#kind of a playful vent??

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

Me: Ahhh I love all the seasons. Fall is great and it's getting colder and I love the weather this time of year 💙

My body: That's hilarious! All of your joints hurt now and you can't move your fingers or toes correctly plus they're white and numb, oh and your nose is also numb for some reason

Me: *spitefully drinking pumpkin spiced hot chocolate, massaging my jaw, taking painkillers, typing slowly, drawing at my own pace and warming myself up* YOU UNDERESTIMATE MY POWER

[mintykiwi]

who hurt all tomorrows for you :(

):

[rafecameronssl4t]

Attention || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

Summary: literally tit obsessed!rafe fawning over readers boobs

Warnings: mention of birth control, swearing, slightly suggestive?

Word count: 851

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“He’s just so infuriating!” you vent, your voice sharp as you pull your hair into a messy bun, the motion jerky with irritation. You couldn’t sit still, pacing back and forth across the deck, your mind racing. Rafe was lounging in one of the chairs, his relaxed posture a stark contrast to your bubbling frustration.

His eyes followed you with quiet intensity, but he wasn’t as focused on your words as you wanted him to be. “He knew I was going to tell Mom and Dad about it,” you continue, voice rising. “But no, he just had to stick his nose in my business and tell them first!” You were fuming, your hands gesturing wildly as you ranted about your brother’s constant meddling.

Rafe barely responded, his gaze more intent on your figure than the content of your words. He watched the way your shoulders tensed, how your movements betrayed just how worked up you were, but he wasn’t truly listening. His mind was elsewhere, his lips twitching up into that familiar lazy smile as his eyes drifted over you.

“Rafe, baby, are you even listening?” you snap, suddenly stopping in your tracks, hands on your hips. You glared at him, expecting some kind of acknowledgment. Rafe blinked, seemingly dragged out of his own head, and lazily looked up at you, the smirk still lingering on his lips. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course I am,” he replied, his voice casual, as though you hadn’t just been spilling your frustrations.

“You want me to, uh, talk to Top? Tell me what you want me to do.” You huffed in annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive move. The action, while innocent on your end, drew Rafe’s attention immediately. His eyes widened slightly, and he shifted in his seat, leaning back with his lips pursed. He watched the way you folded your arms, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits.

“I dunno,” you mutter, your anger deflating. “I’m just so mad at him. I don’t even want to speak to him right now.” Your voice softens, frustration fading into weariness as you finally give up on pacing and drop down onto the lounge chair beside Rafe. You set your eyes on the water in front of you, trying to focus on its calm surface, wishing it would somehow mirror in your emotions.

Without a word, Rafe slung an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close. His lips brushed the top of your head, a quiet kiss that melted some of your remaining tension. The silent comfort of his touch was enough to ease the knot of frustration in your chest. For a moment, everything felt still, his warmth grounding you.

But then, Rafe’s voice broke the silence, his tone a little too amused. “By the way,” he murmured, his voice low, “when did your tits get so big?” His hand reaching down to squeeze. Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide with shock. “Rafe Cameron!” you shouted, your playful outrage breaking through the calm as you shoved him away. His laughter rang out in response, the mischievous glint in his eyes only growing as he doubled over in amusement.

You narrow your eyes at him, though a smirk plays at the corner of your lips as his laughter fills the air. “It’s because of birth control, Rafe,” you retort, voice laced with playful sarcasm. His laughter slows, and he looks at you with raised eyebrows, the smirk fading into curiosity. “Birth control?” he echoes, clearly intrigued by where this was going.

You lean in closer, your eyes locking with his, a teasing glint in your gaze. “Yeah, because you can’t seem to pull out in time,” you say, your voice dripping with mock exasperation. Rafe’s smirk instantly returns, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leans back into the chair, draping an arm behind his head.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” he asks, his tone teasing but his grin growing wider. “Yes, Rafe,” you say, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a laugh as you nudge his leg with your foot. “I swear, every time—” Before you can finish, Rafe cuts you off with a low chuckle, his hand slipping behind your neck, gently pulling you closer. “Guess that’s something we’ll have to work on,” he murmurs against your ear, his breath warm and sending a shiver down your spine.

