,” you whine.

"Are you okay, baby?" he asked. His brow furrowed, studying your reaction, waiting for any sign of discomfort.

You whined again, feeling like you were about to implode. "Do something," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he playfully slapped your ass before leaving a gentle kiss that made your breath hitch. The spreader bar dug into your skin, forcing your body to arch in a way that’s almost painfully perfect. There was something about the compromising position that left you feeling extra sensitive. You’ve never felt so open, so on display, and it’s making you melt.

He walks over to reach back into his box of toys and pulls out a blindfold. You look up at him, eyes shining in a silent beg that you hope makes him go easier on you but he just kisses your cheek and ties the blind fold, stealing your vision. The darkness is immediate, suffocating, and it only heightens every other sensation.

You let out a soft sigh as his warm hands glided down your back, kneading your ass. You tense up a little, bracing yourself for the sharp sting of a slap that never comes. Instead his hands leave your body completely, leaving you to wonder what he would do next. You were dripping and you wanted to rub your legs together. You needed to find some kind of friction to ease the ache that was building inside you but the spreader bar held you firm and it was killing you.

You heard the door open and close and you groaned in frustration. He was gone for a few moments and you're glad he came back when he did because you were about to start crying and maybe scream for Haechan to come finish you off.

You hear the faint clink of glass against wood, and then his hands are on you again, cold and wet. Ice. He must have taken a sip of water, letting it chill his lips before he pressed them to your skin.

You gasp as his cold kisses trail down your back. His lips are teasing, brushing over every inch of your skin except where you need him most. When his mouth reaches the back of your thighs, you whine, desperate and broken. He’s avoiding you, toying with you, and it’s driving you insane. You hated this, you would rather him spank you until your ass was raw and get it over with but Jaemin was hellbent on making you suffer, making you feel the longing he had to endure.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with awe. “Look at that.” His thumb finds your clit, circling it lightly, and you moan, pushing back against him, desperate for more. Anything. But he just chuckles, his hand leaving you again, and you feel the sharp sting of his palm against your ass. He pulls your cheeks apart and a silent “fuck” slips out as he observes you. “I always have so much fun with you, precious,” he says, leaning over you. His body is warm against your back, his hardened length pressing into you as he whispers in your ear. “I want you to myself so bad. I really hate sharing you.” Your breath hitches, and you push back against him, grinding your hips into his. “I’m yours, Nana,” you promise, your voice trembling. He doesn’t stop you, letting you rock against him, begging for relief. But just as you’re about to lose yourself in the friction, he pulls away, leaving you aching and empty. You hear the clink of the glass again, and shiver as you feel him press a cold ice cube against your pussy lips. He holds it in between his lips as it melts and drips down your cunt making you yelp. “Nana, it's cold.”

He slaps the back of your thigh, his mouth too full to speak. The ice eventually melts and you feel his tongue, cold and wet, tracing through your folds, and you whimper. It’s maddening. He’s relentless, licking and teasing, never giving you the pressure you need. You’re drenched, your thighs shaking, and all you can do is take it. You’re his to play with.

You know this isn't even the beginning of what he had in store for you.

“So fucking greedy,” he says, pulling away for just a moment. “That’s why you needed Mark, huh? We weren’t enough for you?”

“It’s not like that,” you choke out, your voice cracking with the tears threatening to spill.

“It’s okay, baby. I like sluts. They always make the prettiest noises when I break them.”

His tongue pushes into you, deep and searching, and you scream, your face buried in the sheets. His hands grip your thighs, holding you against his face, his tongue curling and flicking until you’re seeing stars. He moves to your clit, sucking and teasing, and you’re so close. His fingers dip inside of you and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes at the pleasure. His fingers thrust and curl up inside of you until your body is tensing up. You’re about to cum but then he pulls away and you sob.

“No! Don’t stop, please!” You hated orgasm denial and of course Jaemin found out about this little weakness of yours somehow.

“That’s too bad,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement. “Been spoiling this pussy too much, now it's become greedy.”

He watches as silent cries and hiccups make your body shake. His hands move gently, rubbing soothing circles against your lower back until your breathing begins to steady, letting you throw your tantrum. You feel him loosen the blindfold, and you blink to bring your vision into focus. Tear-filled eyes meet his gaze, and he leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "How’s my princess doing?" he asks, checking in on you again.

"I'm fine," you sniffle, but your voice falters as you add, "Please make me cum."

He chuckles softly, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Not yet, love," he replies.

You hear the sound of something being pulled from his box, and then you feel it—a vibration against your clit. It’s the rose toy, and the moment he turns it on, you lose all coherence. “F—oh my god!”

He holds it against you, the low setting sending a heady rush of pleasure through your body. You’re close again, your muscles tightening, but he pulls away just as you’re about to tip over the edge. “Be a good girl just a little longer, and you can have me,” he reminds you.

Your mind is swirling, pleasure clouding your thoughts. Your brain was practically mush in your head and when he leans back down to lick up your slickness, you completely lose it. Instantly, your legs quake, heat pooling in your lower belly, and you cry out, hips pushing back against his face for more. You were close again but it’s as if Jaemin has a sixth sense and he pulls away again.

"No, no, no, no, no!" you repeat urgently, your voice rising in frustration, but also laced with desperation

"It's ok, we're almost done," Jaemin's soothing voice tries to calm you down. “Take it one more time for me," he coaxes, "and I'll let you cum."

You’re a mess, tears streaking your face, your body trembling with need. He pulls off his shirt, then his sweats and briefs, and you hear the soft sound of him stroking himself. He groans as he watches you drip onto his sheets. The tip of his cock is angry red, and the way he grips himself tells you he’s close to breaking too.

He presses the tip of his cock against you, letting it slip through your folds before he’s pushing the tip in. Your throat had grown horse from how loud you had been moaning and screaming. Your back arches deeper as he fucks you with just the tip. He picks up the vibrator again, pressing it against your clit, and you’re so close. He bites his bottom lip as he watches the way you squirm. He was driving you insane. His free hand held firm on your hip to keep you still when you tried to press back into him. You were about to cum but he pulls out, switching the vibrator off, and you sob, your legs shaking as another orgasm is ripped away from you.

Jaemin’s hands move swiftly, the velcro cuffs releasing with a soft rip as he unbinds your ankles and wrists. The spreader bar is tossed carelessly to the side, landing somewhere on the bed with a muffled thud. Before you can even process the relief of being freed, his strong hands are flipping you onto your back, and there’s no time to catch your breath before he’s positioning himself between your legs.

“Jaem, wait—it’s too much,” you gasp, your voice breaking as he pushes into you, the stretch almost overwhelming after so much teasing. Your body jolts, every nerve alight with sensitivity, and your nails instinctively rake down his back in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. He hisses, but his pace doesn’t falter, his thrusts deep and relentless.

He doesn’t hear you, only responding with a growl as his hands grip your thighs and shove them up against your chest as he continues to fuck you.

The angle is punishing. Your body arches, every muscle tensing as pleasure builds to a breaking point. You’re so close, teetering on the edge, and then—you’re there. Your body convulses as you cry out, your release soaking his thighs and the sheets beneath you. You’re squirting, the sensation utterly overwhelming, and you hear Jaemin’s voice, rough and guttural, as he watches the mess you’ve made.

“Fuckkk,” he moans, as he gazes down at you. “So fucking good. This pussy is so fucking good.” His words are a low growl, and you can see the way his eyes flutter, his own control slipping as he gets lost in the sight of you.

But he doesn’t stop. His hips snap forward again, driving into you intensely. His hands move to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it in a firm but not crushing grip. You gasp, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax, and he leans down, his breath against your ear.

“You gonna answer me when I call you? Gonna text me back?” he demands, his voice low and commanding, his gaze intense as he searches your face for an answer.

“Yes, Nana!” you scream, your voice raw and ragged, your body thrumming with overstimulation. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again.

“Are you going to make me punish you again?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper now, but it’s no less threatening. His hand tightens slightly around your throat, and you whimper, shaking your head frantically.

“No, Nana.”

“That’s my fucking princess, atta girl.” He says, his lips curling into a wicked grin, his eyes alight with pride. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin, and you’re mesmerized by the way he looks in this moment—utterly wild. Your juices drip down his thighs, and your eyes flicker to the claw marks decorating his biceps, a testament to how badly you’ve wanted him, how much you’ve needed him.

He’s insane, and you love it.

His thrusts grow harder, more erratic, and you can feel him teetering on the edge. His hand leaves your throat, moving to grip your hip as he drives into you one last time. He groans, his body tensing as he spills into you, his release hot and filling. You can feel him pulsing inside you, and it’s enough to send a final, weak shiver of pleasure through your body.

When he pulls out, you collapse back onto the bed, utterly spent. Your muscles ache, your throat is sore, and you’re completely wrecked. Jaemin catches his breath above you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and you swear it’s like watching a switch flip. The demon that had possessed him—the one that had pushed you to the brink over and over—it’s gone, replaced by the Jaemin you know. His eyes soften, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle now, almost tender.

“Was that too much?”

“Never.”

After cleaning you up, changing the sheets, and tending to your bruises you decide to spend the night. You had no energy to get up and go home, you weren't sure you could even walk to do so. That morning you wake up in Jaemin's arms, snuggled up to his chest with your legs intertwined. You catch a glimpse of his sleeping face and can't help but smile.

You kiss his nose and untangle yourself from the sheets, careful not to disturb him. He's a deep sleeper, and all he does is roll over and go back to sleep. You quietly get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen to get some water.

You pour yourself a cup of water, savoring the silence of the morning. The gentle chirping of birds fills the air as you lean against the counter, relaxing with a content sigh and letting your mind wander to thoughts of nothing.

Your peaceful moment is abruptly interrupted by the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by footsteps approaching. You assume it's Jaemin coming to join you, but you freeze when Haechan rounds the corner.

In that instant, you remember the original reason you had come over—to rile him up. And boy, does he look pissed. He watches you with a fierce glare as you gulp down your cup of water, standing in front of the fridge while he remains across the kitchen, separated from you by the island.

"When you're ready to come home, I'll be right here," Haechan says.

“You're talking about what?" You inquire annoyed.

How our little Princess runs to everyone but me when she's needy." He rebuttals.

"You brought this on yourself," you shoot back. "You decided to send those photos to get a rise out of me, so forgive me if I felt inspired to do the same."

“Jaemin did a number on you, didn't he?" he says, his eyes drifting to your skin, where the bruises from Jaemin are visible.

Your face flushes as you remember the bruises that litter your skin and how loud you were with Jaemin. “Maybe he did. But that’s none of your business, Haechan.”

“Except it is. it's a little hard to ignore when you're parading around with marks from someone else."

"Maybe they could have been from you if you weren't so insufferable," you snap.

"I've wanted it to be me, but you're too busy with your new plaything," Haechan says, his jaw set in irritation.

"I wish you would stop worrying about Mark." You whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down from waking the whole house. “What's your issue with him anyway?”

"Besides him fucking me over for my last project… let me think. Maybe it's the fact that you're throwing us to the side for him."

You feel a twinge of guilt at his words, but you try to deflect it. "You're ridiculous when you're jealous, you know that right?"

"Says the girl who just screwed my roommate to get back at me," Haechan says, his voice cold. He rounds the corner of the island and closes in on you.

"Only because you never learned how to wait your turn."

"Don't like sharing," Haechan says, his eyes locked on yours.

"Not my problem, maybe one of those girls can keep you company."

He pins you against the counter, his eyes boring down on you. "Stop acting like you don't want me, if you didn't want me, you wouldn't be here right now."

You glare back at him, trying to maintain your cool. "Well, you're in my way," you say, gesturing to your current position pinned against the counter.

"Admit you want me," Haechan challenges. "Then you can go."

You refuse to answer, keeping your mouth shut as he looms over you. You can practically feel his pent-up desire and frustration as he eye-fucks you a breath away.

His hands find their way to your waist, and with a subtle firmness, he pulls you away from the counter, pinning you to the cool surface of the island in the middle of the kitchen. You find yourself face down on the marble as Haechan stands behind you. His hips pressed into your ass as he reached around to the front of your panties. The soft pads of his fingers stroke you through your panties, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Soaked just like I thought,” he murmured, his voice teasing. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Fuck you, Donghyuck,” you spit.

He chuckled, his breath huffing against your neck. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do.” His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, and you clenched your jaw, determined to stay quiet. But your body betrayed you, your legs parting almost instinctively.

“That’s right, princess. Keep that damn mouth closed and let your body talk,” he said. His fingers teased your clit, and you jolted when he pinched it sharply.

“You’re an asshole,” you hissed, glaring at him over your shoulder.

His innocent expression didn’t fool you for a second. “Me? Never.” His fingers dipped deeper, stretching you open, and you couldn’t help but grind against his palm. His other hand slid up your shirt, his rough palm massaging your breast. You could feel his hardness pressing into you, and he rocked his hips forward, the friction maddening.

The sound of a door creaking open down the hall made you freeze. Your heart skipped a beat, your body heating up with embarrassment. It wasn’t like the guys hadn’t seen you in compromising positions before, but this—bent over the kitchen island at nine in the morning, legs spread open—felt different.

Jaemin emerged from the hall and paused in the doorway, his sleepy eyes taking in the scene for a moment before he shrugged. He yawned, reaching into the cupboard for a bowl, completely unfazed. He leaned against the counter opposite you, crunching on his cereal as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Haechan didn’t stop, and didn't even acknowledge Jaemin’s presence. His fingers continued to thrust into you, his pace relentless. He didn’t care about anything other than the way you were clenching down around his fingers as he scissored you open.

Haechan slipped a third finger into you, and your attention snapped back to him. “Focus on me, baby. Why can’t you ever focus on me?” he tutted, his fingers curling inside you. You whined, your body trembling as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.

Jaemin’s eyes were on you, watching intently as Haechan worked you closer and closer to the edge. The combination of Haechan’s fingers, his palm teasing your breast, and Jaemin’s gaze was overwhelming.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warned, your voice breathy and desperate.

Haechan smirked, his fingers slowing just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. “I don’t think so, princess. You don’t deserve it.”

“Jaemin,” Maybe he’d take pity on you and finish you off if Haechan wouldn’t. You plead and turn your head to look at him.

“Calling for another man when I’m right here? You just don’t learn,” Haechan sneered, his hand leaving your breast to deliver a stinging slap to your thigh.

“Sorry, princess, I can’t save you,” Jaemin said with a teasing smile. He set his bowl in the sink, pausing to press a kiss to your temple before heading back to his room, leaving you at Haechan’s mercy.

Your thighs trembled, your body begging for release. “Please, Haechan. I’m sorry. Please don’t stop.”

You turned your body enough to pull him into a desperate kiss. You missed his lips, the way they felt against yours. It was him—only him—you wanted. He faltered for a moment, his breath stuttering before he regained his composure and pulled away. He had to stand on business.

“Uh-uh, baby. You were bad,” he said, his fingers slowing to an agonizing pace. You squirmed in his grasp, your orgasm slipping further away.

“No, no, please, no!” you begged, rocking against his hand pathetically. But he didn’t relent. His fingers stopped entirely, and he pulled away, leaving you empty and frustrated.

“Better go find Mark to finish you off,” he said with a bite, his tone sharp and cutting. He turned on his heel and left the kitchen, leaving you alone and seething.

You slumped against the island, your body still throbbing with need. That bastard. You wanted to scream, to chase after him and demand he finish what he started. But instead, you stayed put, your mind racing as you tried to figure out your next move.

Now more than ever you wanted to rip his head off.

—

You had been grumpy all week, and your friends were starting to notice.

Sitting around the fire pit, the crackling flames burn hot against the chilly winter night. The air was biting cold, each breath forming a small cloud of mist that vanished into the darkness. Snowflakes continued to fall gently, blanketing everything in a thick layer of white, while your friends settled in around the fire. Absent-mindedly, you burned your marshmallow to a crisp, imagining it was Haechan melting over the flames.

“You guys see that evil look in her eyes?” Jisung asked the group, bundling himself tighter in his parka and scooting a little closer to Yuna for safety.

“And no one believes me when I tell you she’s been signing me up for spam emails!” Yangyang chimed in, his hands tucked deep in his pockets, shaking his head dramatically.

“Because why would she do that?” Yuna defended you, shooting both of them a disapproving look.

You smirked at her loyalty. To be honest, you had signed him up for all those spam emails, but only after he pushed you into a lake two summers ago, right after you’d spent hours on your hair. Your favorite form of revenge came in the shape of minor inconveniences.

“She’s got you all brainwashed. I’m going to expose her. Just you wait!” Yangyang declared under his breath, plotting your demise.

You roasted another marshmallow, this one perfectly toasted, and handed it to Yuna. She smiled and took a bite, closing her eyes in bliss.

A few days had passed since Haechan left you hanging in the kitchen, and your frustration was starting to build up. Mark was suddenly too busy to reply, Renjun was buried under a mountain of books, Jaemin was working overtime, and Jeno… well, Jeno was back at the gym. He had invited you numerous times, but you had been hoping for a different kind of workout.

“There’s nothing wrong, guys. I’m just cold and picturing Chenle as a marshmallow for dragging us out here,” you lied smoothly.

Chenle rolled his eyes dramatically. “It’s called bonding, you ungratefuls. We haven’t had a chance to hang out in forever!”

“Yeah, maybe because it’s been negative two degrees outside,” Mia chimed in.

“I’m having a great time, Lele.” Jisung declared, flashing a warm smile despite the chill.

“Stop flirting,” Yangyang teased as he scooped up a handful of snow and crafted a perfect snowball. He hurled it over the fire pit, and it landed squarely in Jisung’s chest.

Jisung’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Hey! I thought you were on my side!” he shot back, throwing his own snowball in retaliation.

Laughter filled the air as Jisung and Yangyang dashed through the snow-covered field in the woods behind the campus, their shouts echoing through the trees. A stray snowball from Yangyang hit you in the back of the head, and in an instant, you shot up, declaring war.

You charged at Yangyang, who was doubled over with laughter. The others joined in, hurling snowballs at each other, blissfully caught up in the chaos. You took the opportunity to sneak up on Yangyang, aiming to smother him in the snow when no one was looking.

“I told you she was crazy! Look!” he cried, but no one seemed to pay him any mind as they all ran, slipping and tumbling in the soft snow. The laughter, the playful shouts, and the thrill you got from strangling Yangyang made you forget everything else that had been troubling you. Chenle was right, hanging out with everyone was worth it. By the end of the night, you found yourself laughing easily and feeling relaxed.

—-

Renjun had a secret.

He was at your apartment today, just like he was every Tuesday, surrounded by a mess of textbooks and scattered notes. The coffee table was a chaotic mess of highlighters and crumpled paper, a testament to your hard work during the study session. Soft music played in the background and you hummed along quietly.

His secret?

While his roommates thought you were growing distant, Renjun didn’t feel any distance at all. The truth was, he had been tutoring you for months, regularly texting you and making sure to see you once a week since winter break. So when the guys complained about your lack of attention, he just played along. Unlike them, he wasn’t worried about Mark because he didn’t have to be. Mark wasn’t taking you from him, so he couldn’t care less about the “competition.” They had no idea about the tutoring sessions, and he was perfectly fine keeping it that way. He enjoyed having you all to himself, and he wasn’t about to let anyone ruin that so he kept his mouth shut.

Most of the time, you two really did focus on studying and making progress, but there were occasions when things got heated. By the look in your eyes, Renjun could tell that this would be one of those times.

“Why do you look like you’re about to pounce on me when you still haven’t tackled number 7?” he teased, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. He leaned back against the couch, closing his textbook.

“Because I can’t focus. I’m just… horny,” you groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. “Everyone’s been too busy to hook up, and this 8=D is starting to look way too much like a penis!”

Renjun picked up your paper and glanced at it, snorting with laughter. “Well, you literally just made that up, so let’s start there,” he chuckled, handing it back to you as you sat cross-legged on the carpet, trying to find some semblance of concentration.

“It was on the paper, I swear it was!” you protested, dramatically laying your head against the coffee table hoping the cold wood would cool you down.

“Need me to take care of you?” he asked sweetly.