He tilts your chin up to look at him, his thumb brushing across your jaw, amusement still dancing in his eyes. “Or maybe I just like the idea of keeping you on birth control a little while longer.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he was looking at you. “You're impossible,” you mutter, though the softness in your voice betrays any real frustration.

Rafe only grins wider, kissing the top of your head again, this time lingering a little longer, clearly pleased with himself. “You love me for it,” he whispers against your hair, his tone teasing, but the way he holds you feels more tender, a quiet comfort that you didn’t realise you needed.

[teddybeartoji]

jing yuan loves listening you ramble so much. he rests his head on his hand and just stares at you with the softest smile glued to his lips. gives you a sweet little hum every once in a while and he asks a few questions here and there, but otherwise he's quiet. he just wants to listen to you, he wants to hear your voice.

you could be talking about anything and everything btw,, it doesn't matter whether you're rambling about your day or about a movie you saw, about a hobby of yours or about the cute little kitty you saw on your way home – he's going to savour every single word that you offer him as if they're the only things that keep him going.

and when you happen to get a little flustered by his smitten gaze, he'll just laugh warmly before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear while ushering for you to go on. you might need a kiss or two to get back on track but luckily for you, he's more than happy to smother you in his love.

peck after peck after peck, his lips brush against your skin as he whispers his pleas to you. his playful desperation is nothing new; his heart full of devotion and his eyes pooling with only with the purest kind of admiration as he looks at you—

because at the end of the day it's not just your words and your voice that keep him going, it's the love you bestow upon him.

after having lived such a long life, you're a breath of fresh air and he refuses to waste a single breath. so, every word, every look, every beat of your heart is something to worship, something to honor. you're his everything.

a ramble, a vent, a prayer resembling his name – this once, jing yuan wants to be greedy. he wants everything, he wants all of you.

[pressureplus]

this blog is the goat i love it sm :) totally get if it's too much but i'd love drunk seb headcanons. thnx ❤️

LOVELY, YOUVE GOT THE BIGGEST BRAIN ANON /POS

♡Drunk Sebastian Solace Headcannons♡

Warnings: Intoxication, Warnings to not Fuck The Fish™️, Brief Sexual Content

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

First off, getting him drunk isn’t gonna be easy

His body is significantly bigger so it’ll take a lot more alcohol than a normal human person

That and he could already hold his drinks well, so it’ll take some work to get that man actually drunk instead of just buzzed

Don’t try to match him drink for drink, you WILL die of alcohol poisoning unless you’re an alcoholic

Which wouldn’t matter he’d still out drink you based on weight/size alone, so I guess try not to die is the only goal?

Doesn’t feel comfortable drunk around most people unless you’re BOTH that kind of tipsy or he’s already close with you

When you do actually get him drunk?

The flirtiest, giggliest drunk you’re ever met

Sebastian will laugh at literally everything, it makes him so much easier to talk with

The world is sunshine and rainbows as long as he’s really fucked up

Honestly? He deserves it. He’ll smile at you so softly and actually fully listen when you talk. Maybe he’s not the brightest, or most talkative, but he has weirdly good advice

Though he is super giggly and playful, he does flirt

Usually they’re kind of fun. They’re not meant to really invoke any real feelings

“Hey there hot stuff, you lookin for a chair?” As he pats a portion of his tail.

He WILL forget that he flirted with you later, so don’t try to corner him on it as some kind of gotcha moment. He won’t believe you.

It also doesn’t reflect his feelings entirely…well unless he really likes you.

He’ll get a bit tongue tied and may even let it slip that he thinks you’re just gorgeous

His flirting gets very personal if he has a thing for you, but it’s less frequent because the man is too busy squirming from just sitting with you

Think flustered school girl energy

If he likes you he will do ANYTHING you ask

Please don’t try to fuck the fish, he isn’t very smart and he’s not gonna be able to top you

You’d have to do 100% of the work, and he wouldn’t remember most of it tomorrow anyway

He will probably just fall into a fit of giggles at the offer, honestly, so the likelihood of it happening is like nothing

So unless you’re both so drunk you’re not thinking straight? Don’t do it. Dont even try it.

If he doesn’t like you in that way? You might actually die for attempting it. It’s not worth it.

Speaking of not worth it, that man loses so much motor function. His tail is apparently weirdly hard to control all the way

Will prefer to just sit with you and not go anywhere as he will not have the control necessary to do damn near anything

He tried only once to go do something while really fucked up

Stupid fishman got stuck in a vent for a few hours

Worst experience of his life, (drunk fishman claims) he would never ever do it again

He’s the kind of man that sings when he’s drunk too, but only if you do it with him. He mimics like a parrot.

Or if you manage to play songs with him somehow, he might sing them if he vibes with or knows the song

Get a man to sing your favorite songs horribly at an octave that outright hurts

Idk something like California Girls by Katy Perry? Have fun with it

He can’t exactly dance really well but he might do a fun little shimmy if the music pleases him enough

Have fun doing your shared little dances, drinking to forget (always remembering), and laughing about nonsense

I’m sure, as long as you get him something strong and a whole lot of it

The both of you will get along fine!

After all, he likes people that get him gifts like this a little more

[harmeu]

Falling Tears

(BSD MEN REACT TO THEIR SPOUSE CRYING)

(GN!Reader)

Dazai Osamu:

We all know Dazai is one to shrug off people's problems as if it were a measly little thing that was nothing to fuss over. The casual “You’ll be fine~!” But we all also know that Dazai cares for you. He loves you. If you were to sob in front of him it’d send him into an overdrive of broken worry.

You were tired. Sick and tired. It felt as if everyone was shrugging you off of your problems and you ran to the agency bathroom because your throat closed up and felt water appearing in your eyes. 

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

You knew those footsteps. It was your boyfriend. Dazai. You immediately began trying to wipe the tears, imagining that if Dazai were to see he’d try to stifle his laughter because of all those times he waved off your problems and vents. Sadly the tears couldn’t stop and now you were a flushed mess looking down to avoid his gaze. It was piercing.

“Darling what's this? Why’re you trying to hide your pretty face from meee~?” He cooed tilting your head up, having a playful smile but it broke as he noticed your tears. 

“Oh..what happened.?” 

“No one listens or takes me seriously. Not even you! I’m tired. Go away.” You try to shrug him off but he grasps your hands pulling you onto his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He frowned, his face softening. “I’m the asshole for ignoring. I should've known.” Worry was evident on his handsome face and you flushed at his words. You really needed to hear that. As Dazai apologized he peppered your face with kisses.

“Next time slap me if I brush off your problems. I might like it if you slap me though.” He winked which you scoffed at, holding back a chuckle.

Chuuya Nakahara:

Chuuya, despite being someone who definitely needs anger management classes will get immensely suspicious if you were to get the tiniest bit of a frown on your face. “Are you alright?” He’d constantly ask and once you break down his heart shatters.

You collapsed onto your bed spasming a bit from trying to hold back your tears. You knew you could tell Chuuya your love about your problems. Though there was a thing inside of you that said that he would be forcing himself to comfort you so you kept your mouth shut silently sobbing into a pillow curled up.

You flinched as the door knob cranked open revealing your boyfriend with wide eyes as he saw you so disheveled.

“What's wrong doll?” He murmured going to you and sitting beside you on the bed taking his gloved fingers to stroke your back delicately.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t wanna bother.” You mumble back looking back down at the pillow you sobbed into.

“Tell me who did it.” Chuuyas glare becomes more pronounced as seconds pass and you almost chuckle at his overprotectiveness.

“I’m just tired.” You say averting your gaze.

“I can be your stress relief.” He stared and flushed at his own words, scowling. “Not like that! Like..my arms are free for you.”

You laughed and dug yourself deep into his chest nuzzling as Chuuya put his chin on your head, kissing it gently.