“No, I can do this. I’m just being pathetic,” you insisted, sitting up straight and attempting to put on your best brave face, but it was getting harder by the second.

“Really? Are you sure? I’ll make it quick,” he replied, a hint of desperation in his eyes. Maybe he needed it just as much as you did.

You looked at him, and your resolve just crumbled. You were starting to feel a bit like a whore, but honestly, it was hard not to be when everyone was so irresistible. Each one of them had their own charm and quirks that you couldn’t help but love. They each drew you in making it impossible for you to replace any of them. You wished they would understand that and stop worrying about Mark.

Renjun was the one who kept the balance among the chaos, never demanding too much but always there when you needed him. That’s what you liked most about him: his easygoing attitude. He could adapt to every situation, cracking jokes at the right moments while always knowing when to be serious. He was sweet but firm, guiding you without pushing. With his playful charm and sass, he kept you on your toes, making every moment fun. Renjun was your anchor, the constant in your life that you could rely on. You could talk to him about anything, and he always knew how to make you feel better. He was your always.

You finally let out a deep sigh, and the tension in your shoulders eased just a little. “Okay, I could use a little help relaxing,” you said as the corners of your mouth twitched into a small smile.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, making you think he’s going to lay you down on the mattress but he guides you to the connected bathroom instead. He turns on the shower, checking the temperature and making sure it’s warm enough before both of you start to peel away your clothes. Once under the soothing cascade of water, you let out a sigh of relief.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close for a moment, letting you rest and relax against him. Then, he gently pulls away and kisses you, his lips soft against yours. He presses you against the cold tile of the shower, and you shiver, but the warmth of the water quickly envelops you, warming your skin as the kiss deepens.

“Am I selfish for wanting to keep you all to myself?” he whispers, laying kisses under your ear.

“I wouldn't mind” you whisper back, meeting his gaze before bringing his lips back to you.

The water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet before swirling down the drain. Renjun’s lips trailed along your jawline, his breath warm as the steam rises around you. His thigh pressed firmly between your legs, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you as you instinctively rolled your hips against him. You couldn’t help but moan softly into his mouth.

“God, Renjun,” you gasped, your hands sliding up his slick chest to rest on his shoulders. His skin was so smooth under your fingertips and you dug your nails in lightly as he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate, tasting every inch of your mouth as if he wanted to memorize it.

His hands slid down your sides to grip your hips. He lifted you slightly, shifting his thigh higher, and you gasped at the sudden pressure against your core. Your head fell back against the wall, your breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as he nipped at your neck, leaving little marks that made you squirm.

You tilted your hips forward, seeking more friction, more contact, more. Renjun chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and he reached down to grip the back of your thigh, lifting it to hook around his waist. The shift in position made you groan, the angle perfect as he pressed himself harder against you.

“Is this what you needed?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His free hand moved between you, fingers teasing your clit, and you nodded frantically, unable to form words. All you could feel was him—his touch, his warmth, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours.

Renjun’s fingers dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds, and you whimpered, arching into his touch. “So wet already,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You really were desperate, weren’t you?”

You didn’t even try to deny it, too far gone to care about anything except the way his fingers circled your clit, sending jolts of pleasure racing through you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you rocked against his hand, chasing the sensation, and he let out a soft groan, his own need evident in the way his hips pressed insistently against your leg.

“Fuck, Renjun,” you moaned, your voice breaking as his fingers slipped inside you, curling just right to make your vision blur. “Don’t stop… please…” If he stopped you would just die. You couldn’t take any more teasing.

“I won’t,” he promised, his lips capturing yours again in a searing kiss as his fingers worked you expertly, plunging in and out while his thumb rubbed tight, insistent circles against your clit. The combination was overwhelming, and you clung to him, your legs trembling as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you.

“Look at me,” he commanded, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark with lust, but there was something softer there too, something tender that made your heart stutter. You obeyed, locking eyes with him as he increased the pace of his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” he urged, his voice rough with need. “Come on baby. Cum for me.”

The command broke something inside you, and you came with a cry, your body shuddering in pleasure. Renjun held you through it, his arms strong and steady as you rode out the aftershocks, your breathing ragged and uneven.

When you finally opened your eyes, he was watching you with a smug grin, his hair plastered to his forehead and his lips swollen from kissing. “Feel better now?” he asked, his tone light but his expression still hungry.

“Much,” you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck. “But we're not done.”

He laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. “Oh, I know.” With that, he turned you around, pressing your front against the tiled wall. Anticipation coursing through you as he stepped closer, his chest flush against your back.

“Ready for another?” he murmured, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your hips. Your breath hitched as he nipped at your shoulder.

“Always,” you breathed, reaching back to thread your fingers through his hair.

He chuckled before kicking your legs open further and guiding himself to your entrance, the tip teasing at your slick folds. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded.

You bit your lip, your whole body quivering with need. “You,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. “Just you.”

“Good girl,” he praised, and then he was pushing into you, filling you completely in one hard stroke. You cried out, the stretch and fullness stealing your breath as he began to move, his pace steady and relentless.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust into you.

“Harder,” you begged, nails digging into the tiles as he obliged, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force. The pleasure built rapidly, coiling tight in your belly, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

“Cum with me,” he growled, his voice strained as he reached around to rub your clit, the added stimulation pushing you over the edge. You shatter, crying out his name as he follows after you, his release spilling deep inside you.

For a moment, you both stayed like that, panting and tangled together, the water washing away the evidence of your passion. Finally, Renjun shifted, pulling you back against his chest as he nuzzled into your neck.

“Let me stay tonight,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleepiness and contentment. “No more studying, no more stress. Just us.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his temple and nodded, holding him tight. “Anything for you, always.”

When you step out he dries you off and helps you slip on a robe and some slippers. He’s got a towel draped around his hips, and another sits on his head as he towel-dries his damp hair. You glance at him, feeling a lazy wave wash over you; the thought of getting dressed seems pointless when you know your hands might wander again throughout the night.

—

Ringing

Ringing

Ringing

This mailbox is currently full please try—

Mark’s phone rings and rings, but he doesn’t pick up. After a few moments, you hang up with a frustrated groan. You’ve been trying to reach him all day, and it was unusual for him not to respond at all. You had spoken to him a little over the past week but it was always a quick text here or there. He’s always made time for you, so the silence feels deafening. You try to shrug it off, but something gnaws in the back of your mind.

You make your way to Jisung's door and knock. Chenle answers it, looking like he’s about to head out.

“Where’s Jisung?” you ask.

“In his room, playing video games. What’s up?” Chenle says, adjusting his shades.

“Mark’s acting weird, he hasn’t replied to my messages,” you explain.

“Ha ha! Someone's getting a taste of their own medicine!” Chenle teases, grinning. He and the others know the details of your drama with Mark and the guys, but you still haven't told Jisung everything. You didn't know how to bring up your arrangement with Mark without making it awkward. He knows the two of you talk, but you’ve kept the specifics to yourself.

“Very funny,” you roll your eyes. “Where are you going, anyway?”

“Jisung’s being loud with the game, and I need silence. I’m going to go bother Yangyang and Kun.”

“Just don't go over there stressing Kun. He’s my backup husband and I don't need you raising his blood pressure.”

“Lol whatever,” Chenle laughs, closing the door behind him.

When you enter Jisungs room, you see Jisung seated at his desk, yelling into his mic while playing an online game. Big chunky headphones sit atop his head, and the RGB lights of his keyboard and mouse illuminate his dark room.

You tap his shoulder, causing him to jump and yell into the mic. You hear muffled voices coming from his headset. From Jisung's "Sorry, guys," you can assume his teammates are scolding him for almost bursting their eardrums.

“Hold on, guys, I’ve gotta go AFK real quick,” he says, muting his mic and taking off one headphone.

“You scared me! Did Lele let you in?” he asks, confused.

“Yeah, sorry,” you instantly regret barging in to ask him a dumb question now that you see he’s busy. “I was just wondering if you’ve seen Mark lately? He hasn’t been picking up.” Your cheeks heat up when you realize how needy and stupid you sound. Maybe you can’t fault Haechan for the way he acted because here you are sounding the same way.

“Mark? Yeah, one sec,” he replies, pulling up Discord on his second screen. “Looks like he’s playing League with Haechan. They’ve been grinding for days. I swear, he’s addicted.”

“Mark games?” you ask, surprised. He’d never mentioned it before.

“Yeah, he joined our Discord server like a week ago. Haechan got him hooked on Overwatch and League now.”

Your mouth drops open as everything starts to click into place in your mind. That bastard.

You reach for Jisung's mouse and start scrolling through his chat. Sure enough, there are messages back and forth between Mark, Haechan, Jisung, Jeno, and Jaemin. It makes sense that they’d be gaming together. Before Jisung can stop you, you begin typing in the chat.

thefamousandy [9:33] Haechan you’re dead

—

Lately it's like Mark is never alone, Haechan is always right there with him. It feels like everywhere you turn, there’s Haechan.You spot them on campus, and it’s hard to miss Haechan casually hanging off Mark’s shoulder, that signature cocky smirk plastered on his face as he catches your eye for a split second. If you text Mark to hang out, his response is always “Can’t, out with Haechan already.”

Finally, you’re hanging out alone with Mark at his place, but instead of the quiet, intimate time you were hoping for, you're subjected to a marathon of Mark's League of Legends ramblings. Every sentence starts with the name "Haechan."

Haechan showed me how to…

Me and Haechan played until…

Haechan is really good at…

Haechan

Haechan

Haechan

You were starting to feel like you're stuck in some kind of bizarre, Haechan-centric vortex. You think you might just kill Haechan.

Mark mentions the others, too, but it's like they're mere background noise. All you can hear is Haechan's name echoing in your mind.

"…and then Haechan told me about this one champion, Ezreal, and how you can use his Mystic Shot to last-hit minions from a safe distance. I'm glad Jisung introduced us I’ve been wanting to get into league for forever” he says and you zone back in

"Wait, wait, Jisung introduced you to Haechan?" you ask.

“Yeah, he said they needed another person on their team,” Mark replies.

Right after Haechan, you think you might just kill Jisung too.

“You really like this game, huh? I want to see if you’re any good,” you tease, already cooking up a plan in your head to shut him up.

Mark blushes a little. “Nah, I’m not that good, really. Haechan carries the team.”

You feel a twitch in your jaw at the sound of that name.

“Well, I want to watch you play. it sounds fun! Maybe I can get good and join too,” you say, determined to keep him focused on you.

Mark beams at you, and you trail behind him to his room as he powers up his computer. Without hesitation, you settle into his lap, and he reaches around you to log in. You can’t help but think he looks adorable in his little gamer headphones.

As he dives into the game, he starts explaining the mechanics and the characters but it all sounds like blah blah blah proper name place name backstory stuff. Your eyes drift away from the screen and back to Mark's face, where you get lost in the sparkle in his eyes.

“Are you even listening?” Mark chuckles, his smile widening as he glances at you. You realize you’ve been staring at him for the past three minutes.

“Sorry, it’s just… you’re such a nerd, and it’s kinda hot,” you admit.

His cheeks flush a bright red, and he shakes his head, turning back to the screen to hide his embarrassment. You can’t help but smile as you watch him grow shy under your gaze. He playfully scolds you, “Pay attention!”

A notification pops up on his screen. thyluvhae is online.

You watch as Mark types out a response to Haechan’s request to play Overwatch. “Wanna watch me play a quick match?” he asks.

“Of course!” you smile.

Mark turns on his mic and greets the guys, while you settle back into his lap, content to watch for a little while. He finishes a round, glancing over to check if it’s okay to boot up another.

About halfway through his second round, you shift in his lap and push yourself off, kneeling between his legs. Mark’s eyes flicked down to you, wide with surprise, but before he could say anything, someone on his team started shouting instructions, pulling his attention back to the game.

His hands stayed glued to the mouse and keyboard, but you could see the tension in his body as you began to glide your hands up and down his thighs. Your touch was light, almost teasing, but it was enough to make his breath hitch. He stuttered a little on his sentences when he responded to something that was said, his voice trembling slightly.

You decided to escalate, pulling him from his sweats. His sharp intake of breath was barely audible, but you heard it. He covered it with a cough, his cheeks flushing as he tried to maintain his composure. You spit on his tip, the wetness glistening in the dim light, and began to stroke him with slow, deliberate movements. You take him into your mouth and swirl your tongue deviously around his tip before you trail teasing kisses down the side of his cock,

Mark’s hand shot up to mute his mic, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He looked torn between wanting to tangle his hands in your hair and needing to keep playing the game. The team was too close to victory, and they had been trying all day to secure a win. His moans were quiet and breathy, still afraid someone might hear him.

You paused for a moment, looking up at him deviously. “Let me hear you, baby. Don’t be shy,” you whispered. With that you took him back into your mouth and down your throat.

Mark’s moans picked up in volume, his legs spreading wider as he tried to keep himself from thrusting into your mouth. The sound of his keyboard clacking and his mouse clicking filled the room, but you could tell he was struggling to focus. It wasn’t long before his fingers suddenly stopped moving, and he froze. A long, shaky inhale escaped his lips, and his hips twitched upward involuntarily.

You knew you were doing a good job when he let out a low groan, and his fingers flexed on the keyboard. He jolted as someone on his team snapped him out of his trance, bringing him back to the game. Quickly, he unmuted himself. “I’m here, I’m here. I—my eyes are just tired. I’m sorry,” he lied, his voice strained as he tried to cover up his gasps.

You continued to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, and Mark leaned forward, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and agony. “Fuck,” he groaned into the mic, his voice trembling. “F-fuck, I almost died,” he said quickly, trying to cover up his moans.

The match dragged on, and you could feel Mark’s frustration building. His body taut with tension as you continued to work him. Finally, the match ended, and Mark let out a sigh of relief. He leaned back in his chair, his chest rising and falling as he watched you.

Without a word, he reached down and gathered your hair into a ponytail, using it as a makeshift handle to control you. “That’s right, open that throat up,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. He pushed your head down, forcing you to take him into the back of your throat. The sensation was overwhelming, and you could feel him throbbing against your tongue.

Mark’s head leaned back against the headrest of his gaming chair, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips. He held you there for a moment, savoring the feeling before pulling you off of him. He shivers with a groan. “Just like that.”

You stare up at him with doe eyes as your lips shine with a mixture of his precum and your saliva. You pump him faster wanting nothing more than to have him paint your face.

Mark bites his lip before pushing you back down on him. You bob your head up and down sloppily just like he liked it until he was releasing down your throat. “Shit,” he groaned, his voice trembling as he moaned your name. You pull away continuing to pump him and the last of his release lands on your face.

He released your hair, and you pulled away, making a show of licking your lips and swallowing. Mark’s eyes were dark with desire, and he reached down to pull you into a kiss. You moaned at the prospect of him tasting himself on your lips, but before the kiss could deepen, he turned off the game and powered down his computer. With a swift motion, he picked you up and threw you into his sheets, his body covering yours, prepared to return the favor.

When you get home, you decide to FaceTime Jisung. He picks up and props his phone up, grabbing a bowl of food. Dressed comfortably in a hoodie with the hood pulled over his head, he sits at his desk and slurps his dinner.

“What’s up?” he mumbles around a mouthful.

“You were the one who introduced Mark to Haechan!?” you exclaim.

“Yeah, he asked me to! We needed another teammate, so I told them about Mark. How was I supposed to know you were… together?”

“Together? Together in what way?” You roll over onto your stomach in bed, your expression turning serious. Did he mean together together or together together.

“He forgot to mute his mic, and I heard a little too much,” Jisung admits, his face turning red as he looks away from the camera.

You cringe at the thought of what Jisung could have heard. “Are you mad?” you ask, genuinely concerned, your voice softening as you try to gauge his reaction.

“Ew, no! You’re like my sister,” he replies, dismissively.

"I meant about me fucking your cousin, asshat. I said mad, not jealous, genius," you retorted, raising an eyebrow at the screen.

“Why would I be?” he says, taking another bite of his food.

“I don’t know, some people have those boundaries about their family. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t cross any lines,” you explain.

“It’s a little weird, yeah, but that’s probably because I had to listen to him moan in my ear,” Jisung says, shivering slightly at the memory.

“Sorry!” you reply, trying to stifle a laugh. If Jisung had heard that meant Haechan probably had too and you were a little happy to exact a little revenge on him even if you couldn’t see his reaction.

—

As you walk into Mark's house, you're greeted by the sight of Haechan already lounging on the couch, looking like he's made himself right at home. Your face falls, and you shoot Mark a disgruntled glare.

"Seriously?!" you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down.

Mark looks apologetic, whispering back, "I'm sorry! He just showed up. I didn't want to be rude."

Haechan, sensing the tension, looks up from his phone with a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Hey there! Ready for some fun?"

You force a smile, trying to play it cool, and sit down next to him on the couch. "Can't wait."

Haechan leans back, still grinning, clearly enjoying the fact that he's inserted himself into your plans.

Mark tries to diffuse the situation, saying, "Yeah, we were just about to load up some Mario Kart, actually." He starts rummaging for extra controllers near the TV and turns it on.

“I'm down” You say. It did sound fun but you weren't over here for Mario you were here for Mark and you were trying to play with his other joystick. Mark plops down on the other side of Haechan and passes over the remotes. As the game starts, you quickly take the lead, using your knowledge of the shortcuts and boosts to secure first place. Mark is second, and Haechan is fourth.

As you speed ahead, Haechan tries to take you down with a banana peel, but you dodge it effortlessly. "Too slow," you tease.

The race is heating up, and the three of you are getting increasingly competitive. Mark’s laughter drowns out the sound of the game, and for a moment, you almost forget about Haechan's ever-looming presence. But as the race comes down to the wire, Haechan and Mark make a alliance against you.

“Just let her have it, Mark. I’ll take care of her next round!” Haechan goads.

“Hey! No teaming up!” you yell, half-amused.

Mark just shrugs, a grin plastered to his face as you get blasted with a blue shell that causes you to cross the finish line in second, Haechan gleefully taking first place.

“Cheater” you mumble under your breath.

As the night winds down, Mark puts on a movie and you go grab some blankets while Haechan makes popcorn.

“Wanna share a blanket” You say, trying to snuggle up close to Mark on the couch.

But before Mark can respond, Haechan is back with popcorn and plops down right between you again, acting like a natural cockblock. “Share some with me too.” He hands off the bowl to Mark and throws the cover over all three of you

For whatever reason, Haechan picked a three-hour-long movie, and you're bored out of your mind. You grab your phone and excuse yourself to the bathroom.

You [9:45] Come get your roommate hes being a nuisance

You text out an sos to Renjun.

RJ [10:20] Lol which one

You [10:21] The annoying one

RJ [10:23] Jaemin?

You [10:23] annoyingerrrrr

RJ [10:24] Haechan lmaooo What did he do

You [10:25] Cockblockingggggg hes everywhere he wont leave me alone

RJ [10:28] Just fuck him already

Before you can even think of a reply, the bathroom door creaks open, and you jump in surprise. Haechan pokes his head in.

"What the…?" you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down. “What are you doing?”

Haechan shuts the door behind him and locks it, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You were taking too long to come back," he whispers.

"What about Mark?" you ask, trying to keep your cool.

“He fell asleep.”

You can't help but raise an eyebrow. "So?"

Haechan chuckles and takes a step closer, his face inches from yours. "So I'm bored and I knew you'd be in here, trying to escape."

You poke a finger into his chest, trying to assert your dominance. "You know what you're doing," you hissed.

Haechan's smirk only grows wider. "Oh? And what's that, princess?"

"You’re cockblocking. Stop getting in my way."

“Or what?” he teases.

Anger boils up in your chest, and you grab Haechan by the front of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're face-to-face, your grip unrelenting. The harsh words you intended to unleash fade away, caught in your throat. Instead, you slam your lips against his, biting down hard on his bottom lip. Haechan hisses in pain, but rather than pulling away, he leans into the kiss. He's been wanting this for too long, and now that it's finally happening, he's not about to let go.

He tries to push you up against the bathroom counter but with a swift move, you flip your positions around, pinning Haechan up against the counter instead.

Your eyes blaze with fury as you pull away from the kiss. "You think you're clever, stealing Mark away from me like that?" you hiss.