Ranpo Edogawa:

This piece of shit of an egotistical man will KNOW your sad but won’t do anything about it. He’ll brush it off like Dazai in a more childish way. “I have better things to do!” He’d say casually sucking on his lollipop. But those once closed eyes would widen at the sight of your tears coming on display.

Everything and everyone was so mean. Why can’t they just understand you're tired?! You’ve tried. So. Many. Times. To talk to your boyfriend about your problems but he’d change the topic with what he was busy with.

Thinking no one was here you buried yourself into your desk of the agency, silent tears slipping out your eyes as you took a shaky breath, hands trembling beneath the desk. You sniffled but then heard a drop of some kind of food. Ice cream. Splat on the ground as you lift your head to see your boyfriend staring at you wide eyed, his glasses barely holding on.

“What?” You say annoyed wiping your tears so you don’t embarrass yourself further.

“You're crying.” He said as if it weren't the most obvious thing in the world.

“No shit.” You rubbed your eyes frantically realizing the tears wouldn’t stop which turned into a sniffle fest and you averted your body from him in a fluster.

Footsteps came closer and you felt arms wrap around your waist from behind and a face nuzzle into your neck.

“Did I do it.?” Ranpo mumbled a childish tone evident in his voice.

“Your part of it.” You said between tears and then your boyfriend kissed the back of your neck sending shivers down you. You try to glare but he uses the puppy dog look to manipulate you. Damn it.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled averting his gaze.

You didn’t fully accept his apology but you did accept the kisses he kept giving you during this encounter making you flush.

(FIRST POST IN LIKE MONTHSOMG anyway)

[leejenowrld]

‘love me back?’ — part 2

pairing - mark lee x reader

word count - 19.4k words

genre - angst, smut, fluff, strangers to lovers, forbidden love

synopsis — during an away game weekend at a motel, tensions rise sharply between mark and jeno, exacerbated by the close quarters and competitive atmosphere. meanwhile, your connection with mark deepens significantly. amidst the growing rivalry, you and mark find solace in each other’s company, leading to a night spent alone together in the motel, further complicating the dynamics of the trip.

chapter contents/warnings — college au, small town vibes, 2000s teen show vibes, this fic is heavily based on one tree hill, explicit sexual content, explicit dirty talk, spanking, biting, breath play, consensual choking and slapping, praise kink, oral sex received. fingering, a dominant mark and submissive reader dynamic, use of endearments such as ‘baby’ and ‘good girl’, grinding!!!! they’re obsessed with it, dry grinding and dry humping, mark orders reader to strip down, but mark will only let reader remove his clothing in exchange for personal facts about the you, he wants to know about you!! big cock mark agenda, reader gets so overwhelmed and turned on by the size, yet struggling to accommodate him, it takes a few repeated attempts to get his cock fully inside of you, a display of mark’s patience and softness, he goes a lot soft dom here when he’s really a hard dom but he goes softer for you!!! explicit language, slow burn, emotional (and sexual) tension between reader and mark, basketball is a heavy theme, mark being a key player, reader struggles with communication and vulnerability, toxic sibling rivalry between jeno and mark, soft mark, emo boy mark, confident mark, understated and hot mark, competitive sports tension. mark and jeno fighting again, they kinda bond (?) but it’s slow burn and they’re gonna be very off and on, jeno is very off and on with how he acts and how genuine he is, hints of jealous karina, creepy motel vibes, oh and guess who you meet… jeno and mark’s dad!! hehe

[fic ml]

ONE — TWO — THREE — FOUR — FIVE

───────────────────────────────

The morning sun was still hanging low in the sky, casting a pale, golden glow across the university campus. The air was cool and crisp, the kind that hinted at the early stages of fall, where the chill settled into your skin but wasn’t enough to make you uncomfortable. The campus was buzzing with a chaotic energy—players from the basketball team hauling their bags, some slung over their shoulders, others dragging them across the pavement as they exchanged jokes and playful shoves. Cheerleaders were gathered in small groups, some adjusting their ponytails while others scrolled absentmindedly through their phones, their bags packed with uniforms and pom-poms, ready for the weekend away.