"Someones jealous," he says. His lip is slightly bleeding from the harsh bite, but he's not bothered, instead, he licks at it cockily.

Your anger only grows, and you reach forward, hands tangling in the back of his head, tugging hard enough to make Haechan whine. "You want me?" you say, your breath hot against his lips, your knee pressing up between his legs, making him shudder.

You've taken a few pages from Jaemin's playbook, it seems, learning how to put someone in their place, how to make them feel submission and powerlessness. And from the look on Haechan's face, it's working. He doesn't look so cocky anymore, instead, he looks…vulnerable. Helpless.

Haechan's head nods as best as he can in your grip, the defiance in his earlier demeanor fading.

"When have you ever been afraid to run that mouth?" you say. “Speak up.”

The way he’s pressed up against your knee, you can see a change in his gaze. He’s Hard against your thigh and his body is pressed impossibly close to yours, like you were his only lifeline.

"I want you. I need you so bad," he admits, his voice small.

You can't help but pat his cheek, a smirk forming on your lips. "Good boy."

He whines, reaching out to pull you close, eager to reconnect your lips, but you simply pull away entirely, enjoying the way he falls, eyes swirling with confusion and longing.

"You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you? Hands behind your back," you instruct. "You have to earn it if you want to touch me."

He complies without hesitation, his eyes innocent and docile, and something wicked stirs within you; you want to ruin him, to break him. You think you will.

Pressing yourself back against him, you slot your leg between his thighs again, "Go ahead, grind against me. Show me how pathetic you are, and maybe I’ll take pity on you."

“Please,” he breathes out, fingers gripping tightly against the cool marble counter of Mark's bathroom. "I’m sorry, I’ll be good."

“Don't make me tell you again.”

Haechan swallows hard, his breath hitching at your authority. You can see the conflict in his eyes—part of him wants to push back and be a brat, but the other part, the one craving you, is ready to surrender completely.

Haechan whines softly as he grinds against your thigh, his gaze locked onto yours. Your fingers grip the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He groans into your mouth, frustration evident as he aches to reach out and grab you, to pull you closer, but he holds himself back, wanting to please you, to be good for you.

As your hands sneak under his shirt, you feel the warmth of his skin. You rake your nails down his stomach, teasingly, before pinching his nipples. The sound that escapes him is a soft moan, and you swallow his noises pressing your lips together until they are sure to bruise.

Your hands continue their exploration, sliding down to the waistband of his sweats. You tug at the fabric, freeing him from its confines, your grip finding the base of him. You hold him firmly, feeling the way he twitches under your touch, and you look at him with a smile.

“Spit on it,” you instruct him sweetly.

Haechan gazes at you with a hazy expression and rosy cheeks as he collects his saliva in his mouth. The spit drips down onto the head of his cock, and he sighs at the way it trickles down. His breath hitches as you tighten your grip just slightly.

“You listen so well, why can't you be like this all the time?” you say in a whisper.

You stroke him slowly, ensuring to twist your wrist around the head as you move up. Your movements are deliberate, slow, and drawn out to drive him crazy.

His hips buck up into your grasp.. You make a ring around the head of his cock with your fist and watch as he fucks into it. His breath is choppy, and his noises are high-pitched as he throws his head back.

“You make me feel so fucking good, I can't take this,” he cries. “I need you.”

“Shut up before you wake up Mark,” you say cruelly. Your hand stops at the base of his cock and squeezes punishingly causing him to curse and shudder.

Your hand starts moving again, and you attach your lips to his neck, sucking a pretty bruise into the skin there. You nip at the skin meanly before pulling away. You release him and the noise he makes is devastating. You laugh in his face and mock him.

“Grip it, you think I'm going to do all the work for you?”

Both hands lift off the counter, but you stop him. “Keep one hand on the counter and don't move it.”

He follows your instructions, gripping himself firmly. He doesn't move, just looks at you waiting for your next command.

“Look at you catching on fast,” you commend him. “Show me how you like it.”

A broken whine leaves his lips as he starts fisting his cock in front of you. His cheeks are red, and he's clearly embarrassed, but he doesn't stop.

His pace is fast and rough, and he bites his lip to silence his moans. “Slow down,” you instruct.

He shakes his head stubbornly. “Can’t, so close.” He says, words coming out broken.

“You want to finish like that? Be my guest, but you’re not fucking me.”

He whines, but finally stops, his chest heaving as he fights back his orgasm.

“You’re hard headed, so don’t think you’ll be rewarded.” You lean over the counter, pulling your bottoms down but leaving your underwear on. “Fuck my thighs, that's all you get.”

Haechan is behind you in seconds, pushing into the tight space between your thighs. He leans over you, his hips slapping noisily against your ass as he chases his high. His fingers dip into your underwear, playing with your slickness before plunging deep inside you. His fingers match the rhythm of his thrusts, and he imagines it’s his cock filling you.

“Wanna fuck this pussy so bad. You’re so fucking selfish.” He moans in your ear, slowly transforming back into the brat you know and love.

“You’re always doing me dirty, but I still worship this pussy.” His free hand grips your hip, his fingernails biting into your skin. “I’d fill you up, stretch you out like you need, but you won’t let me.”

You moan at his words, grinding back against him as his fingers plunge deeper. “I should fucking break you. I’m too nice to you.”

You’re not sure when the tables turned, but you’re soaking his fingers. He curls his digits deep inside you, and suddenly you’re cumming. He pulls his fingers out and slides your panties to the side, lining up at your entrance. He splits you open and moans at how wet you feel. Wet squelching fills the bathroom as he begins to fuck you. You want to protest but he feels so good you can’t. You hadn’t felt him in so long you would be insane to stop him now.

He had needed this for so long but he's frustrated beyond belief because he's already so close. This was not how he’d envisioned having you after so long. But it was alright, there would always be a next time, and next time, you would be his good girl.

He grips your hair roughly pulling you back to meet his lips and after a few more deep thrusts he's cumming inside you, groaning in frustration. He pulls out, and your panties slip back into place, trapping his cum inside of you. You both clean up and fix your appearances. Honestly, you had forgotten whose house you were at, and you cringe at the thought of how loud you must have been.

You both try to make your way back to the living room as inconspicuous as possible. When you enter the room, Mark is sprawled out on the couch, deep in sleep. You sigh in relief; he’s always been a heavy sleeper, and you thank the lord for that.

“Wanna go fuck on his bed?” Haechan jokes.

You punch him in the shoulder. “Shut up”

—

Jeno had finally convinced you to come with him to the gym. The cold air nipped at your skin as you approached the entrance, and it was late, making you question how he managed to get you here. Maybe it was the fact that you had been missing him more than you cared to admit.

“One more rep, you got this!” he motivates from behind you, his chest pressed warmly against your back, closer than what was probably necessary. The 10-pound dumbbells in your hands were starting to feel like they weighed a ton, and you could feel the burn in your muscles as you struggled through the sets of butterflies. “Come on, don’t stop. Almost there!”

His hands ghost beneath your arms, providing just the right amount of support to help you finish your last rep. You exhale a heavy sigh when you’re finally done, sweat slick against your forehead and trickling down the sides of your face.

“Good girl,” he coos, a playful glint in his eye as he hands you your water bottle.

“I’m never coming back here,” you declare, plopping down on a nearby bench, your legs feeling like jelly. The gym had already long closed for the night, leaving the two of you alone. Jeno had started working part-time at the gym and had gained free access to the equipment during off hours. You spent the first hour there helping him tidy up, wiping down machines and stacking weights, before he finally dragged you onto the floor for a workout. Once he noticed how bad your form was, he stepped right in, transforming into your personal trainer.

“Don’t be like that, it’s not so bad! Besides, who else is going to keep me company?” he pouts cutely.

“I don’t know… how about you bring the other musclehead?” you say.

“It’s easier to work out when I’m looking at something pretty,” he replies.

“Since when isn’t Jaemin pretty?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” he counters, sitting down beside you on the bench. You can’t help but notice the way his broad shoulders fill out his tank top. He hands you his sports water bottle, and you shoot a mouthful of water down your throat.

“Have you had enough fun torturing me yet? Can we leave now?” You yawn, stretching your arms above your head and feeling the pleasant release in your muscles.

He takes the water bottle back and drinks from it before he stands to find his bag. “Yeah, want to shower first?”

You try to follow him into the men’s locker room but he stops you abruptly, a serious look crossing his face. You quirk an eyebrow, and he gives you a stern look in return. “Cameras, dummy,” he reminds you, then dramatically gestures toward the women’s bathroom, his playful tone returning. With a chuckle, you head in the opposite direction, hoping anyone monitoring the footage later would see you as merely lost.

After you freshen up, you meet him in the office, where he’s already sitting at his desk. “I just need to finish up a few more things, and then we can go,” he says.

You take a seat on the edge of the desk, watching him as he focuses intently on the screen. He logs something on the computer, brows furrowed as he concentrates on the screen in front of him. He looks so good, especially with his hair still slightly damp from the shower, beads of water clinging to the ends.

Reaching over, you grab the towel draped around his neck and gently use it to dry his hair a little further. When you pull away, he instinctively reaches out without looking and kisses the back of your hand in thanks, his lips brushing against your skin softly. The warmth of his gesture sends a flutter through you.

You need him bad.

Your eyes dart around the room, scanning every high corner and every hidden nook, but you don’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Hey, Jen, are there any cameras in here?” you ask.

“No,” he responds absentmindedly, his eyes glued to the computer screen, focused on the task at hand.

“Can I sit in your lap?”

“Anything you want, sweet girl, just shut the door,” he replies. You shut the office door, the soft click of the latch resonating in the otherwise quiet space, effectively sealing the two of you inside.

Jeno scoots back in his chair, giving you ample room to settle down on his lap. You straddle his waist, positioning yourself so that you’re facing him. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you can feel the warmth of his body radiating against yours as he resumes his work.

After a few moments, he hits the last key of the keyboard with a sound of finality, and then the soft whirring of the computer comes to a stop as he shuts it down. You pull back slightly to look at him

“I’m done, baby. You ready?” he asks

You shake your head no, your eyes glazing over and you lean in, closing the space between you, and press your lips against his in a kiss.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, caught off guard by the sudden shift. But then his body responds instinctively; his hands slide up your thighs to grip your waist, pulling you closer against him. The kiss deepens as all the air in the room seems to disappear, his tongue brushing against yours in a slow waltz.

You break away from the kiss just enough to whisper, “There’s one more workout I want to try before we leave.”

Jeno snorts a laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Corny,” he teases.

You give his shoulder a playful slap, pouting slightly. “Stop! I’m trying to be sexy!”

He just shakes his head at you in amusement before bringing your lips back together.He shifts in the chair, his hands guiding you to adjust your position. You can feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your gym clothes, his body pressed against yours, hard and throbbing.

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping firmly as he lifts you slightly, guiding you to grind against him. The friction is everything, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that makes you gasp into his mouth. He chuckles, the sound vibrates against your lips. “You like that?”

You nod, unable to form words as his hands move to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. His eyes rake over your body, and you feel a flush of heat as his gaze lingers on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your waist. “so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice thick with desire.

Your hands fumble with the tie of his sweats, eager to feel him. He helps you, shoving his bottoms down just enough to free himself, and you can’t help but let out a small moan at the sight of him.

You shift back slightly, lining yourself up with him, and then you’re sinking down, taking him inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, it's a fullness that makes your head spin. You let out a shaky breath and your hands grip his shoulders for support as you adjust to the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Jeno groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he helps you move. You start slow, rocking against him, testing the rhythm, but it’s not enough. You need more.

You lift yourself up slightly before sinking back down, harder this time, and the moan that escapes Jeno’s lips is enough to spur you on. You set a steady pace, riding him with a growing urgency. He matches your fire as his hips snap up to meet you halfway. His hands roam over your body,the pads of his fingers touching and teasing to drive you wild.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmurs in praise. “Just like that.”

His words fuel you, and you move faster, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hands grip your hips, guiding you, helping you find the perfect angle. Every thrust sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, building and building until you’re teetering on the edge.

“Jeno,” you whimper, your voice breaking as you cling to him. “I’m so close.”

He tightens his grip on your hips, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. “Come for me sweetie, ” he growls, his voice rough with need. “Let me feel you.”

His words push you over the edge, and you shatter, your body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. He follows you with a low groan, his hips jerking up as he spills himself inside you, his grip on you tightening as he rides out his own climax.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breathing, the two of you clinging to each other as you come down from the high. Jeno’s hands move up your back, pulling you close, and you rest your forehead against his, your breaths mingling.

“I’m ready now,” you say with a breathy laugh.

As you drive back, Jeno’s hands are interlocked with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your palm lovingly. His eyes are focused on the road ahead, a soft smile on his lips as he hums along to the melody playing on the radio.

In moments like this, you feel a flicker of guilt. He’s so loving, so affectionate, and you absolutely cherish it, but a nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind. You know he likes you, and your heart aches every time you consider it because you’re not sure you’re ready for a relationship. The last thing you want to do is break his heart.

You can’t keep putting it off forever.

“Jeno, can I ask you a question?” you say.

He hums in response, granting you permission to go on, his attention still largely on the road.

“How do you feel about me?” you ask shakily.

A look of surprise crosses his face, and he stutters for a moment, clearly searching for the right words. Taking a deep breath, he finally says, “Honestly, at first, I had a crush on you. I kind of still do, but I know casual is your thing, and I don’t want to ruin what we have now,” he confesses.

“Jeno, I don’t want to hurt you, ever. If you want, we can stop. I don’t want to keep trampling on your heart like this.” You knew friends with benefits could become a dangerous game once feelings got involved. You wish you could return his feelings fully, envisioning a future together, but the timing isn’t right for you.

Jeno shakes his head, a reassuring smile on his face as he squeezes your hand tighter. “No, really, it’s not like that. It’s not some undying love, and I’m not heartbroken that you don’t feel the same way. I’m a grown-up, I can handle it,” he laughs lightly, dispelling some of the heaviness in the air.

You sigh a little in relief and you can see in his eyes that he means it. You could kind of feel the shift as well. Before he was more like a love sick puppy but now he's more….content? Mature? It feels like you’re connecting on a different level, almost like best friends, similar to how you feel with Renjun.

Your heart blooms at the thought. Maybe when you’re ready, Jeno will be the first place you look.

—

Sunnyboy [9:00] jun forgot to pay for the wifi can i come over and use yours? library closed and have a paper due at 12

You read the message, a small smirk playing on your lips as you consider the true intention behind it. Honestly, it’s hard not to imagine he’s just making up an excuse to end up at your place, but you can’t deny how much you enjoy his company. When he arrives, though, it becomes clear he wasn’t lying.

Haechan sits on your couch, furiously typing away at his laptop, his face stone serious as he races against the clock. Classic him—procrastinating until the last possible minute to whip up something to submit for an assignment he had weeks to complete.

You quietly make him some tea, settling down by the window with a book you had been eagerly waiting to dive into. The storm outside intensifies, rain pounding against the glass, setting the perfect atmosphere for a cozy read while Haechan works alongside you. After about an hour of reading the thunder was becoming too distracting, striking down hard and scaring you away from the window and onto the couch next to haechan.

“Scaredy cat,” Haechan teases without taking his eyes off the screen.

You roll your eyes playfully, closing your book and propping your head on his shoulder, stealing a moment to watch him focus. It’s five minutes to twelve, and he’s typing furiously, powering through the conclusion. Just as he finishes and hits the submit button, the storm roars louder, and suddenly the power cuts out, plunging the room into darkness.

“Shit!… YES!” he cries in triumph as he realizes the submission page went through just in time.

You laugh beside him. “Your luck scares me sometimes.”

He turns to you, a triumphant grin lighting up his face, and he leans over to kiss you in celebration. “Thank you so much. you’re a lifesaver,” he says.

“Anytime.”

Finally catching sight of the storm outside, his eyebrows shoot up. “Damn, when did it get that bad? I don’t think I can drive in that,” he worries.

“Did you think I was going to make you? You’re staying over.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Me and you all alone in the dark? Does that mean I finally got you all to myself?”

With a teasing smile, you stand up from the couch and make your way to the bedroom. “How will we possibly pass the time?” you ask, throwing a glance over your shoulder.

He closes his laptop, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable as he follows. “I have a couple ideas.”

Once you cross the threshold of your bedroom door you turn to face him, a playful grin dancing on your lips. With deliberate slowness, you begin to strip, giving him a show as you remove each piece of clothing, throwing them at him tauntingly.

“I’m sorry for making you wait so long,” you tease as you toss your shirt in his direction and he catches it before it can land on his head. His eyes roam up and down your body hungrily, and you could sense the dominant headspace he was slipping into. You realize it wouldn’t be like last time, you wouldn’t be in control.

“You will be,” he states firmly, gripping the fabric of his shirt and pulling it above his head as he strides towards you.

"I'm so scared," you taunt, letting out a soft, mocking laugh as you saunter backward towards the bed, your hips swaying with every step. You watch as his jaw tightens, his eyes darkening with a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

“You’re really asking for it tonight, aren’t you?” He says finally standing in front of you.

You smirk, as your knees hit the edge of the bed. “Maybe I am. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Let’s see if you can keep that attitude.” In an instant he's pushing you down and climbing on top of you. His lips crash against yours and his tongue seeks entrance eagerly. You moan into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. But he swiftly grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand while the other trails down your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

He spreads your legs open roughly, forcing his way between them and grinding his hips down sharply against you.

“Feel me, baby? That’s what you do to me,” he moans against your skin.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Please, I need you.”

“Begging already?” he teases, his fingers slipping between your bodies and dipping inside you. “I haven’t even started yet.”

He collects your juices on his fingers before he pulls them out, savoring the taste of you on his tongue when he licks them clean. “Sweet.” He groans before connecting your lips again. You chase the taste, but he pulls back, sitting up to strip off the rest of his clothes. Breathless, you watch as he reveals himself, his hard cock standing at attention.

He slips off the bed, positioning you how he wants. You find yourself lying on your back with your head hanging off the edge of the mattress.

“Tap if you need air,” is the only warning you get before he slips his cock past your lips.

One hand grips the back of your neck while the other trails down your body, teasing your nipples before he’s leaning down to kiss your navel.

You relax your throat, taking him deeper with every thrust. There’s little for you to do other than lay there and be his toy. His movements are gentle at first, but then he picks up the pace, thrusting harder as he watches the way he bulges in your throat.

Suddenly, he spreads your legs wide and delivers a stinging slap to your cunt, making you jump. He circles your clit expertly before opening you up again with his fingers. You moan around his cock, and he shivers at the vibrations the sound makes.

His pace quickens, thrusts becoming more forceful as he fucks your mouth. You choke, and he moans, pushing himself down your throat and holding himself there despite your struggles for breath. You hold on until tears prick your eyes and he finally pulls back to allow you to gasp for air.

“So good,” he whispers as you catch your breath, focusing now on fucking you with his fingers.

You clench around his fingers and he pulls out delivering a wet slap to the inside of your thigh. “Not yet”

Using the juices that coat his fingers, he strokes his cock, covering himself in you before he thrusts back down your throat. The wet, gargled sounds echo in the room, and his balls slap against your forehead as he pushes into your mouth.

With a light grip around your throat, he wanted to feel the way he moved inside of you, his thrusts quickening. You can sense he’s close, but after a few long, slow strokes, he pulls out, not wanting to finish yet. He helps you sit up, and you know your throat will be sore tomorrow.

You crawl further up the bed and get on your hands and knees, but as he joins you, he delivers a slap to your ass, shaking his head. “No, I want to see you. Turn over.”

You follow his command, spreading your legs wide for him, a desperate need coursing through you.

He lines himself up at your entrance, teasingly gliding his tip through your folds. “Tell me you want me,” he says, his free hand gripping your throat tightly.

“I want you so bad,” you say struggling to breathe.

He slips inside, just barely giving you the tip, teasing you as he pushes in and out. “Tell me you missed me.”

You nod pathetically. “I missed you, bear.”

A low moan escapes his lips at the nickname, and he responds by giving you another inch. “Now apologize to me.”

“I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’ll think twice before I do it again,” you reply slyly.