Parked in the lot were two large coaches, engines humming softly, filling the air with that distinct scent of diesel and excitement. Coach Suh was already barking orders, his usual gruff tone laced with impatience as he directed the team and checked his clipboard. His assistant coaches stood nearby, chatting with some of the teachers who would be chaperoning the trip, their voices blending with the surrounding noise. The whole scene was one of anticipation—the players buzzing about the away game, the cheerleaders giggling as they gossiped, the distant sound of music filtering from someone’s speaker in the crowd.

You and Karina walked arm in arm through the bustling crowd, her voice slicing through the noise as she vented about something trivial—the usual drama, this time involving Winter. You weren’t paying much attention, your mind somewhere else. It had been a week since you and Jeno broke up, and while you told yourself you were getting over it, a tight knot of anxiety still sat heavy in your chest. A week since everything changed. A week since that kiss with Mark, a moment you couldn’t stop replaying in your head. Now, you were about to spend a whole weekend with both of them, and the thought made your nerves fray at the edges. You weren’t sure if you were ready for this.

“Rina, stop being rude,” you mumbled, barely paying attention as she continued her rant, huffing dramatically when you two bumped into Winter. Karina immediately switched gears, blowing her a playful kiss before wrapping her in a tight hug. But you were already distracted, your focus shifting as your eyes caught sight of Mark in the distance.

He was standing alone, leaning against his bag, earbuds in, completely lost in his own world. His hair was slightly tousled, messy in that careless way that always suited him, and he was wearing black glasses—ones you hadn’t seen him in before, which made something flutter faintly in your chest. The soft sunlight caught on his frame, making the whole scene look like something out of a movie.

“Hold on a sec,” you murmured, cutting Karina off mid-sentence. She looked at you, raising an eyebrow as she watched you slip away from her side, curiosity evident on her face.

You made your way over to where Mark was standing, weaving through the scattered clusters of students, your heart thudding slightly harder in your chest. He hadn’t noticed you yet, his music too loud, and his eyes half-closed, like he was lost in thought.

“Mark,” you said, raising your voice slightly as you gave him a gentle tap on the shoulder.

He blinked, startled out of his reverie, and when he turned around, a small, soft smile immediately graced his lips. He pulled one earbud out, his eyes brightening at the sight of you. “Hey,” he greeted casually, as though it hadn’t been a week since you last spoke. As if that kiss had never happened.

“Hey,” you echoed, feeling suddenly awkward. Your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your bag as you searched for the right words. “Um, I just wanted to thank you, you know… for that night. It—it really meant a lot.”

His smile widened a fraction, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue. With slightly trembling fingers, you reached into your bag and pulled out a small, carefully wrapped package—a record you had made just for him. The case was simple, but you had taken the time to customize it—his name written in a looping script across the front, surrounded by small doodles of guitars and basketballs. You had put more effort into it than you’d ever admit, each stroke of ink a small way of thanking him without having to say the words.

Mark’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, his lips parting slightly as he took the package from you, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment. “Does this mean we’re dating now?” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he examined the record.

Your cheeks flushed immediately. “No,” you mumbled, trying to keep your cool. “I just had a lot of free time, and you have a long journey ahead, so… don’t read too much into it.”

But Mark wasn’t buying it, his smirk only deepening as he glanced back up at you. “Sure. Free time.”

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Jeno standing near one of the other coaches, deep in conversation with one of his and Mark’s mutual friends. They were laughing about something, completely oblivious to you and Mark’s interaction, and yet, the sight of him still made your stomach flip in that uncomfortable way it had been doing for the past week.

Mark noticed your distraction but didn’t say anything. He just tucked the record into his bag with a quiet, “Thanks, Y/N,” before offering you a soft, genuine smile.

You gave him a small nod, a sense of relief washing over you, but before you could say anything else, Karina’s voice rang out from across the lot, calling your name.

“I should go,” you said quickly, backing away a few steps. “See you on the bus.”

Mark waved, popping his earbud back in as he leaned against his bag again, slipping back into his own world as if nothing had happened. But you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted, something small and unspoken, lingering in the space between you.