He smiles. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I get it from you,” you tease, rolling your hips up daringly with a soft moan.

Without a word, he tightens his grip on your throat, thrusting into you hard. His hips slap against yours loudly, your back arching at the intensity. He doesn’t hold back or let you ease into it, he starts fucking you into the mattress.

“Not so funny now, is it?” he breathes, his movements relentless.

Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, your ankles locked together to keep him close. “Fuck!” you moan, overwhelmed with pleasure.

He leans down, connecting his lips with yours, moaning into your mouth as he lets go of your throat. His hand moves down to grip your hips instead, leaning until your chests touch. Buried in your neck, his hands squeeze your ass cheeks as he lifts your hips to meet each of his powerful thrusts. He fills you completely, stretching you in all the ways you love, and the sounds he makes in your ear has you clenching tight around him.

Suddenly, he pulls out, manhandling you into a new position. He grips your ankles, yanking your legs from around his waist and pushing them above your head. Your hamstrings stretch to the limit, but he pins you down, making sure you take every bit of him. He pounds into you from above, and you claw at his skin, all you could think about was how he feels inside you.

“Look at you,” he says, his eyes locked on where he’s plunging deep inside you. “Spread open like this, pussy swallowing me so easily. We trained you well, huh? You’re a fucking pro.”

One of his hands releases your ankle, dropping down to rub your clit with urgency. His fingers move in a blur, pushing you to the edge as he strikes that perfect depth. You squirm in his grasp, overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure building inside you. It’s almost too much, and every thrust makes it harder to hold on.

“Come on, baby, you know what I want. Don’t fight it,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your chest.

Your body tenses and you're practically showering him with how hard you squirt. Your walls force him out and he just sits back and watches you convulse and make a mess.

He smiles wickedly at you “look at the mess you made.” Your juices drip down his chest and stomach.

Your cheeks heat up, and you watch, frozen, as he takes in the sight of you. “Don't get shy now,” he teases, before plunging back into you.

You're drenched, so wet that he slips in and out of you with ease. He loses all sense of control, the grip of his hands is bruising as his hips grind down hard. His moans are loud and primal, and he gets rougher the closer he gets to the edge. He slaps your thigh harshly, trying to keep you still and open for him as you squirm, trying to close your legs from the overstimulation.

“I know you can take it big girl come on,” he coos.

“I can’t… it’s too much,” you plead.

He slaps your cheek, the shock of the pain sending a jolt through your body. Then, he grips your face, his eyes boring into yours as he chants, “Take it. Take it. Take it,” with each thrust.

“Yes! Haechan!” You moan.

He uses extra strength to keep your hips pinned down as he uses you. His eyes flutter and his brows furrow and he finally cums deep inside of you. “Fuuck” he moans drawn out. His hips continue to move, fucking you through his high. He didn't want to stop, his thrusts turning pathetic as he finally succumbs to his overstimulation and locks up, unable to move.

When he finally pulls away, everything is sticky and wet, and you're left lying, exhausted, on the bed. The wet sheets stick to your body as you peel yourself off.

“Ew, who made this mess?” Haechan teases, as he changes the sheets, and you throw a pillow at him, leaving to take a shower.

Once he's finished cleaning up, he joins you in the shower for round two.

—

Chenle had rented a cozy cabin for the weekend, and you and your friends sat in front of the fireplace, laughing and sharing stories as the night wore on. Some movie flickered on the screen behind you, mostly forgotten as you all munched on snacks, wrapped up in blankets scattered across the floor.

Jisung was the only one still watching the movie, completely engrossed given the fact he picked it. It was some old alien abduction movie that the internet told him had “real alien footage” in it.

Meanwhile, Yangyang was sprawled on the couch, completely passed out, a half-spilled bag of Cheeto puffs resting on his chest.

You, Mia, Yuna, and Chenle were deep into your usual gossip session.

“Guys, I can’t hear anything! It’s getting good!” Jisung complained, shooting you an exasperated look.

“That’s what captions are for!” Yuna shot back.

“Spoiler, the aliens are fake,” you added.

“Shut up bro. You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jisung hissed back in annoyance

“Can you all ignore him like I do and focus?” Chenle scolded, trying to redirect the conversation. “I’m trying to find out what happened next!”

The group pressed you for the juicy details of your sex life, eager to hear what had happened since you last caught them up. You had spent the day playing drinking games, chatting, and even sledding outside. But now, with the moon high in the sky, it was the perfect time for some dirty gossip.

“Basically, he had my legs up like this,” you said, using Mia as a demonstration dummy. Your friends were nosy, they wanted explicit details and you were more than happy to share with the table.

Mia started moaning dramatically, adding to the theatrics, and you playfully smacked her butt before pushing off.

“Omggggg, where do you find these guys?” Yuna squealed, barely able to contain her excitement.

Mia sits up and grabs her snack, throwing some trail mix in her mouth. “Literally, it’s not fair! You’re hogging all the good dick!”

“Sorry, guys, find your own.” you retorted.

“So, what are you going to do next?” Chenle asked, his tone turning more serious.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to gauge where he was going with this.

“In the long run—are you going to pick one or…?” he left the question hanging.

“Yeah, whoever you don’t pick, I call dibs,” Mia chimed in jokingly.

You felt a weight settle in your chest as reality hit you. You hadn’t truly confronted the question. The thought of the "what ifs" and "whens" sent a shiver of fear through you and whenever your mind would wander to those questions you ran away.

“I really don’t know,” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “I guess I’m just scared. I don’t think I can handle being thrown away again. I’m not ready to open my heart up yet,” you admitted quietly.

“That’s understandable,” Yuna replied gently. “But what about them? Are you sure they haven’t caught feelings?”

“I talked to Jeno about his feelings, and we came to an understanding,” you shared. “But for the others, as far as I know, it’s been strictly casual.”

“Just have five boyfriends,” Chenle suggested with a shrug. “That way, if one dumps you, you have a backup.”

“That’s the kind of greed they warn about in the Bible,” you laughed. “You know your ideas are always terrible, right?”

“I say don’t worry about it. Just have fun and enjoy yourself.” Mia advised with a wink.

“Be young and turnt!” Yuna added, throwing her hands up in a playful cheer.

You laugh and the talk lifts a weight off your shoulders. They were right. You should just enjoy what life threw your way and accept things for what they were.

“Glad we had this chat. Now can we watch the movie? The aliens are about to have an orgy!” Jisung exclaimed.

All heads whip towards the screen.

“Got your dumb ass now, watch the movie,” he scolded, a triumphant grin on his face.

—

Mark invited you over for game night with the guys, and you were a bundle of nerves. The last time all of you were together, things got a bit… wild. Mark had really bonded with the others outside of gaming, and they all hung out often now. You never knew who you'd run into when you arrived - sometimes it was Haechan, but other times you'd catch Jaemin just as he was slipping out the door, sending you a sly wink as he left. On occasion, you'd find Jeno sprawled out on the couch, engrossed in animal crossing on Mark's Switch while you and Mark would sneak off to his room for a quickie. Essentially, Mark’s house had become the new hangout spot.

When you got there, the kickback was already in full swing. The guys were all over the house. You could smell food, and you were already feeling better about being there. Jaemin and Jeno were locked in a Mario Kart battle, while Mark and Haechan were in the kitchen watching Renjun carefully arrange the food as they rambled about some MMORPG. Your stomach growled at the sight of the spread. Ducking past the TV, you slipped into the kitchen, offering greetings as you passed.

You walk up behind Renjun, swiping a nacho while he adjusts a bowl of salsa, tilting it ever so slightly for the perfect angle, everything had to be perfect for maximum snacking efficiency. It's the second time he's done so since you walked up. A furrow appears between his brows as he considers the placement. "I wasn't done yet," he grumbles, not looking up, his focus solely on the geometric harmony of the snack arrangement. You kiss his cheek with a laugh and turn to Mark and Haechan.

"What are you geeks talking about?" you tease.

"Don't listen to her babe, she just doesn't get us," Haechan jokingly reassures Mark.

Mark laughs, nudging him in the arm. "Dude, shut up."

Renjun straightens, pleased with his organization of the snacks. "We were waiting for you to get here so we could actually eat before the game," he says, gesturing towards Haechan. "He's been trying to sneak chips since we got here."

"Not sorry," Haechan shrugs, already reaching for the salsa.

"Okay, I'm starving," you say. Everyone piles into the kitchen, assembling their own plates before heading back out into the living room. Conversation flows easily as you all eat, enjoying the food Renjun brought for everyone.

Once the food is gone and the cleanup is finished, you collapse onto the couch. "So, what game are we thinking?" you ask innocently.

You hadn't yet realized you had walked into a wolf den.

"Well, before you got here, we were having a nice little chat with Mark," Jaemin says, his tone giving away exactly what that chat entailed. He's sitting to your left on the couch, too close for comfort. “We thought of the perfect game.”

"Oh," you laugh nervously. "…Really? And what's that?"

"Mark here thinks he's the best you've ever had, but clearly he hasn't met me," Haechan chimes in from his spot on the floor, leaning forward with a mischievous grin.

"This was their idea," Renjun says, gesturing to Haechan and Jaemin. He's standing near the TV, having just returned from throwing something away in the kitchen.

"Hear them out, though. It will be fun I promise," Jeno adds from beside Haechan.

Your head whips back and forth, searching for someone, anyone, who'll give you a straight answer. What the hell was going on.

"I thought I was special, baby. You should have told me you were fucking around," Mark says, his voice laced with a teasing possessiveness. "I don't mind, though, as long as they know I fuck you the best." He's on your right, effectively boxing you in.

Your face heats up instantly, and your eyes widen in disbelief.

"W-what are you guys talking about?" you stammer.

Finally, Renjun takes pity on you. "They want to see who can make you cum the fastest."

You knew nothing good would come of having them all together in one room. "And what does the winner get?" you ask, swallowing hard.

"The winner gets you all to themselves for a week," Haechan says, his smile predatory. Definitely his idea.

Jaemin pulls something from his pocket and hands it to you. "We're gonna roll this die, and that will decide how we try to make you cum" he says. It was a sexy die. Of course, Jaemin’s freaky ass had a sexy die. Written on its sides were “Fingers,” “Thigh,” “Dick,” “Dry Hump,” “Tongue,” and a Free Space.

"Some of these aren't very advantageous," you point out.

Mark shrugs, a confident smirk on his face. "That's the fun of it."

They were the players, and you were their board.

"You down? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course," Mark adds.

You take a deep breath. "I’m down." If you were honest with yourself, you were more than down. "How are we doing this?"

"You'll be the timekeeper to make sure it’s fair, and we'll start oldest to youngest," Renjun informs you, inching closer to the couch as the game is about to begin.

You nod, your heart racing as you contemplate what’s coming. You can already feel yourself growing wet despite them not having done anything yet.

"I’m first," Mark says, his voice a low rumble beside you. He pulls you to straddle him, his eyelids heavy as he takes in how pretty you look perched up on his lap. He leans back lazily on the couch and he reaches up to grab the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer for a kiss. His hands are busy stripping you while your lips move against each other. his touch drags teasingly over your body as he removes your clothes. His fingers brush against your nipples, making you gasp, and his hips grind into you from below as he helps you adjust your position after removing your panties.

"He's cheating lowkey," Renjun complains.

"Literally," Jaemin rolls his eyes.

“Yea! you're getting a head start, hands off.” Haechan chimes in.

“I'm just helping her undress to make it easier," he smirks, raising his hands in defeat.

He takes the die from your hands, his fingers lingering against your palm, sending a shiver down your spine. He tosses it onto the coffee table in front of you, the sound echoing in the suddenly quiet room. All eyes turn towards it, anticipation thick in the air, to see what it lands on.

THIGH

Mark groans at the fate that's been dealt to him, while the others snicker.

"That's what you get," Haechan teases.

Renjun quickly hands over his phone, the timer already pulled up.

"You ready?" you ask Mark, a sly smirk on your face, finding amusement in the choice he got.

His hands gripping your waist firmly as he positions you over his jean-clad thigh. His face showed nothing but determination. "I'm ready, baby."

You start the timer and Mark doesn't waste any time. His mouth descends upon your breasts, nipping and licking at the sensitive skin as he bounces you on his thigh, the friction creates a delicious sensation, making your breath hitch in your throat.

You're already wet, and the way he's handling you, dragging you over his thigh wasn’t helping the wet patch forming on his jeans. He slaps your ass before gripping it roughly, "just like that, baby, give it to me," he breathes against your skin, words muffled against the nipple in his mouth.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. You love when he talks dirty, the sound of his voice doing something primal to you. You grind down roughly against his thigh, chasing your orgasm, wanting to be good for him. His hand finds your breast, joining the insistent tug of his lips as he expertly works you up. You tremble, a live wire under his ministrations. You were surprised at yourself. You didn't think you could come from a little thigh riding, but the rough pads of Mark's fingers, the way they pinch and tug at your nipples as you grind against him… it's only a matter of time now.

A hand reaches out for your face. You expect it to be Mark's, but his hands are fully occupied. It's Jaemin's face that greets you, his eyes locking onto yours as he pulls you into a searing kiss. Your surprise breaks way to pleasure as you let him take control.

His kiss melts you, and a whimper tumbles from your lips. You kiss him back feverishly and he matches your passion as his tongue slides into your mouth. Mark's hands tighten on your waist, his movements becoming rougher, pressing you down harder against his thigh. Mark's mouth, his hands, and his thigh, along with Jaemin's hot wet tongue, drives you over the edge.

You cum against Mark's thigh with a shuddering gasp, the phone almost slipping from your grasp before you realize you have to stop the timer.

8 minutes 19 seconds

Haechan groans dramatically when you show everyone the time. “You fucking helped him, dumbass! He could’ve gotten to 10 minutes,” Haechan complains, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

Jaemin shrugs, a nonchalant smile playing on his lips, "I don't care."

"I'm next," Renjun pipes up from his spot on the floor, a gleam in his eye. Despite the fact that there was plenty of room on the couch, Haechan, Renjun, and Jeno all sat crowded at your feet on the floor ensuring they had the best view of the show.

You climb off Mark's lap, and Renjun takes his place on the couch, settling in comfortably. "You're literally last, trade places with me," Haechan tells Jaemin.

Jaemin just rolls his eyes and scoots down on the couch, allowing Haechan to take his place and sit on the other side of you. Mark situates himself on the floor beside your leg.

Once everyone is settled and comfortable, Renjun rolls the die. Everyone holds their breath as it rolls to a stop.

DICK

"Fuck yes!" he shouts in triumph.

Everyone else groans in unison, but you can't help but smile. You didn't care who did it; you were just happy that you're finally getting filled up.

"It's rigged," Jeno huffs.

"Shut up, dog boy," Renjun smiles, unbuckling his pants.

Renjun pulls himself from his confines and strokes himself a few times before helping you over his lap. "Take all the time you need, baby, I don't mind," he winks.

He didn't care about winning, not when he still had his Tuesdays with you. Also why would he rush you, if you were riding his dick he was winning either way. He helps you sink down on his cock, and you start the timer, biting your lip at the stretch.

You could feel their eyes burning into you as you ride Renjun, other moans accompanying yours as you bounce on his hips. You look over and see Haechan already pulled himself free, stroking himself lazily while watching you intently. One of his hands reaches out to grab your wrist, resting your hand in his lap,and you grip him. Jeno is a little more conscious, only palming himself through his sweats, while Mark does the same. Jaemin sits beside Haechan, leaning back cockily, waiting for his turn.

You're so turned on it's driving you crazy; Renjun's hips kick up, fucking up into you roughly. "God damn," he moans, his eyes locked on yours.

You bounce on him with everything you have while trying to stimulate Haechan. Renjun feels amazing and with everyone watching, you feel twice as sensitive. You press your lips against his, and you kiss him desperately. "I'm close," you moan.

He grips your waist, stilling your movements, before grinding you down against him. He spreads his legs a little wider, then jackhammers up into you, jostling you around in his lap. You grip his phone with one hand and release Haechan from your other. All you could focus on at the moment was Renjun.

"Hold it, baby, there's no rush," he says, his voice a husky murmur against your skin. You throw your head back, and a loud moan escapes your throat.

You take it, savoring every second as he fucks you. You feel yourself tightening down around him, close to cumming, but he slows almost to a stop.

"Didn't think I'd ever say this, but hurry up!" Jeno groans, his impatience growing.

Renjun throws his head back, his hands gripping your waist tight as he guides you up and down his cock. He makes you ride him slow, enjoying every moment of being inside of you as he drags out his time.

"You feel so fucking good," he groans out. You could tell by the lazy look in his eyes he was enjoying this. He looked like he was floating on a cloud, high off the feeling he got when he was 6 inches deep in your warm cunt.

His hips pick up their pace, and you can tell he's close. He pulls you down into a kiss, smacking your ass as you ride him. You can feel your orgasm building back up quickly, and with one well-placed deep thrust, he's cumming deep inside you. You shiver as he fills you up and spill over the edge with him, clamping down hard as you cum together.

10 minutes 22 seconds

The others look at the two of you, unsure if they should be happy or mad that Renjun just lost, because from the blissed out look on his face did he really?

Renjun helps you off his lap and you sit down on the couch, your legs still gently shaking. You can feel your wetness dripping onto Mark’s couch, and you cringe a little at the thought.

Renjun stands up and zips his pants again while Jeno takes his spot. Die already in hand, he rolls it on the coffee table eagerly.

FREE

The gods must have been looking down on Jeno, because he rolled a free space, and he was about to use the hell out of it. Jeno was in it to win it.

His eyes lock onto Haechan and Jaemin. "Get off the couch," he commands.

Haechan groaned, his hand still wrapped around his hardness, but he obeyed, sliding off the couch with a reluctant sigh. Jaemin, however, didn’t move. Not an inch. Jeno’s glare sharpened, but Jaemin simply raised a cocky brow, his expression daring Jeno to make him. Jeno rolls his eyes but doesn't push any further. He had other priorities.

Jeno tugged his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest. His muscles flexed as he tossed the fabric aside. “Lay down,” he ordered. You obeyed instantly and sank into the couch cushions.

Jaemin shifted slightly, settling your head into his lap with a handsome smile. His fingers brushed against your cheek as he caressed your face. You couldn’t help but glance up at him, he always looked good from above you.

Jeno noticed, his jaw tightened and a flicker of irritation crossing his features. Without a word, he shucked his pants down, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He freed himself, thick and heavy, and positioned himself between your legs. His hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze back to him. “Pay attention, baby,” he reprimands you. “Start the timer.”

Your fingers trembled as you fumbled with the phone, your breath hitching as Jeno’s free hand caressed your thighs. The moment the timer started, Jeno didn’t waste a second. He throws one of your legs over his shoulders and bottoms out instantly. The sudden stretch made you gasp, your back arching slightly off the couch. Jeno’s thrusts were sharp, precise, and calculated, each one driving deeper, harder, you could feel him all the way to the tips of your toes.

You moaned embarrassingly loud, your free hand gripping the couch cushions for support. Jeno’s rhythm was relentless, his hips slamming into you with a rhythm that left you breathless. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, punctuated by your desperate whimpers and the occasional grunt from Jeno.

From his new spot on the coffee table, Haechan moaned, “Shit,” his hand moving faster now as he watched you get fucked. His face was twisted in pleasure, his eyes locked on where Jeno was buried deep inside you. Mark had grown a little bolder. His hand now down his pants, his strokes slow but deliberate, his breaths quickening as he watched. Renjun, still sprawled on the floor, was too spent to join in, but his eyes watched as your chest bounced with each thrust.

Jaemin pets your hair as he looks down at you, stealing your attention away from Jeno again. “Look how well our pretty girl takes it.” He coos.

Jeno brows furrowed in frustration once he realizes you had taken your eyes off of him again. His hips grew rougher, his thrusts harder, until the springs of the couch groaned in protest. His hand moved to your clit, fingers pinching it meanly before rubbing soothing circles. Your eyes were on him again and he was going to keep it that way. He leans down, crashes his lips to yours and swallows your moans, keeping them all to himself.