When you returned to Karina’s side, she was giving you a look that was half suspicion, half curiosity. “What was that?” she asked, her voice dripping with intrigue.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, though the heat rising to your cheeks probably gave you away. “Just thanked him for something.”

Karina’s eyes narrowed, a knowing smirk tugging at the edges of her lips. “You don’t like him, do you?”

“Karina, stop overreacting,” you muttered, trying to brush her off, but you could feel her gaze piercing into you.

“Good,” she said, with a casual shrug. “Because I still wanna have sex with him.”

Your heart lurched, and you tried to keep your expression neutral. “Okay,” you said, voice steady, though your mind was spinning. You couldn’t judge her—not when you felt the same. But there was no way you were going to tell her about the kiss. That would only lead to more problems.

The two of you finally boarded the bus, finding your seats among the other cheerleaders and players. As you settled in, you let out a small sigh, the weight of the day’s tension settling on your shoulders. It was going to be a long weekend. You could feel it in the air. But as the bus started moving, the sound of the engine humming beneath you, you couldn’t help but wonder—what was going to happen between you, Mark, and Jeno? The tension between all three of you was still there, unresolved, waiting to bubble over.

───��───────────────────────────

The gym buzzed with life, the clamor of shoes squeaking against the polished wooden floor, the rhythmic bounce of basketballs, and the murmur of the audience creating a palpable energy. It felt like the air was thick with anticipation, the overhead fluorescent lights harsh and bright, casting long shadows on the floor as the two teams warmed up. The scent of sweat and rubber mingled with the faint aroma of cheap popcorn from the concession stands. On the far side, the home bleachers were packed with students, most clad in blue jerseys, their school colors proudly worn across their bodies like armor. The cheerleaders were stationed by the sidelines, their outfits hugging their curves, shimmering pom-poms ready in hand.

You were in the thick of it, standing with Karina at the edge of the court, arms raised with your pom-poms, shaking them rhythmically as you moved through the choreographed routines. Your cheerleading uniform was snug, the blue pleats of your skirt fluttering as you danced, and your crop top clung to your skin, showing just enough midriff to catch the eyes of anyone paying attention. The crowd was electric, and the boys were on fire tonight, especially Mark and Jeno—though they were in their own worlds, not even acknowledging each other.

Karina’s voice, hushed yet teasing, pulled you from the daze of the game. “Oh my God, Mark looks so hot in blue. We should both fuck him.”

You choked on a laugh, whipping your head toward her. “We?”

“Yeah, at the same time. Threesome.” She shrugged like it was the most natural suggestion in the world.

“Please, shut up,” you hissed through a grin, unable to suppress the giggle bubbling at your throat. You shook your pom-poms in sync with the rest of the girls, trying to keep your focus on the game, but Karina’s persistent teasing kept your mind elsewhere.

“What? You need a little rebound action unless—” Her voice dropped, her gaze flicking toward the court where Jeno sprinted past. “Unless you’re still into Jeno.”

“I’m not,” you answered quickly, too quickly, as your eyes slid to where Jeno was dominating the court. His jersey, drenched with sweat, clung to his body, showcasing every muscle, every ripple of his toned arms and chest. His biceps flexed as he dribbled, every move calculated and strong, and there was no denying he looked good tonight. But that’s all it was—an attraction. Purely physical. The sexual chemistry between you two had been undeniable, but it was never enough to keep you together. The connection was shallow. You both knew it, and yet, the ache of desire was still there.

“Good,” Karina smirked, satisfied with your response. “Because you’re my best friend, and I love you. You get a courtesy hold on Mark for the weekend, but after that, he’s fair game.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. Karina had been there for you through everything, especially after the breakup. She knew how to make light of everything, how to push you to move on even when you didn’t want to.

As the game unfolded, you spotted Jeno and Mark’s best friend sitting in the bleachers, her posture shy and reserved. She had that doe-eyed, innocent look about her, with her small frame tucked into an oversized hoodie, eyes wide as she watched the boys play. She seemed out of place here, her innocence a stark contrast to the intensity of the game.