The phone slipped from your grasp but you didn’t care. You couldn’t think about anything except the orgasm building in your lower belly. Jeno’s rhythm was unrelenting, each movement driving you closer to insanity. A particularly deep thrust that hits your g-spot just right sends you over and you shattered.

Your thighs trembled as you came, your mouth wide open in a silent scream. The pleasure was overwhelming, all-consuming, and Jeno didn’t stop. He kept fucking you, forcing both your thighs to your chest as he chased his own release. His breaths were ragged, his muscles taut as he pushed himself over the edge. With a low groan, he came deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he filled you.

“7 Minutes 43 seconds” Jaemin calls out showing everyone the time posted. Somewhere in all the chaos he found Renjun's phone.

Jeno didn’t pull out immediately, his forehead pressed against yours as he caught his breath. “Good girl,” he murmured loud enough for only you to hear.

Jeno finally pulled out with a grumble, tucking himself back into his briefs. “Someone didn’t stop the clock in time,” he muttered, shooting a pointed look at Jaemin, who only shrugged. You were too spent to sit up, laying still on the couch as your chest rose and fell with your labored breaths. Jaemin leaned down, stroking your cheek gently. “Good?” he asked, voice tender as he checked in on you.

You nodded weakly, your mind hazy and body still buzzing. Haechan took Jeno’s place and rolled the dice.

MOUTH

The others laughed at his luck but he only smiled wickedly. A shiver ran down your spine. They didn’t know the things Haechan could do with his mouth when he wasn’t running it.

Jaemin handed you back the timer and Haechan laid down between your legs on the couch, his face inches away from your used cunt. He blew air on your core teasingly causing your breath to hitch, you were still so sensitive. Haechan chuckles darkly, eyes boring into yours. “You ready baby?”

“Yes,” you whispered, starting the timer.

Haechan isn’t shy and he's not afraid of being a messy eater. Combine that with his competitive nature and you're in for it. He shoved his tongue deep inside you, curling it upward and tasting you with a satisfied hum. He didn’t care that he was eating his roommate’s cum from your pussy—if anything, it seemed to spur him on. He slurped away at the mix of your fluids like a whore. He was so nasty, so unapologetically filthy, and it was turning you on more than you cared to admit. You were already close and you couldn’t help the way you rocked your hips shamelessly against his face, clit bumping up against his nose deliciously. It was becoming too much and your thighs clamp down instinctively, trying to escape the growing overstimulation.

His arms pryed your thighs apart and pinned you down quickly. “None of that.” he tsked.

His fingers replaced his tongue, sliding deep inside you as he sucked harshly against your clit. He flicked his tongue expertly, scissoring you open with his fingers. The look in his eye was deadly. You couldn’t stop your hand from tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you rode his fingers. Your hips trembled, your body tensing up as he devoured you.

“Fuck, Haechan, don’t stop—I’m so close,” you begged, your voice breaking.

His lips found your clit again, humming against it before pulling off with a loud pop. His fingers rubbed at your clit messily, gliding back and forward easily through your slick. His tongue dived back in to lick you clean. It was all that you needed. You came hard, your body convulsing as pleasure ripped through you. He didn’t stop, rubbing your clit through your orgasm as you came on his tongue. He didn’t stop until your hips thrashed wildly, your moans filling the room.

“Time,” he reminded you and you scrambled to cut the timer.

3 minutes 35 seconds

You dropped the phone with a huff, your body sinking into the cushions as you tried to catch your breath. Haechan sat up with a triumphant smile, face soaked and glistening as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You waited for him to move, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned down, his face inches from yours.

“I’m not done. Everyone else got to have their fun with you, baby. It’s my turn,” he said, voice dangerous.

He had been rock hard for a while and he slipped into you, not bothering to take off any of his clothes. His cock stretched you, filling you completely, and you gasped at the sensation. He buried his face into your breasts, licking and sucking at your nipples as he fucked you. His hips moved erratically, selfishly, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Haechan,” you gasped his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as he buried himself into you again and again. He was so deep, so relentless, and you could feel him in your stomach with every thrust. He pulled out suddenly, stroking himself over your stomach. He had already been close due to him humping the cushions earlier. He wanted to make a mess of you. His cum splattered across your chest and stomach, hot and thick, and he groaned as he finished, his eyes locked on yours. It felt so disrespectful and degrading to do it but he loved it. You were his own little cum dumpster.

Haechan gave you a parting kiss when he finally moved off the couch. Before you could catch your breath Mark suddenly took his spot between your legs. You looked up at him in confusion, your mind still hazy from the intensity of Haechan’s attention.

“I’m sorry, baby girl. I need you,” he moaned, sinking into you without hesitation.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he fucked you, his hips slamming into your brutally. He regretted going first so badly, it was torture watching everyone else have their way with you. He was so fucking horny, he felt like he was going to die. He lifted your hips up off the couch and the new position hit deep. Your toes curled from the pleasure and you screamed. He knew you were probably still sensitive from Haechan, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He couldn’t slow down, not when you felt this good.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, his voice strained as he drove into you harder, deeper. Your hands pushed at his waist, it was too good. He shook his head, his grip tightening as he forced you to meet his thrusts. “Be my good girl. Come on,” he grunted, his breathing ragged.

You shook your head, your body tensing as another orgasm ripped through you. He bit his lip, his hips stuttering as he came inside you. He dropped you back down on the couch like a rag doll, your body limp and spent.

Jaemin tapped your cheek, bringing your hazy vision back into focus. “Our princess is doing such a good job,” he praised you, his voice soft and sweet. “I’m so proud of you.”

You gave him a dopey smile, your mind foggy and body completely wrecked. You were out of it—fucked stupid by this point.

“Can our big girl take one more for me?” he asked, his touch caressing your shoulder soothingly.

You pouted, your bottom lip trembling. You were so tired, but you didn’t want to let him down.

“Come on, princess. You can take one more. I know you can,��� he coaxed, his voice gentle but firm.

You gave him a nod, and he smiled, his pearly white teeth gleaming. “That’s my good girl,” he cooed.

He sat you up, taking the die that Haechan handed him and rolling…

FREE

Maybe the dice really was rigged

Jaemin looks over at you with a questioning gaze. "You sure you're up for it?" he asks again.

"Yes, sir," you reply, already slipping into your role.

He gives you a wicked grin. "In that case, stand up for me, pretty girl," he says, helping you to your feet.

You stand on shaky legs, and he grabs Renjun’s phone, still pulled up on the timer. "Don't drop it this time, princess," he warns, handing you the device, his eyes glinting with amusement.

He bends down, his hands cupping the back of your knees, signaling for you to jump. He lifts you up, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. The others look at the both of you curiously as Jaemin walks you over to the nearest wall and pins you up against it. He shoves his sweats and briefs down his thighs before lining himself up at your entrance.

“Start the time,” he said and once he hears the chime of the phone indicating that the time has started he slams into you.

You’re suspended in mid air pinned up against the wall, he uses you like you were nothing more than a sex doll. You were unable to move, your mouth made an o shape when you moaned and you stayed spread wide open for him. Maybe you were a sex doll.

You can feel the tears that stream down your face in overstimulation as he pounds into you. His lips steal your breath as he kisses you and his arms bulge as he keeps you lifted and steady for him.

"Touch yourself, princess," he instructs you, his voice muffled against your lips. Your free hand comes up, and shakily starts circling your clit. You moan, throwing your head back against the wall and your fingers falter, causing Jaemin to scold you, "Nuh-uh, baby, stay with me."

His hips don't slow, and he's fucking you so hard that the picture frames on the wall start to shake and threaten to fall. Jaemin's hips pick up an impossible pace, and you can feel yourself growing close to the edge. Your fingers play with yourself faster, trying to reach the climax.

“Thats right baby, almost there i can feel it” he moans “dirty pussy gripping me so fucking tight”

You moan at his words, and cum against him, pleasure washing over you. You stop the timer immediately, finally allowed to drop it from your grasp. You hear it clatter against the floor, followed by curses from Renjun. You slump against the wall behind you, and Jaemin helps you to your feet.

Jaemin picks you up and carries you back to the couch, and you all but welcome the soft cushions that support your body. You are dead tired. Renjun collects his forgotten phone and looks at the time stamped on the screen before showing it to the others. "4 minutes 19 seconds," he announces.

As you catch your breath, Haechan lets out a joyful whoop, while Jeno and Mark groan in response. Jaemin tends to you on the couch, checking in on you with a concerned expression. Mark gets up, announcing that he's going to run a bath for you, and the others begin to dress themselves or adjust their clothing. Jaemin helps you to the bathroom, where he and Mark carefully help you wash up, the warmth of the water soothing your tired muscles. The sounds of the others cleaning the living room filter through the closed door.

Later, you lay in Mark's bed, feeling exhausted but content. The others shuffle into the room, Renjun speaks first, "We're going to head back now, if that's okay. Do you need anything?" You shake your head sleepily and get cozy under the sheets.

“Rest up, ok?” Jaemin leans down to kiss your forehead before following Jeno and Renjun out of the room after they say their own goodbyes. Haechan lingers, a mischievous glint in his eye, and says to Mark, "Enjoy your time with her while you can, because starting tomorrow, she's all mine." He winks before leaving the room.

Mark jokingly rolls his eyes and gets up to lock the front door behind the others. When he returns to the room, he crawls under the sheets next to you and pulls you tight against his chest.

"Mark, I'm sorry," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I should have told you that I had something going on with the others."

Mark shrugs, his expression relaxed. "I was a little shocked when they told me, honestly. You just look so… innocent." He chuckles.

"Do you see me differently now?" you ask, a frown growing on your face.

Mark kisses your frown away, his lips gentle. "You're still my baby girl. I don't care what you do, nothing will ever change that."

He showers your face with kisses, making you giggle, and you playfully push him away. Then, you climb on top of him, straddling his hips.

"You're not tired?" he asks in amusement. You grin, feeling a surge of confidence. "I've got pretty good stamina," you say, leaning down to kiss him. "Plus, it’s like Haechan said, tomorrow I'm his, but tonight…" You trail off, your lips brushing against Mark's skin as you snake down his body.

Mark's eyes darken, and he whispered, "You're mine."

A/N: THE ENDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe ill do the HC spin off maybe i wont, you'll just have to see. Lets see how well this does and ill think about it.

a/n: all choices during the dice game were randomly selected except haechan, he originally got thigh but mouth was literally made for him so I changed it

[vicolette]

Secret Lover !

– A/N : I honestly have no idea what I'm about to write, but enjoy!!

– Warnings : mentions of y/n & swear words

"Pau Cubarsi, this was a really exciting match, don’t you think so?"

The said person nervously smiled in agreement at the question, knowing that one of the captains were behind him. Real Madrid wasn’t a team that you could easily win against, so this victory was very special for the whole team.

"Yeah, the win was well deserved." His response was slightly more negative than he had thought it would come out as, his eyes looking away from the interviewer as Pau searched for something – or someone.

And then he saw you.

You stood beside his older sister, although still maintaining a respectful distance. Irene had told you that, even if the media doesn’t know about your secret relationship, you could still act like her bestest friend, since you were practically her 'sister in law' already. But you didn’t do it, and it made him stare for a second, until Raphinha snapped him out of it.

"Everything alright, Pau?" Cubarsi tensed up at the voice, coming back to reality as he turned his head to face Raphinha. He blinked once, twice, then nodded his head with a sheepish smile on his face.

"Yes! Sorry." Afterwards, he sent you one last glance, which you had caught when Irene shook your shoulders, and faced the interviewer.

The questions were interesting and very professional, but Pau only gave short replies and zoned out during most of it, his gaze always returning to you. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game, since nobody would believe him if he said it was due to his family, yet he enjoyed it and continued.

A mischievous grin threatened to escape his lips as soon as the woman interviewing him was done, thanking him for his time, yet he was quick to say goodbye and leave. His steps were loud and clear, cameras from each angle were filming the moment, but he didn’t seem to care.

"Pau, my boy!" As the teenage boy was pulled into a tight hug by his mother, he dapped his father up and sent him a smirk, his eyes having a glint of excitement in them.

At that moment, you took a step back to distance yourself and let them have their moment, but Pau had other plans. Ignoring his sister, because she apparently didn’t want to hug him when he stank, he made his way over.

"Pau?" Once he stood right in front of you, taking a step closer whenever you tried to make some space between each other, he suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly.

There were screams getting louder by each second passing and his teammates were standing close by, shocked to see that he indeed had a girlfriend, whereas his family acted like it was normal.

"You shouldn’t hug her so hard. She‘s getting the life squeezed out of her!" His father yelled out before he and the others made their way down to the field, not acknowledging the fact how you were frozen in place.

"Pau–"

"I missed you, so fucking much…"

Your voice was stuck in your throat as you stared at him, his head nuzzled into your shoulder as he inhaled your sweet scent. It smelled just like you, like home, like love.

"You just blew up our cover!" The realization dawned upon him at that exact moment, slowly loosening his grip around your waist and as he raised his head, looking around to see how many fans were still watching.

"Oh." His eyes darted around to see where his family was at, seeing how they were with the other family of his teammates, then looking at them. Most of them were still surprised to see this scene, yet some others were laughing about it.

Once they – namely Lamine, Hector and Alejandro – realized that he was staring, they started to joke around about it, pointing at him as their laughter grew.

However, Pau merely returned his focus towards you, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, since it was so easy to get access to it with the height difference. Whether or not this was planned, he couldn’t care less now, especially since he could express his love for you in public.

"Whatever."

"Pau!"

– A/N : acc quite proud of this, thanks for reading<33

[oneforthemunny]

you mentioned rockstar eddie watching her have their babies and still being obsessed ofc, and i’m wondering how janitor eddie would be, esp if she was feeling self conscious

so here's my thoughts on this, because i love janitor!eddie from the bottom of my heart, but... he's a little ball of anxiety and sometimes it makes the situation soooo much worse. like he gets in his own head, and stays in his own head, won't tell you what's going on just starts acting weird, so you think it's you and in reality, he's just in need of prozac lmao.

since oliver was adopted, there was no "down period" ya know? if anything, i think watching you be a mom to him and be sweet to him and kind and loving, it made eddie even fucking more insatiable than before in the most love sicken devoted way.

after you gave birth to olivia, it was different. through the pregnancy, he'd already been a little nervous with you. there's a full blurb about it, where he's nervous to touch you because he doesn't want to hurt you. bless him, there's not a lot out there at the time (early 90s) about having sex and being pregnant lol. so he's just scared. better to stay hands off than hurt you. which in the blurb, doesn't last because once you tell him you want to and it's ok, he's actually feral.

but after olivia, the doctor tells the usual, no sex for this six weeks or it can hurt you. eddie, ofc, asked a million questions about every single thing (turned a thirty minute visit into an hour and a half), but specifically about what could happen, how would you know if you're healed, what did they do to verify that everything was good, was there a test- like a million questions.

six weeks turns into eight, and it's really not too bad because you're both exhausted and literally collapse into each other. but around ten weeks, the routine is becoming more normal, olivia's sleeping through the night, you both feel like you can catch your breath, but eddie's still so distant with sex? like everything else is so good, but if you try to initiate, kiss him a little deeper, make yourself into the little spoon and back your ass up on him, he stills and shuts it down.

by eleven weeks, you're frustrated. by twelve, almost three months, you're hurt. wayne kept the kids for the night, wanted to give you two some alone time and wanted to spend time with his grandbabies, and you think it's perfect. you're about to go back to work, and it seems like a good time to "break the seal" so to say.

you have a dinner at home, he cooked, wined and dined you, is so so soooo fucking sweet and lovey. you're on the couch, watching a movie, but really making out like you used to. you can feel him, feel him getting hard, and when you try to make a move, he starts like panicking. apologizing, and trying to hide it.

"fuck, i-i'm sorry. i don't, just gimme a second, an-and i'll-"

"-so do you just think i'm disgusting now?" tears in your eyes, you're beyond hurt. you'd heard so many stories about men who saw their wives give birth and didn't want to have sex anymore, deemed them gross, but you never in a million years though eddie- your sweet, kind, perfect eddie would be one of them.

eddie is on the brink of an anxiety attack, because ???? why would you think that? you're the prettiest, most beautiful girl in the world to him, and he tells you so.

"then why... why are you not wanting to have sex?" you blubber around your tears. hormones still wild even after, emotional from the hurt too.

"i know you're hard. i can see it." you point to his crotch, his semi still prominent. "so it's me."

"no, no. what? no." eddie thinks he might throw up, head spinning so fast. "it-it's not you-"

"-yes it is! why else wouldn't you want to? it's because i had a baby, and-and you think-"

"-don't." eddie's throat is tight, swallowing his heart. "it's- i- i just- i don't want to hurt you."

"hurt me? you are hurting me. you're hurting my feelings because you won't even touch me."

eddie does nearly throw up, swallows bile and it's like his world is turned up side down. he was so fucking scared, petrified, of having sex with you after and accidentally ripping something. that maybe you weren't healed, that the doctor made a mistake, and he'd fuck you and cause you to like, internally bleed and die or something insane. or that he'd just hurt you, that it would hurt and he'd hear you in pain, and he'd never forgive himself.

you'd just given him everything he ever wanted, made the ultimate sacrifice out of love, and he would not- could not hurt you over that. if he did, he'd genuinely be unable to live with himself.

after he finally just tells you that, instead of being so fucking weird, you calm him down. tell him it doesn't hurt, that you'd let him know if it did.

"just... just use your fingers first. and if it hurts, we can stop and i'll go to the emergency room. i promise. you won't hurt me." you tell him, gently cupping his cheek.

and really, it didn't take much convincing after he finally spilled what had been eating at his mind, once you soothed him. i mean, he had also been in agony. every time you'd take off your top or bend over to pick up a toy, he'd have to run to the bathroom because he was so fucking hard.

it was never unattraction, it was genuinely just his own mind and anxieties and spiraling.

[serxa]

THE PRINCE HAS TO LEARN THE HARD WAY—PART 3—THIRTEEN

PART 1 PART 2

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: It's Telemachus' last day with Y/n. Yet he absolutely failed making his time with her worth.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Telemachus

Sorry if this took SOOO long to post, Wattpad has been bugging recently, and yes, I write in wattpad but post it here. Thank you for all the support:)

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 Telemachus had been working for Y/n's family business. When Y/n's father started to notice that he was finally getting good at pottery, even learning the clay animals thanks to Y/n, he decided he'll let him work for one more day until he sends him off.

But Telemachus doesn't know that today was his last day of work. He happily walked towards the market, with his bag of scrolls and parchment that had all of the sales he had made the past few weeks he has been working for Y/n's family business.

When he met up with Y/n, oh God's how he thought she was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. But Y/n doesn't know anything about Telemachus' feelings. Hell, not even Telemachus knows for himself. He denies it, saying she's just a work colleague... She's a lot oblivious than she really is. "Morning, Tel." Y/n waved at him while he walked over.

He felt a weight on his shoulder suddenly disappear and waved back. "Morning Y/n." He smiled softly and they started walking to the shop to open up. Telemachus choice to work early and to get off the same time Y/n does too, which did make Penelope and Y/n's parents cock an eyebrow at him, but they just agreed.

"Could you open the shutters for me?" Y/n sighed, stretching a bit. She's different from the normal girls here in Ithica. Almost every woman is wearing chitons and doesn't help in shops, yet, Y/n is an amazing person with pottery and sculpting, working at her parents shop, and wearing a tunic and their long sleeve uniforms.

"Yeah, of course." Telemachus murmured before opening the draped and shutters. They started unpacking the stuff, putting them back onto the shelves, tracking what's the hottest deals, counting how many left are in stock and if they need to sculpt. "I'm so.. Tired." Y/n murmured, yawning as she stretched back once again.

"What time did you sleep?" Telemachus asked as he carefully unpacked the glass swan he was holding. "A bit late than usual.." She answered as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her palm. Telemachus smiled softly at the look of her sleepy state. "Need, I don't know, coffee? After unpacking we could get a cup and go back here.." Telemachus offered as he put the storage box away. Y/n thought about the offer and smiled, nodding. "Yeah, sure.." She agreed, as she started to help unpack.

As the two did their own business, Y/n's father appeared and started to have a bit of small talk with them, before he looked over at Telemachus. "Boy, it's your last day, me and your mother agreed on it. We saw that you have been a good help here in the shop, and I think you've paid much more than enough for your debt here." He smiled at Telemachus.

When Telemachus heard her father's statement, he suddenly felt a weight of his shoulders add, his shoulder sagging a bit. When he was finally getting attached to the shop, loving pottery, enjoying waking up early, and being her, oh especially being with her. He glanced over at Y/n who was also staring at him. "O-Oh, uh.." He turned his eyes back to Y/n's father. "Yeah, thank you for letting me know." Telemachus forced a smile.

Once Y/n's father left, ne continued to unpack. "Is there anymore boxes?" He asked Y/n, who was starting to open the drums of clay. "Uhh.." She turned her head to see nothing but empty storage boxes. "None, so.. About that coffee." She smiled at Telemachus, that practically made him weak to the knees and toes.

"Oh, still want to grab a cup?" He smiled, and she immediately nodded, taking her small pouch of money. As they walked through the market, since the coffee grounds and coffee shops were at the very end, Telemachus noticed how weary Y/n was today.

She was limply walking as she counted her money. "Everything alright?" Telemachus asked, putting his hands in his pocket as they walked with a small distance between them. "Yeah, just tired.." She murmured, which Telemachus still didn't believe, but didn't want to push her too much.

He started to lean closer as they continued walking, and Y/n catched on. She hooked her arm around his and rested her head on his shoulder, which made Telemachus feel a sort of giddy inside him, but he quickly shoved it away. 'This is just to help her..' He reminded himself as they reach the small coffee and tea shop.

Y/n took her arm away from Telemachus' and ordered two cups of coffee for them. As they waited Telemachus was whistling, a new skill he actually learned a day ago. "Didn't know you could whistle." Y/n suddenly commented, which made him stop and smile sheepishly. "Yeaaah just.. Learned a new trick."

"New trick? Are you a dog? It's skill." Y/n corrected him. Telemachus was used to Y/n correcting him like this, but there are times where they both act dumb which they ask her parents for help then. "Right, skill." Telemachus nodded and they got their cup of coffee.

They sat on the small tables outside of the standee and started to drink their coffee. "I love their coffee, it a different flavor." Y/n admired the cup of coffee while she kicked her legs from under the table. "It has a zest to it." Telemachus stated as he blew the coffee to cool it down. "I know! That's why I love it." Y/n said happily, her charismatic and energetic side showing again.

"There's that energy." Telemachus raised his eyebrows, smiling at Y/n as he watched Y/n get her energy back. "Well, a good cup of coffee is what a simple person like me needs to get the day started." She said proudly. "Woah woah, too many syllables." Telemachus teased as he raised his hands playfully, making Y/n scoff and chuckle. "I'm sorry that your teeny tiny brain can't comprehend more than 16 syllables in one statement." She retorted with a teasing smirk.

Telemachus sipped his coffee and rolled his eyes playfully. "Hey, I can comprehend! I can comprehend good." He laughed and Y/n couldn't help but laugh also. Once they finishes their cup of coffee, and started walking back to the shop, they saw the other standee's and shops start to open also, restocking, opening shutters, all of that.

When they were back in the shop, up and running, Telemachus was practicing how to mold clay animals as Y/n read a book, both of them waiting for rush hour, where all of the sales pile in. Y/n looked up at Telemachus, watching as his eyebrows knit together as he carefully sculpted the play, wearing their uniforms and his hair tousled. He kept a serious expression, really all his attention on the sculpting clay in his hands, carefully holding it, not squeezing it or anything, just carefully holding it so it would turn out good.

Y/n turned her attention back to her book, shaking her head a bit as to remind herself about what she was reading. After a while, the customers started to pile in, and the two worked diligently with their tasks. Meanwhile, in Telemachus' head, was just one thing. Today was his last day of work. He won't be able to see Y/n unless he goes to the market, but he doesn't want to be obvious also!

He served one customer and once they left, he started to turn a plan in his head, the years turning with a crinking sound with each turn, trying to form a plan on how to spend time with her. It's already twelve in the afternoon, Y/n's parents giving the two food and as they ate, Telemachus was trying to find a reason to continue working here. It's hardest to explain to his mother, Penelope, especially that he doesn't want his mother to know or at least expect he likes someone now.

Does he even like her? He was in a spiral, not even getting his own feelings, how is Y/n able going to comprehend them? He sighed before taking a big bite of food before looking up at Y/n, who was starting to talk about her book. Telemachus smiled softly, humming after every statement, indicating that she was listening to her yapping. "But the author only made this book! It's annoying, only this? Their writing is ethereal!" She rambled, making Telemachus chuckle softly as he watched her grumble over the book.

"Maybe I could read it also once your done.." He murmured. "I mean, sure, you can. Only if I'm done." She smiled and Telemachus nodded in agreement. "Deal?" He raised his hand for a hand shake, which she gladly took. Telemachus couldn't help but think about how soft her hands were, like you just put ten pounds of lotion on their hands, and how warm her hands were.

Y/n on the other hand, couldn't help but think how soft his hand were also. And how bigger they were compared to hers. His hand was skinny and lean also, just like him, but his fingers were long and could easily clasp around her entire hand. Once they pulled away and continued eating, Telemachus could feel his cheeks burn a bit, indicating he was blushing. He quickly got rid of it before Y/n could notice his blush.

"The delas set, you're reading the book after I do and you're going to talk to me all about it!" She giggled, making Telemachus smile, knowing that Y/n also wants to continue talking to him even though he wouldn't be working there anymore. "Mhm." He took another spoonful of food, bringing it up to his mouth and ate it, watching as Y/n did that same. The two were finally starting to warm up to eachother..

Once the clock ticked three in the afternoon, Telemachus knew it was time for his out from work. He hadn't formulated a decent plan that wouldn't get him into too much trouble, so he just decided to let go and stop working, his contract was off and he wasn't sure if they we're even finding a new employee. And gosh, how shy he was to go back here everyday just to spend time with Y/n, its a stupid thing, really. He's just making it look like he likes her...

As he took the boxes from the storage room to unpack all of the vases and animals, he looked over at Y/n. "So how's your last day? Feeling happy that you're finally out of this hell hole?" She smirked as she leaned on the table, watching as he unpacked, placing the work of arts in the boxes for future sellings.

"Actually, I might miss it." He shrugged. "I know I don't get paid, nor I haven't even stayed here for more than 2 months, but I gotten used to how we do stuff around here. And our morning coffees. Lunches with you.. Free time with you. Y'know?" He chuckled awkwardly after realizing that he was rambling about you, wishing you don't catch on and think that he likes you, cause even he wasn't sure if he did. "Huh, really?" She said, propping herself on her palms, her tone dripping with tease.

"Hey, don't tease me now." He chuckled, making her grin. "I apologize, Prince of Ithica." She said softly, knowing she would have to start using that title once again. "Pssh, hearing that from you is a new thing." He chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "What? It's true though." She giggled as Telemachus put the boxes back in the storage room.

"But hearing it form you is new.." He hummed, taking his bag, knowing that this might be their last conversation before he hides himself in his room, too scared to even look at her, knowing his feelings would just drive him into the biggest spiral mess he has ever been in before. Simply just by looking at her, makes him think that he likes you. But he also knows that he doesn't. But knowing that he likes you, also makes him remember he doesn't like you. It's really confusing, for him also.

He just wanted to nestle inside of his room and never look at her ever again. How is he going to ever explain this to her is he decided to confess? Does he need to get his shit and thoughts straight? He doesn't want to hurt her with false hope.. Suddenly, a snap made him shake his head, coming back to reality. "Huh?" He blinked, as he saw a confused Y/n in front of him, still leaning on the table she was leaning to earlier.

"You going home now?" She asked, tapping the table as she had a soft frown on her face. "Oh.. Uh-.. Yeah, I do. I-I am, sorry." He turned pink as he stumbled on his words. Y/n smiled softly and nodded. "Alright, so.. Let's go and close." She said softly taking the keys and her bag. As they closed the shutters and put back the drapes, Y/n suddenly felt a sense of longing. She didn't want to see Telemachus leave yet. Everything was so confusing.

"Uh.. I'll see you... Whenever I see you?" Telemachus said awkwardly, making Y/n's shoulders sag a bit as she realized that Telemachus wasn't planning on seeing her tomorrow. "Ah.. Uh, yeah.. Yeah, see you whenever I see you." She repeated, forcing a soft smile he normally gives him. Telemachus nodded and looked around before his eyes travelled back to you. "Bye.." He murmured.

"Bye."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

After a few days after Telemachus' last day, it was all so boring, no one to hang out with any more, and no more reason to wake up early again.

"It's been a while since you and Y/n have talked. You aren't going out of the house much again." Penelope said as Telemachus was hanging out in his parents room, as Penelope weaved a shroud. Telemachus suddenly froze at the mention of her name.

Y/n, the girl who was messing with his head. He never knew what love felt like. Is it supposed to make your her at ache or make you confused? Is it supposed to be annoyingly stubborn and never leave your head? How he feels about Y/n, gosh he just admits it, he likes her. He likes Y/n. How he misses his mornings, noons and nights with her, how the two talk about their interests and later on find out that you two both like that one topic. He loves how her eyes lights up when she see's him walking towards the market, how she leans on a nearby wall, table or chair as she watches Telemachus work...

How... Pretty she is.

Telemachus cleared his throat and started. "... I just... I just w. Have something in my head about Y/n." He started off, making Penelope curious. "That is..?" She waited as she continued weaving. "... I may or may not be developing big feelings for her, like big big, like big that I want to he with her. As a.. Partner.." He rambled. Making Penelope raise her eyebrows. Seeing Telemachus in love is not normal, he had always been busy protecting his mother from the suitors, being by her side as they longed for Odysseus to get home, so seeing him Inlove, is a crazy scenario.

"It's just.. She's so diligent. So hard working, she could serve up to 10 customers at once and could do pottery and sculpting. Gosh, in a span of short weeks, she managed to teach me how to do pottery... And how pretty she is, her eyes soften when she looks at me, her smile is so perfect with every crease and dimple forming on her cheeks and chin, even the side of her eyes creases when she smiled, her nose scrunching up when she's focused,she's like a rabbit, I swear, she's adorable." He rambled to his mother, covering his face as he groaned in his hands.

Penelope chuckled softly and hummed, looking at his now, lovesick son. "... You know... You could take the risk to be with her.. See if she likes you back." Penelope reassured her son as she counted the strings and skeins of yarn for her shroud. "I just.. I need time. I can turn my face towards her just yet, I need to let my feelings straight. Thanks mother." He sighed, standing up. "It's a good idea for making sure first." She hummed. When she saw Telemachus stand up, she cleared her throat. "Bye now, Telemachus." She smiled softly and he just waved goodbye. "Bye mother."

Fun fact, I wrote the last paragraph half asleep, so I apologize if it sounds nonsense

[livingdreams97]

Jackie Taylor -- "Our Destiny" (Part 1)

Jackie Taylor x Male reader/oc

Summary: What happens when a plane crashes in the middle of the Canadian Wilderness full of teenagers? How something as traumatic as that can affect the people and and how they find comfort in each other.

Words: 6.190

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Masterlist

(For the reader I thought of Wolfgang Novogratz, but everyone can imagine reader how they want.)

_________1996__________

Your POV 

I drop the pieces of firewood I've collected into the pile on the ground and sit down on the stump to rest for a bit. I've spent the last three hours walking between the woods and the cabin collecting firewood non-stop, and I need a break.

From my vantage point, I can see what some of the girls are doing and I sit there for a moment watching them. Things are a bit tense lately, some of the girls are acting a bit weird and especially Lottie.

After what happened at the Seance a few weeks ago, I've noticed that Lottie has been a bit quieter, more withdrawn and distracted, as if she were in her own world.

This worries me a lot, because I don't know if her behavior could be due to the lack of medication or something else. It's the first time since she was diagnosed that she has gone so long without taking her medication and I don't know what the consequences of this could be.

Taissa: Hey.- she greets me standing next to me. -I've been thinking about something and I want to know if you'd like to join me.- she tells me and I focus my gaze on her.

Y/n: Hey.- I greeted back looking at her with curiosity. -Should I be afraid of what you thought?- I asked her with a certain humor.

Taissa: Considering you're scared of bees... - she mocks me with a big smile.

Y/n: I'm not afraid of bees, I'm allergic to them, ALLERGIC and I could die if they sting me. - I reproach her with an offended grimace.

Taissa: Whatever.- she dismisses me with her hand and a smile. - I've been thinking and I realise we should get out of here in search of help or something to eat. It's possible that the animals are migrating or that there's someone out there.- she tells me and I look at her a bit skeptically.

Y/n: I don't know Tai, if there was someone they would have appeared a long time ago from the noise the plane made against the ground.- I comment somewhat unsure.

Taissa: But what if there is someone or a small town far away enough so that they didn't hear the accident? - she tells me with some confidence. - What if there is a small town or a cabin like this one a few days walk away with people who can help us? - she hypothesizes with a small smile.

Y/n: And if there isn't one? - I ask trying to be realistic, since even with her approach the radius that the noise of the accident would had reached, is very extensive.

Taissa: And if there isn't, maybe we can find animals or something to bring back to camp.- she insists with a confident gesture.

Y/n: I don't know Tai.- I deny getting up from the stump. -I can't just get up and leave Lottie here.- I sigh looking towards where the mentioned one is.

Taissa: Lottie is old enough for you to keep an eye on her.- she assures me, crossing her arms.

Y/n: Are you going to tell me that you haven't noticed a differece in her? - I ask her, focusing my attention back on her.

Taissa: Different? More like a little disturbed.- she comments and I look at her badly, making her throw her hands in the air. -Sorry, it was a joke.- she apologizes immediately. -But still, it's not your responsibility.- she assures me placing a hand on my shoulder.

Y/n: She's my twin sister, of course she's my responsibility.- I remind her with a grimace. -I can't just leave her here for I don't know how many days.- I deny letting out a tired sigh.

Taissa: But you're not leaving her because you want to, but because we're going to go find help or food for everyone. This way you're going to help her a lot more than being behind her all day and worrying about everything she does or says. - she assures me with a slight smile and letting her squeeze my shoulder.

Y/n: I'm not sure.- I murmur trying to think of what is the most appropriate thing to do.

Taissa: Give it a tought and tell me.- she tells me in a calm voice.

We both stand in silence for a few seconds, before a commotion comes from the front of the cabin and out of the woods appear Travis and Nat with a dead deer.

Van: Meat, Fuck Yeah! -she exclaims excitedly as she passes by us quickly.

We all immediately approached them, happy that they were able to hunt and that we could eat something other than belt soup.

Van: Wow, that thing is knarly.- she says when both hunters pass by her and she sees the deer's antlers.

Akilah: It's like Freddy Krueger and Bambi had a baby.- she comments with some disgust when they leave the deer on the ground.

Javi: I'm not eating that.-he immediately denies looking at the dead animal.

Ben: Guys, relax.- asks the trainer approaching the deer. -Deer shed their antlers every season. This is normal.- he explains calmly. -Shauna, do the honors?- he asks her, his breathing a little labored from the effort.

Shauna quickly takes the knife out of her backpack, approaches the deer and begins to open its stomach to empty it.

As soon as she opens its stomach, we can all see the worms moving through the deer's organs and I have to look away to avoid throwing up.

Jackie: That's normal too, Coach? - she asks with a disgusted gesture.

Lottie: I'm not crazy.-I hear her mutter in front of me on her knees on the floor.

Laura Lee: No.-she denies in a whisper. -You have a gift.-she assures me and I open my eyes scared at her answer.

Taissa: We cannot keep fucking doing this, you guys.- she assures moving to the side. -What happens when winter gets here? We fucking starve to death or freeze?- she says, upset by the situation. -We can't count on getting rescued anymore. All of us know that is not going to happen, we have to save us.- she says confidently. -That's why I'm gonna go find help. I'm leaving in the morning, come with me if you want to get out of this fucking hellhole. - says as she walks safely into the cabin.

I just stay silent for a few moments, before sighing and walking towards the lake to be alone for a while.

I need to think about what I have to do and it will be impossible to do so near the abaña and the girls. So I walk calmly through the forest, thinking about the pros and cons of going with Taissa or staying with the rest.

Once at the lake, I sit on the shore on the stones and watch the slight movement of the water.

I don't know how long I spend staring at the water, until I hear footsteps behind me and when I look over my shoulder I see Jackie holding a bucket.

Jackie: Hey.- she greets me tiredly, walking towards the shore and filling the bucket with water.

Y/n: Hey.- I greet back watching as she puts the bucket aside and sits next to me. -Do you think Taissa's idea is crazy?- I ask her after a few seconds of silence.

Jackie: I don't know.- she answers with a sigh. -What I do know is that in a certain way she's right and that scares me.- she tells me in a low voice.

Y/n: Is the great captain Jackie Taylor afraid of something? - I asked with humor and receiving a slap on the arm from her.

Jackie: Idiot.- she insults me while laughing and I look at her with a proud smile for making her laugh.

Since the accident, I have noticed that Jackie is the one who is having the most difficulty adapting to the situation and that her mood is increasingly sad.

She is the one who has always been sure that they would come to rescue us and I have realized that with each passing day, that hope of being rescued is disappearing more and more from her eyes.

Y/n: Now seriously, you're afraid that they won't rescue us, right? - I ask her softly.

Jackie: It's been months and still no one has shown up.- she answers me with some apprehension in her voice.

Y/n: That doesn't mean they aren't looking for us.- I tell her to try to cheer her up a little.

Jackie: No, but it doesn't mean they'll find us either.- she whispers, placing her knees against her chest and her chin on them. -We both know that with each day that passes without them finding us, the probability that they'll stop looking for us and leave us for dead increases.- she explains to me with some fear and sadness in her voice.

I sigh with some sadness at her words, because in a way she is right and I don't want to think about it.

I approach the soccer captain, standing just a few inches away from her body and placing my hand on her lower back and moving it in circles to try to comfort her.

She leans into me and places her head on my shoulder relaxing her body against mine.

Y/n: They will find us, I promise.- I whisper against her head, resting my forehead on it. -But I need you to promise me something.- I ask her, swallowing hard.

Jackie: What? - she whispers, getting closer to my body and hugging me around my waist.

Y/n: Promise me that you will take care of Lottie when I'm not here.- I ask her with some fear that the madness I'm doing is permanent.

Jackie: What are you talking about? - she asks me, separating from me and looking at me with concern.

Y/n: I'm going to go with Tai.- I answer and she immediately shakes her head.

Jackie: You can't go, you can't, not you.- she tells me with some panic.

Y/n: I have to do it.- I assure her, looking her in the eyes. -I have to try, Lottie is not well and we can't continue like this much longer. The least I can do is try and seek help.- I explain to her with apprehension about the situation.

Jackie: But what if it doesn't work out? If some wild animal appears, or you guys get lost and can't get back, or any of the thousands of other things that could happen? - she asks me worriedly, waving her hands in an exaggerated manner.

Y/n: Nothing is going to happen.- I assure her, grabbing her hands and trying to calm her down. -The worst that could happen is that we don't find anything and we have to come back empty handed.- I explain to convince her.

Jackie: But what if...- she continues with the possibilities but I interrupt her before she can say anything else.

Y/n: Nothing is going to happen.- I tell her confidently and without taking my gaze off hers.

Jackie: Nothing is going to happen.- she repeats, nodding her head and looking me straight in the eyes.

We stay a few more moments looking into each other's eyes, before she puts her head back on my shoulder and hugs me tightly around the waist.

I put my arms around her shoulders, resting my head on hers and letting the sound of the lake be the only thing that can be heard.

Jackie's POV

It's been two and a half days since Akilah, Van, Taissa, Misty, Y/n and Mari went out in search of something.

As I promised Y/n, I've been keeping an eye on Lottie and talking to her at least a couple of times a day, to see how she's doing.

I try to ask her simple questions, so she doesn't feel like I'm interrogating her and get defensive.

But at most ,she will lose focus during the conversation and stare off into the distance for a few moments before continuing with the conversation like nothing. Which is not entirely worrying.

Plus, she and Laura Lee spend all day together, so it gives me some peace of mind that at least she's not out in the woods alone.

On the other hand, I have discovered that my best friend, the person in whom I had complete trust, has lied to me and betrayed me in the worst possible way.

Our entire friendship based on sincerity and trust has been a farce.

I knew something wasn't right the moment she told me her story with Randy and how she got pregnant.

If what she told me about losing her virginity at Mari's birthday party were to be true, she would have told me as soon as it happened. But she didn't and the biggest lie is that Jeff and I took drunk Randy home that night.

So it couldn't have been after we left and it couldn't have been before either, since Shauna was with me, Jeff and some of her friends all night.

But I didn't know that the reason for her lie and the person she actually slept with was my boyfriend.

My best friend has betrayed me in the worst way possible and has slept with my boyfriend. Also, in her diary are written all the times they did it and it wasn't just once, it was several times.

I don't know how she could do this to me, sleep with my own boyfriend and then get pregnant by him. How could she do this to me. How can she look at me in the eyes and lie in my face with no trace of guilt.

I don't even know how to look at her face without imagining them together, without feeling betrayed and imagining everything else she could have lied to me about.

I quickly get up from my chair when I see Misty, Mari and Akilah appearing through the forest, almost out of breath.

Jackie: Oh, my god. What happened?- I ask them, walking quickly and holding Misty before she fell to the ground.

Shauna: Where are Van, Tai and Y/n? -she asks, also getting up from her chair.

Misty: She...she told...she told us to leave them. We had to get help.-she tells us as best she can between breaths and Nat and Shauna grab her.

Lottie: Where is Y/n?-she asks Mari with a certain panic in her voice.

Laura Lee: Show us which way to go.- she asks her, grabbing her by the shoulders and staring at her.

Misty points to the path they came from and we all quickly set off.

We run quickly, following the instructions and directions given to us by Misty, who is at the head of everyone.

After running for a while, the darkness begins to hide everything around us and we decide that the best thing to do is to walk. So, lighting some lanterns, we walk quickly, looking everywhere.

Shauna: Van! - she shouts from in front of me.

Laura Lee: Taissa!- she shouts loudly from the front of the group.

Lottie: Y/n!- she shouts from behind me with obvious concern.

Laura Lee: Are you sure you came this way? -she asks the one leading us through the darkness.

Misty: I.. I don't know. I can't see anything.- she answers with uncertainty in her voice. -It's so dark.-she says looking around.

We stopped for a few seconds to catch our breath and looked around for something to guide us. It was then that we heard a noise and saw one of the flares rising between the trees.

Laura Lee: It's them.-she points with her finger and we quickly start running in that direction.

We run for a couple of minutes between the trees, immediately spotting the three of them on their knees on the ground and looking very bad.

Lottie: Y/n!- she exclaims, running towards her brother and kneeling next to him on the ground.

When we get closer we can see why the urgency, as Van has her face covered with rags and we can see the blood on her clothes. As can the pale color on Taissa and Y/n's faces.

We set off immediately, with most of the girls carrying Van, Misty and Laura Lee helping Tai, and Lotti and I carrying her brother.

As I help him up from the floor, I place a hand on his side and feel something cold and wet against my palm.

I raise my hand to my face, feeling my heart racing in my ears and my throat feeling dry as I swallow. I open my eyes, startled, when I make out the reddish color of blood in the light from the lanterns.

Jackie: Y/n.- I murmur scared seeing the boy's pale and sweaty face.

Misty: We have to get them there as soon as possible so we can stitch up their wounds.- she says hurriedly, encouraging us to walk as quickly as possible to the cabin.

So as quickly as possible, we managed to get to the cabin in record time and the girls got going.

Misty: Who goes first? - she asks as they clear the table, place candles around it, and Akilah searches for the materials.

Y/n: Van has to go first.- he answers in a low voice. -She is worse than me, I can hold on.- he assures the group with a small grimace.

Shauna: Van, are you ready? - she asks as they lay her down on the candlelit table.

The redhead lets out a grunt of pain, as Lottie and I place Y/n into one of the chairs.

Misty: We have to take off his clothes from the waist up. - She approaches us and reaches out her hands to do it.

Jackie: No.- I stop her immediately. -Lottie and I will do it.- I assure her, standing in front of her so she doesn't come any closer.

Misty: With the shirt you will have to press the wound to stop it from bleeding further.- she explains to me and I nod knowing what I have to do.

I turn towards the injured boy, approaching with uncertain steps and observing him in more detail thanks to the light from the cabin.

The black haired man, his green eyes are half-closed due to tiredness, has lost all the color in his face, you can see the sweat soaking his face and the locks of hair that are normally pushed back are stuck to his forehead.

On the other hand, the blue t-shirt and the grey sweatshirt are covered in dirt and blood, as are his jeans.

I quickly approach him, aware that he is not in a very good condition and that every minute is worth gold.

Lottie: You're going to be okay.- she whispers, stroking his hair. -Nothing's going to happen to you, It won't let anything happen to you.- she assures him with conviction and I look at her a little scared by the tone in which she is saying it.

Jackie: Lottie, help me take off his clothes.- I ask my teammate in a hurry.

Y/n: Damm Jackie, I knew you had the hots for me. - he scoffs with sense of humor, letting out a grunt when we move him to take off his sweatshirt.

Jackie: In your dreams.- I tell him with a slight smile, to try to ease the tension and play along.

When we managed to remove his shirt, you can see the wound on his side and it doesn't look good at all.

You can see the wolf's teeth and the cuts they left behind. There are at least five long cuts and about seven fairly large perforations on the side of his stomach and back.

You can see the blood gushing from the wounds and I have to hold back my gagging at the image.

Jackie: This is going to hurt.- I whispered softly, before placing his shirt over the wounds and pressing with both hands to stop the bleeding.

Y/n: Fuck.- he grunts in pain trying to get away from my hands.

Jackie: Lottie hold him.- I ask her, making her grab him by the shoulders and hold him still.

I press my hands against the wounds again and this time thanks to Lottie, Y/n doesn't get away from my hands no matter how hard he tries.

But Lottie's strength is affected when Akilah starts stitching Van up and she starts to let out pain-filled grunts.

The brunette immediately sits on the floor, placing her knees against her chest and covering her ears with the palms of her hands.

Y/n: Lot, don't listen.- he growls trying to get his sister's attention. -Lot, look at me.- he stretches his hands towards her with great effort. -Charlotte Matthews look at me right now.- he orders her and she surprisingly does it. -Come closer.- he asks her with a sigh.

Lottie walks over to her brother and he immediately pulls her close to his body. As I apply pressure to his wound, I can hear him whispering things to his sister to reassure her and distract her from what's happening on the other side of the room.

But after a few moments, I stop hearing the whispers from Y/n and I look at his closed eyes.

Jackie: Shit! - I exclaimed scared, stopping pressing on the wound and grabbing his cheeks. -Y/n, wake up. Keep your eyes open, wake up! - I exclaimed hitting him on the cheek trying to get him to react but nothing.

Lottie: Y/n.- she whispers, separating herself from her brother's thigh and looking at him scared. -It's not your turn.- she murmurs confused, placing her hand on her brother's bare chest.

Jackie: Girls hurry up, Y/n has lost consciousness! - I shout for them to hear me, without stopping hitting the boy's cheeks and trying to wake him up.

Natalie: Don't fuck with me.- she growls when she reaches us and takes his pulse. -Does anyone else know how to sew?- she asks the girls with some panic.

Misty: Me! - she exclaims quickly raising her hand.

I look at Nat, a little unsure and worried that Misty will stitch up Y/n's wound and I can see that she feels the same as me.

Natalie: We have no choice.- she murmurs, looking at me with apprehension. -Misty, grab a needle and thread quickly. We'll put him on the floor.- she says, grabbing him by one of his arms.

I do the same and with Lottie's help we get him on the ground as quickly as possible.

Misty: I have everything.- she tells us, throwing herself on her knees beside us. -I need more light.- she tells us while she begins to put the thread on the curved needle for fishing.

Nat: I'm going to get more candles.- she says getting up and I do the same with her.

We both grab some candles and run back to where Y/n, Lottie and Misty are. We place the candles on the ground near the wound, lighting them so Misty can see what she's stitching.

I swallow hard, feeling my hands shake from fear and worry that Y/n will die.

I move to the other side of Misty, kneeling at his hip and grabbing his hand. I bring the hand to my chest, praying that Misty will stitch him up quickly so that the bleeding stops and he can survive.

Your POV

I pull the chair over next to Jackie's and sit down a bit carefully, trying not to let the stitches pull too hard. But I can't help but let out a little grunt as I lean forward and take my share of the bear meat.

Jackie: Are you okay? - she asks me in a whisper, placing her hand on my thigh and leaving a light squeeze there.

Y/n: Yeah, I just moved too fast.- I play it down with a smile and she returns it.

She also leans forward and receives her plate with her ration from the redhead, while the others talk about whether we should wait for Nat and Travis or not.

Van: Lottie, last night you said we wouldn't be hungry much longer. How did you know? -she asks my sister and I feel my body tense immediately.

Everything that happened last night was absolutely crazy and I don't know what the hell went through their heads to make them act the way they did.

Because the mushroom excuse doesn't work for me, since we're all supposed to have eaten them and not all of us tried to sacrifice Travis. Especially not with the way my own sister, Shauna, and Mari jumped on me when I came down from the attic with Jackie, before Travis showed up completely out of it and they jumped on him immediately.

Lottie: I just did.-she answers, chewing what she has in her mouth.

Y/n: She didn't know anything, it was pure coincidence, okay? - I say seriously and avoiding looking at my sister at all costs.

Jackie: Yeah, it's called getting lucky.- she supports me, giving my thigh another squeeze. - The bear probably just smelled us and came looking for food, okay? Probably had something wrong with him. - she says in a logical way to take a bite of her meat.

Misty: It didn't look sick.-she denies sitting to my right.

Mari: Honestly, at this point I don't even think I care.- she says sitting at the table. -Can we just eat?- she asks, wanting to leave the subject aside.

Van: Wait.- she asks, drawing everyone's attention. -Should we maybe... say something? Like... like thanks or grace or.. whatever- she asks, somewhat unsure.

The dining room falls completely silent for a few moments, during which no one knows what to say or how to act in response to the question.

Taissa: Yeah.-she nods, leaving her glass on the table. -Just make it quick.-she asks her girlfriend and I can't help the frustrated grunt that escapes me.

Van: Lot?- she asks my sister and I can only roll my eyes and continue eating.

Lottie: Sure, let's join our hands.-she says leaving her ration aside and shaking hands with the trainer and Shauna.

From my peripheral vision, I see a hand approaching from my right, so I look up from my plate and see Misty holding out her hand to me.

I just stare at her for a few seconds, alternating my gaze between her eyes and her hand, before shaking my head and turning my head towards Jackie, seeing that she thinks the same as me.

Lottie: For this gift from the wilderness, we give our thanks.-she begins to say and my right knee begins to bounce from the tension.

Van: Thank you.- she says to my sister's words, urging her to continue.

Lottie: To the spirit of the bear, who sacrificed so that we could survive, we give our thanks.-she says and they all give thanks. -And to the ancient gods of the sky and the dirt, we give our thanks.-it continues and everyone thanks again.

Misty: You two didn't say it.-she whispers looking at the girl to my left and me. -Jackie and Y/n didn't say it.- she accuses us loudly so that everyone present knows.

Y/n: The fuck is your problem?-I asked the curly-haired blonde with a murderous look.

Jackie: No, I didn't thank the dirt for bringing us a brain-dead bear. What is even happening right now? -she asks, impressed by the group's attitude. -The fuck is wrong with you all?- she asks the girls, leaning forward.

Taissa: It's fine, you guys. They don't have to... -she comes to our defense but the team captain interrupts her.

Jackie: Oh, shut up Tai.- she scoffs at her. -Don't pretend like you weren't a part of it. What, we're... we're just not going to talk about it? - she asks everyone present. -We just howl at the moon now and have fucking orgies or support incest?- she says and I tense up even more at the last thing she said. -And somehow we are the ones who did something wrong? -She shrugs her shoulders, angry at the whole situation.

Ben: Whoa, wait, what?- he asks completely surprised by what he just heard.

Shauna: Jackie, calm down.-she asks her best friend, but I can see that this only makes her angrier.

Jackie: Don't tell me to calm down!-she exclaims angrily, getting up from her chair. - What were you gonna do to Travis last night, Sahuna? - she asks, approaching her and crossing her arms. -Answer me.-she asks after a few seconds of silence.

Shauna: I don't know. I don't remember. -she answers with some uncertainty, her gaze fixed on the ground.

Jackie: Bullshit.-she reproaches, not believing what she has just heard. -You had a knife to his throat. If we hadn't come, you would have killed him.- she accuses her with total honesty.

Shauna: Just shut up!-she exclaims angrily, getting up from her seat. -None of this would have happened if it wasn't for you. If you hadn't...-she accuses quickly, approaching her without finishing the sentence.

Jackie: Hadn't what? Huh?-she asks without reacting to his proximity. -Stolen him? Wow. The irony.- she scoffs again. -Shauna was fucking Jeff behind my back, you know that?- she asks and I open my eyes in surprise. -Yeah. That's who's really responsible for her little bundle of joy.-she tells everyone present and I stare at her, worried about her.

Shauna: It was you.-she accuses her with a certain hurt tone. -You read my journal.-she explains without taking her eyes off the one who was her best friend.

Jackie: How could you? - she accuses her with pain in her voice. -You were my best friend. You.. you.. you don't even like him.-she says in a hurt face.

Shauna : And how would you know? - she asks her angrily with a broken voice. -You're so obsessed with yourself, I'm surprised I'm aware other people even exist.-she reproaches this time with some malice.

Y/n: Girls, I think it's best to stop now.- I say, getting up and leaving the empty plate aside.

Shauna: You know you never even asked me if I wanted to go to Rutgers? You just assumed I would go wherever you wanted.-She reproaches her with more and more annoyance in her voice. -You tell me what to wear, what to do, who to hook up with. I don't even like soccer!-shouts the last part. -But you just get everything you want. All the time like it's nothing. And the rest of us, we are just extras in the movie of your fucking life.- she accuses her angrily and with some pain in her tone.

Jackie: Oh, my God. You are such a cliché.- she exclaims, hurt and upset by what she just said. -Oh, is the.. is the sad little sidekick mad?- she asks with a certain sarcasm. -Did I force you to live in my shadow, Shauna? It must be hard being this jealous all the time.-she says, earning a short laugh in response.

Y/n: Girls, seriously, stop.- I ask them taking a couple of steps towards them, but a hand on my sweatshirt stops me. -What are you doing?- I ask Van confused and she shakes her head.

Jackie: What? You're so fucking jealous of me, you can barely breathe.-she reproaches Shipman, hurt and angry with her.

Shauna: Are you quoting Beaches at me right now? - she asks with a gesture of confusion.

Jackie: What? No.-she denies, confused by the question.

Shauna: I'm not jealous of you, Jackie. I fell sorry for you. Because you're weak and I think that deep down, you know it. - she says taking a few steps towards her. -I'm sure everyone back home is so fucking sad to be losing their perfect little princess, but they will never know how tragic and boring and insecure you really are.- she continues without measuring her words. -Or how high school was the best your life was ever going to get.-she finishes saying in a somewhat aggressive way and I can see the damage those words are doing to Jax.

Jackie: Fuck you.-she says with a slightly broken voice. -That's it. You know what? That's it. Get.. get out.-she orders pointing to the cabin door.

Y/n: Jax, stop.-I ask her, trying to get closer, but the redhead keeps holding me by the clothes and preventing me from doing so.

Jackie: Go on, get out.-she repeats with a little more force.

Shauna: No.- she shakes her head, her eyes wide.

Jackie: I can't be around you, I... I can't even fucking look at you right now.- She says completely hurt.

Shauna: Well, that sounds like your problem. So maybe you should leave.-she ignores the order and stands in her place while maintaining eye contact.

Everyone remains completely silent for a few seconds, processing the words of the two friends and the situation that is happening at this moment.

Mari: Maybe you would be better off, since we're all so crazy.-she reproaches the captain, supporting Shauna.

Ben: Okay, everybody just stop. Nobody is going outside.-he orders us all seriously.

Lottie: Stay out of it, Coach.-she tells him with a murderous look.

Y/n: No, you stay out of it. You already did enough last night.-I say to my twin, giving her a dirty look, angry and fed up with her attitude.

Jackie: You know what? Fine.-she says walking towards the sleeping things and grabbing her blanket and pillow.

Taissa: Jackie, come on. Don't go outside.-she asks her friend, somewhat tired.

Jackie: Don't pretend like this isn't what you wanted the entire fucking time.- she responds with obvious anger.

Y/n: Don't be silly, Jax.- I ask her, releasing myself from Van's grip and walking towards her. -The temperatures are dropping and sleeping outside is dangerous.- I assure her, worried about her.

Jackie: I don't care, I'm not going to be where I'm not wanted and clearly this isn't it.- she denies looking me in the eyes. -I don't even know who you are anymore.-she says to the one who was her best friend.

Shauna: Or maybe you never did.-she assures her and that is all she needs to leave the cabin and slam the door.

The room is tensely silent for a few moments, until I hear a murmur and explode.

Y/n: What the hell is wrong with you two? - I ask completely angry. - We are all here together, for better and for worse, and no one has more right than anyone to be in the cabin. - I comment looking at the pregnant girl. - And let me tell you that as a friend, you leave a lot to desire. Not only have you betrayed your best friend, but you have dumped all your frustration on her and used her insecurities against her to hurt her. What kind of best friend does that? - I ask her completely impressed by her evilness.

Shauna: You don't know anything.- she claims, directing her anger towards me.

Y/n: And I don't need to know.- I deny between my teeth. -With what I just saw, it seems more than enough to know what kind of person you are and believe me, you are not the type I want by my side in a situation like the one we are in.- I finish looking at her with repulsion, before grabbing two blankets and a pillow to leave the cabin.

Lottie: You can't go out.- she forbids me, standing in front of the door so I can't open it.

Y/n: Charlotte, get out of the way right now.- I ordered her, annoyed by her attitude.

Lottie: No.- she denies strongly and crosses her arms.

Y/n: You move or I move you. But I'm not staying here with you two. - I assure her, looking at her with my eyes half closed.

Lottie: No.- she repeats in a slower manner, but with the same authoritative tone of voice.

Y/n: You asked for it.- I remind her grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to the side, trying not to use too much force to hurt her, but enough to move her.

Once I push her away from the door, I open it and walk outside, slamming the door behind me.

At the sound of the door, Jackie turns her head towards me at the noise and frowns when she sees me.

I just walk towards her, dropping the things in my arms to the ground and sitting on the wooden log carefully.

Jackie: What are you doing? - she asks me in a low and broken voice without taking her eyes off me.

Y/n: Keeping you company.- I answer shrugging my shoulders. -You're crazy if you think I'm going to leave you here alone and stay in there with them.- I explain looking at her as if she were crazy, causing a small laugh from her at my gesture.

Jackie: Thank you.- she whispers looking at her hands.

Y/n: You don't have to thank me for anything.- I assure her with an amused grimace.

I put one of my arms over her shoulders, pulling her close to my body. I place a kiss on her forehead, feeling her snuggle up against my chest and hug my waist tightly, but careful of my wounds.

She looks up at me, placing a hand on the back on my neck and pulling at It to join our lips in a soft kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes shine full off life ande a small smile appears in her face.

We just sit together outside watching the sun disappear and observing the flames of the fire move in the darkness of the forest night.

[forestdeath1]

Prongsfoot microfic. Hope.

WC ≈ 1700. TW: swearing, internalised homophobia, underage drinking

"I love you, Sirius," James, looking rather sloshed, mumbles as he tries to wrap his arms around Sirius's neck. "Do you… love me?" His ability to talk properly is definitely falling apart.

"Of course I do. Everyone does" Sirius answers calmly, trying to keep James from falling to the floor.

Gryffindor had a Quidditch victory party after beating the shit out of Slytherin. At some point at the height of merriment, James and Peter decided to see who could drink more firewhiskey straight from the bottle. It was a pretty bad idea, Sirius knew that, but he didn't stop any of them from their teenage urge to explore all facets of bad decisions.

When the party came to an end and all their friends scattered to the dorms, James asked Sirius to stay with him for a little longer to have one more dram of whiskey, just making idle chitchat. Sirius shrugged uncertainly, thinking about the ability of James to drink more, but he looked sober (not really) enough, and… well, one more round of whiskey never killed anybody, did it?

That was a mistake, because James wanted one more. Then he asked Sirius for a drag – for the first time in his life – and then felt bad, and then poured himself another glass of whiskey justifying it with a need to rinse the awful taste of a fag from his mouth. Until Sirius finally took the last bottle away, and with a distinct sternness in his voice, said James had had enough. James didn't even try to argue, he just looked at Sirius and said:

"I love you, Sirius. Do you… love me?"

"Of course I do. Everyone does"

James chuckles and tightens his grip around Sirius's neck more.

"Come on, James, let's get you to bed. You need sleep. Trust me, mate, otherwise, tomorrow, I'm afraid you'll curse all of us out of pure hatred toward any form of life"

James apparently has nothing more to say, he just stares at Sirius with that deer look on his face and smiles – either gently or absentmindedly, hard to tell.

As soon as they're in their dorm, Sirius gets James into his bed. After a quick freshening up in the bathroom, Sirius climbs into his own, enjoying the cool sheets after this bloody long day with no extraneous thoughts. Not even about James confessing his love. Nothing strange about it, really, it happens every time James gets drunk. So Sirius is used to it. He knows there's nothing to overthink – it's just James's usual pissed charming self.

James has told Remus he loves him many times in this sloshed state. He's said it to Peter too. And everyone in this bloody castle knows that James is hopelessly in love with Lily. Unreciprocated, but still.

So there is definitely nothing to think about.

Nothing at all.

Sirius is about to fall asleep as he feels someone opening his bed curtains and trying to crawl in.

"James?"

"Mhm. It's boring there. Do you mind if I…"

"Fuck, James, we're not 15 anymore, and there is no space–"

"Thanks," James interrupts without any hesitation and comfortably nestles in beside Sirius.

"The pleasure is all mine", Sirius mutters, a hint of accepting fate and sarcasm in his voice.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Can't say the same for me."

James props himself up on his elbows and looks at Sirius, a mild grin on his face. Sirius arches an eyebrow, waiting for James to say something, but he just keeps staring at him in that strange way. Sirius feels his chest tighten at that closeness of his best friend.

He should be used to this by now, the same way he's used to James's drunken nonsense talking. But he hasn't manage. And Sirius is afraid he never will.

"You know what, Padfoot?" murmurs James in a soft voice

"Enlighten me."

"You didn't answer my question"

"Sorry?"

"I asked you if you love me"

"And I said–"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. I'm drunk, not a mindless idiot. But that wasn't an answer. That was bullshit"

"Well, James, if you don't like my answers, you can peacefully fuck off"

James grins, but even in the dark Sirius can see the softness in his eyes. James reaches out to brush a lock of hair from Sirius's face. A tingling sensation spread through Sirius's body.

Fuck. Why is it always like this?

"I just wanna know if you love me the way I love you"

Silence falls between them.

James probably has no fucking idea how painful this is for Sirius – the endless love confessions, even if they're just friendly. The way he's always around, too close, too suffocating. The way he so damn casually demands answers from Sirius, completely oblivious to how much it all actually matters to him. Sirius is abso-fucking-lutely sure James has no clue just how important it really is.

James asks Sirius to say something he simply can't say. He can't. And he doesn't want to. Because there is no point in that. Because it's terrifying. Even dangerous. There's love that's fated to die inside of you, and that's the bitter poetry of life that Sirius accepted from the very first moment he realised his feelings for his best friend.

But when James is this close – when Sirius can smell moss, whiskey, and sweat, when James touches him, presses against him, so easily, so gently – for a brief moment it feels like there's something more. Something deeply mutual. Something beyond friendship.

Damn, what a load of sappy rubbish. Sirius shouldn't think like that. Just shouldn't.

"Sirius. Do you love me the way I love you?" James insists. The smug grin has faded from his face giving way to a drowsy, drunken, but stubborn stare.

James won't remember a damn thing anyway. Not after all that alcohol.

And Sirius? He could never lie to James.

(Or is this just a wretched attempt to absolve himself of the sin of a reckless confession?)

"I love you more than you can imagine, James" Sirius mutters as if ashamed of saying it aloud.

Fuck, that sounded pathetic.

But James just flashes that stupid, broad grin again. Of course he does. This drunk animal got exactly what he wanted — validation — without the faintest clue what Sirius’s words really meant.

It's for the best though. This is how it should be – James shouldn't have a single doubt about…

Sirius barely registers when James's lips find his. He doesn’t know how he ends up kissing him back, how his body just reacts on instinct. He doesn't realise when James's fingers tangle into his hair.

How long does it last? 5 seconds? Ten?

Sirius gently pushes James away. Soft but firm.

"James, no"

"Why?"

Why?

Because Sirius knows it's better not to let drunk people make important decisions – and kissing your best friend, who, by some cruel joke of fate, happens to be a guy, is definitely and important decision. One James might seriously regret.

Because James is completely wasted. Because he just wants to kiss anybody.

Because it's not about Sirius at all – he's just convenient for James's drunken lust.

Because if Sirius really succumbs to this temptation, if he lets this happen, and James remembers, it will ruin everything.

Not to mention Sirius thinks it's completely unfair to kiss someone who can't fully comprehend what the fuck they're doing.

And what then? Awkward pauses. Stolen glances. And a friendship that crumbles.

Sirius can't sacrifice James-the-friend-for-life just to get James-the-lover-for-a-minute, no matter how badly he wants to.

Because it's not right. It's not fair. It shouldn't be this way. And it never will be.

"Because I don't want to," Sirius lies. He has to. It's the only thing that will stop James now – a clear rejection.

"You don't believe me, do you?" A barely concealed disappointment in James's voice. "That I love you – you don't believe me"

"James, stop it"

"I love you"

Fuck, that hurts. Sirius thought he was used to James's confessions, but after everything that just happened, it stings all over again. Once more, that ugly miserable hope claws its way back into his chest – the hope that James actually means it. Not that Sirius doesn't cherish James's love as a friend. He does, more than anything. But a longing heart always wants more. And he thought he'd put all that behind him. He really did.

Merlin, his mother was right – Sirius really is pathetic.

He really fucking is.

"Say that when you're sober, ok?"

"And will you let me kiss you then?"James smirks, leaning in closer.

"Fuck off, James. For Merlin's sake," Sirius snaps, shoving him away. He turns away, forcing himself not to break. Maybe he just should to move to James's bed since James is so fucking glued to his.

An awkward ringing silence stretches between them.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," James mutters, a slight guilt lacing his voice. "I really am. I didn't think you'd react like this… I thought it'd be fun"

"Nothing to apologise for"

"Still, I am sorry. And…" James pauses as if he's trying to find the right words. "Look, don't think that I'm… you know… like that…"

This hits straight to the chest.

"Like what?" Sirius immediately turns around to face James again. He stares at him, arching a brow – waiting, maybe even daring.

"I'm not gay," James blurts embarrassed. If not for the darkness, Sirius could swear that James was red to the tips of his ears.

"You think that's the problem? That I might think you're gay?" Sirius asks, his voice laced with dry amusement, just enough bite to be cruel.

"Uhm.. yeah? That's why you're pissed, right? You thought I was hitting on you, and–"

"Holy fuck, James. You're such a fucking idiot" Sirius cuts him off. "Get the fuck off my bed. Right now."

"Pads–"

"Now, James. Or I'll throw you off myself. And trust me, that will fucking hurt."

"Alright, alright"James raises his hands in surrender and slides off the bed. "Listen, mate, I swear, I didn't mean–"

"Sleep it off, and we'll talk tomorrow." Sirius doesn't let James finish his stupid justifications. "If you even remember anything," and then he yanks the curtains shut just in James's stupid, drunk face.

[heretyc]

I beg for Prime Assets comforting you after getting shots or a doctor's appointment, or anything similar.., I just had an appointment recently and twas very frazzled by getting jabbed so many times cause I'm scared of needles 😔 though I'm obsessed with your writing I've been stalking your page... thank you in advance if you accept this request 💜

I'm so sorry you got jabbed, hun :( needles are not fun. If only vaccinations were in pill/liquid form...we need to bring bubblegum flavoured medicine back </3

"Oh, hush now," Coyle clicked his tongue as he roughly rubbed your arm in comfort; the cutesy bandage on your arm was almost rubbed off due to his strength, his palm warm. "You know I can't just...you know..." He removed his hand to finger quote, "'Fuck that needle wielder up with my prod'. You want to get in trouble?"

"Yeah," you sniffled, "Fuck her, man."

"Lord, what'd I do to end up with you?" Coyle snickered, an arm being wrapped around you tightly. "Didn't Barlow give you the fuckin' shots?"

"SO?"

"You like Barlow, I thought?"

You huffed. "Not anymore."

Coyle snorted, looking back in Barlow's direction. "Ya heard that?"

Looking up from her romance novel, Barlow's eyes were lidded in boredom, as if she didn't just stick a plethora of needles into your poor arm, "Pardon?"

"...I'll shoot 'er."

"Barbi," you warned, your brows furrowed, "No. She was doing her job...as painful as that job was."

Barbi scoffed, Lupara shaky in his grip, "Her job isn't to fuckin' prod ya with needles, sweetness. The fuck were they for, anyway?"

"Tetanus, measles, diptheria...the usual."

"Diptheria?" He raised a brow, "The fuck is that?"

"A disease that I could die from if I didn't get the vaccination," you rolled your eyes, "I hate needles and I appreciate the comfort, but don't make this harder on yourself."

"Baby, I've been to about 10 fuckin' countries sealing deals and spreading my business, I ain't never get a disease like diptheria."

"That's because you ate dirt, Barbi."

"...For your information, it was fuckin' mud pie. And that shit was divine."

"Okay, dirt eater." You snickered, your arm - the one that lacked post-needle pain - raised to grab Lupara. "Lemme occupy my mind with Lupara, please."

"You gonna shoot Bar-hoe?"

You scoffed, "No, Barbi."

"Then no." He stuck out his tongue. Silly bastard.

"Ohh, my poor dear," Gooseberry's voice was gentle as her gloved hand rubbed against your arm, "Those nice doctors are just protecting you against the measles..."

"Fuckin' myth of a disease anyway," The goose chortled in the background, "I ain't neva gots measles, or tetanus, or whoopy cough."

"Whooping cough, Dr. Daddy," Gooseberry corrected to the goose's dismay, "Anyway, just relax and let me care for you, okay, dear?" She cooed, pinching your cheek. "I have just the thing."

"A pat on the back and a 'get the fucks over it'?" Futterman snorted, resulting in Gooseberry to narrow her eyes. "No. I was thinking more of a...ride on the Root Canal."

"...Fuck it, why not?" Futterman grumbled, "Whats are we waiting fors?"

"Uhhh, my arm is sore as shit, Futterman," you got up, "Don't expect a round of applause."

"Well jokes on me, then," The goose scoffed, his drill sounding in irritation. "Do all needles make you this irritables?"

"What am I to do with the two of you?" Gooseberry chuckled, her free hand on your lower back as she guided you to the large ride.

[chiaraforfun]

I think they both make fair points actually, because what @elenasalvatore1 is referred to what happened once they where together, and @jilyydoe to both before and during.

I've always been a big fan of Hinny, and I find this extremely true analysis a bit unsettling, lmao. However, I would like to clarify 3 points that are very subjective.

The first is that yes, Harry and Ginny probably wouldn’t have stayed together forever instead of what Rowling later decided, because they were likely together for insufficient reasons. At the same time, I don’t see Harry with Hermione as a good match (I could easily write a fanfic about it because it would work well as a romance, just to be clear). I don’t know if it’s because they literally grew up together, and I can’t fully support those couples who date young and end up marrying, but I never saw them as "in love".

They had a beautiful friendship, that's it.

However, it's also true that I love Romione, which goes against that last thought, BUT there has always been that... I don’t know... distance? The friendship that Hermione and Harry shared is not the same as that between Hermione and Ron. You could almost feel that tension from the start. So, I guess it makes less sense to me.

Point two: Ginny in the books is very different from the films, where they made her too flat, and while it may be true that the premises of their relationship were somewhat toxic (okay, maybe a bit more than somewhat), them being together makes sense. I reiterate, not forever, because I believe they would inevitably break up sooner or later, but in the books, it makes sense, and she is fantastic. I mean, she is mean to Fleur behind her back, but so is the rest of them beside a few if I remember properly. It's not an excuse but I think I remember Ginny and Hermione both making fun with Mrs Weasley.

She makes fun of Ron but let's be realistic, I did the same with my brother and he did the same with me. I'm not proud and growing up we changed but let's not forget she's still young!

All the dynamics makes sense if you think of her age.

We are so used to see the golden trio as "older" because of what they fight but in truth they are not.

So I guess I do give her a bit of an excuse for her behaviour. Also because she was funny, I'm sorry.

And then, as @jilyydoe pointed out, Harry's last thought before dying was about her so—why not!

Point three: for once, we’re not reading about the extremely predictable relationship between the protagonist and another main character. I mean, come on, let’s break away a bit. I love f/m friendship!

True friends, not romanticised.

Point 4 (that I forgot about): I really don't think that Ginny loves because of his popularity.

Surely that’s the reason she had a crush on him in the first year, but I don’t think that’s the reason she fell in love with him. I believe the story of the younger sister falling in love with her older brother's friend is an old classic, but there’s a deeper reason behind it. And it's the same thing here, among many reasons, right? I mean, Harry was constantly with Ron, he spent a lot of time with the rest of the brothers, and it often happened that he was at the Weasley house. In my opinion, she started to fall in love with him precisely by spending time together, gradually more and more, especially since at the beginning she was a bit pushed aside by her brother, lol. Then, indeed, she tried to have her own experiences and well, we all know how it went from there, toxic dynamics included.

But, I don’t think she fell in love with him for popularity. That, I would say, was just the spark that ignited everything else

I get all your other points and yess it's ruined a bit my idea, I won't idolise their relationship anymore (😭 ), and I get it, it's not that perfect, but maybe that's why I like Hinny so much; it’s unpredictable. It’s a couple that means nothing from a distance, but for them, it’s everything.

I don’t know, it makes sense to me, and I apologize for not being able to explain myself better. English is not my native language, and unfortunately, I don’t know how else to convey these concepts.

P.S.: The thing that makes me cringe a little about Hinny, I have to admit, is that it gives me a bit of a “mommy issues” vibe because of the hair, lmao.

Ya'll really gonna come in here and tell me you love Harry Potter but you hate Hinny.

You're going to tell me to my face that you love Harry James Potter, a man who has been through so much. Lost his whole entire family., and you're going to deny him his greatest source of comfort.

Are you actually going to tell me that you think ferret face or someone who Harry has described as a sister to him is a better fit for him than someone who makes him happier than he can ever remember being.

He was willing to die happily just thinking about her kissing him. Literally his last dying thought but you're gonna come here and tell me that you hate true love.

Please.

[apollabarnes]

that was us part three

quick author's note: originally i wrote this series to coincide only with abby's appearances, so i didn't try and cover the time between abby leaving los angeles and coming back during the train derailment — however, since i've continued writing this series i've realized that what i orginally wrote had a lot of backstory that only existed in my head, but that was very much flavouring the rest of the story. i didn't write the tommy and abby interactions at the hospital as the first time they'd talked since he moved to harbor but all of that backstory stayed off the page. this is part of me trying to correct that, and i'm editing parts one and two to cover more of it. also, i know the hospital is originally part three, but this is sneaking in between chapter two and three (i'll update it on ao3 when i'm at my actual computer and not sneaking onto tumblr during work hours)

a tag for @leashybebes who asked to be tagged if i wrote any more of this!

abby's mom dies and she falls apart. she barely makes it through the funeral, buck holds her together while she's sorting through all of her mom's things and it's just. suffocating. her mom's passport is the last straw — how many things did she put off, thinking there would be more time before she got her diagnosis? how many things has abby put off? she loves being a dispatcher. she loves la. buck is the best thing that's happened to her in close to a decade. there were so many things she was planning to do before she tore her rotator cuff. then it was rehab, trying swimming again, quitting again — pushing off all things she'd thought about doing since she was a kid. tommy had helped with that, given her somewhere safe to recover while she licked her wounds, and still she'd put things off. put them aside and shoved them down and promised herself later, later, later. it's later and she still hasn't done even one of the things she wanted to do when she was younger.

she's going to start with her mom's old travel itinerary. abby packs a bag, buys an airline ticket, tells buck she's leaving. the thought of trying to sublet her apartment or sell it is just too much to deal with right now, so she offers him the apartment because he hates living with his roommates and she's certainly not going to be using it. she tries to be as gentle as she can. abby was stuck for a really long time and buck's the one that got her unstuck. it's a gift she's a hundred percent certain he has no idea he gave her, and she doesn't have the words to thank him for it, so she's gentle instead. buck deserves gentle. he deserves better than her, but she doesn't say that either. he wouldn't take it as the compliment she means it as.

it's a cliché to say that she can feel her heart break when he drops her off at the airport, but clichés become clichés because they're things that are true and universal.

abby sits in the airport lounge and waits for her flight to be called. she very quickly gets bored and pulls out her phone, staring at it. if she texts buck now she'll just turn around, let herself get stuck again. she'd like it, too. she wants to try. she can't stay. she scrolls through her phone contacts, stops on tommy's name. snaps a photo of her drink and the departures screen behind her.

guess who's going to europe?

since when do you text?

apparently phone calls are for fossils.

he didn't actually call you a fossil, did he?

no, of course not, but he's a texter. so. i am too now, i guess.

europe, huh? and a guinness to get you started. so you're headed to ireland.

how'd you guess?

your mom mentioned it a few times. really loved a good brogue and pierce brosnan.

she did, didn't she?

yeah. i'm really sorry, abby. about your mom and the fact i couldn't make it.

thanks. any recommendations for when i'm over there?

i'm more of a desert guy, hang on. i've got an idea.

what is this, a group chat? wait, abby texts?

why is everyone surprised that i text?

sal, abby's looking for places to visit in europe.

hey, sal.

head to italy. stop. eat. come home.

sal, jesus. i was hoping you'd be a little more useful.

well, no, he's got a point tommy, i do love pasta.

jesus, fine, stop — gina says hi, by the way. abby, i've been informed by your ex you're going to ireland first.

someone's got to keep you on track, sal.

you've already got the gift of gab since you're on the phone all day, so you can probably skip the blarney stone. there's the giant's causeway. and all the travel magazines try to rank the castles, but they're all neat.

didn't realise you'd spent so much time in europe, sal.

well, gina's the expert (and dictating some of this to me) but hey. she took me over for our honeymoon and we hit the highlights.

we're both very impressed, sal. how long are you going to be in europe, abby?

i don't know. until i get… inspired.

is the baby hotshot coming with?

i hate it when you two call him that.

we could have used his name if you'd ever given it to us.

and have you track him down at work and crack jokes? i don't think so. abby stares at her phone for a long moment before texting again. no, he's not coming. we broke up.

he broke up with you after your mom died?

forget cracking jokes, we'll track him down at work and break his leg.

thank you for the offer, i think? but i was the one that broke up with him.

why?

was the sex that bad?

because i'm going to europe and i don't know when i'm coming back?

gross, sal. abby, if this kid was really into you, he would have waited.

don't listen to tommy, abby, he's still half-hung up on this girl that dumped him ten years ago.

sal!

sal!

abby gets a solo text almost immediately from tommy, promising to dunk sal's head in the nearest toilet the next time they're in the same place. she laughs to herself, startling when the announcement for her flight comes crackling out of the overhead speakers.

that's my cue, gents. sal, just because you and gina wish tommy would move in doesn't mean you have to project that feeling onto us.

he's just so much better at folding laundry than sal ever is - gina

i'm not running away, we got a call. but i'm really embarrassed to know all three of you.