“What’s the story with that one anyway?” Karina asked, her eyes zeroed in on the girl.

You shrugged, not looking away from the court. “Jeno said she’s tutoring him.”

“And hanging out with Mark?” Karina’s eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“They’ve been best friends since they were kids, right?” you replied, though the bitterness in your voice was hard to miss. You had asked Mark once, point-blank, if there was anything more than friendship between them. He had laughed, like the idea was so ridiculous it didn’t even deserve a serious response. She’s like a sister, he’d said.

Karina leaned in, whispering like she was sharing the juiciest gossip. “Right. And we’re supposed to believe she’s just friends with both of them?”

“She doesn’t seem like a troublemaker,” you murmured, though even you weren’t convinced by your own words.

Karina’s gasp made your head snap toward her. “Did you just see that? Jeno gave her the nod.”

You frowned, feeling your stomach twist. “What nod?”

“The ‘let’s hook up after the game’ nod,” Karina explained, her eyes wide in disbelief.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Karina, you’re reading too much into things.”

Karina crossed her arms, smirking knowingly. “You wanna know what I think? I think Jeno likes tutor girl. I think tutor girl likes Mark. And I know I like Mark. And I don’t even know who the hell you like anymore.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, though the whole thing was spiraling into a mess you didn’t even know how to untangle.

Back on the court, Donghyuck’s voice crackled through the speaker system, narrating the game with his usual laid-back flair. “Ravens have a big lead early in the second quarter,” he announced, his eyes tracking every movement with a casual ease.

Jeno charged down the court, eyes locked on the basket, but his speed got the better of him. As he tried to weave past an opponent, he slammed into him with his shoulder, sending the opposing player sprawling onto the floor. The referee’s whistle pierced through the noise.

“That’s a foul on Jeno Lee,” Donghyuck’s voice rang through the speakers, cutting through the tension in the gym.

Mark, nearby, groaned in exasperation, shaking his head. “Seriously, man? You’re costing us the game,” he muttered, though loud enough for Jeno to hear.

Jeno spun around, eyes blazing with anger. “Mind your own business,” 

Mark’s smirk only widened as he crossed his arms. “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t realise we were here to watch you fuck up.” He raised a brow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe if you could actually control your temper, we’d be winning by more.”

Jeno stepped closer, his jaw clenched tight. “How about you shut your mouth before I make you.”

Mark shrugged, not backing down. “Why don’t I beat your ass right here and save us the trouble?”

The tension between them was palpable, their rivalry burning hotter by the second. Even though they were on the same team, they were playing like they were enemies, completely isolated in their own games. Jeno refused to pass the ball to Mark, and Mark ignored Jeno’s open plays, yet somehow, the team was still leading. It was a miracle they were winning at all.

Then came Mark’s turn for a foul. He was dribbling down the court, eyes locked on the basket, when he made an overly ambitious attempt at a crossover. His footwork got tangled, and in an awkward stumble, he ended up traveling—taking one too many steps before the ball left his hands.

The referee’s whistle blew sharply. “Traveling violation on Mark Lee!” Donghyuck announced, the crowd groaning in response.

Jeno, quick to pounce on any mistake, smirked. “Nice one, genius. You forget how to dribble?”

Mark shot him a venomous look, his frustration simmering. “Why don’t you try shutting the hell up?”

The game continued, but the tension between them was only escalating. You saw Jeno glance toward Mark’s best friend in the bleachers, her face bored as she gazed around, barely paying attention.

“Hey, she’s looking pretty fine tonight, right?” Jeno smirked, leaning toward Mark just enough for him to hear. “Can’t wait to get with that after the game.”

Mark’s face twisted with anger, the tension between him and Jeno reaching a boiling point. He shot a glance at you, his voice low but cutting, every word laced with venom. “Caught Jeno in the locker room earlier… guess I finally figured out why you left him.”

The implication hung heavy in the air, unspoken but obvious. The cheerleaders beside you snickered softly, exchanging knowing glances. You widen your eyes in disbelief, a flush creeping up your neck as you process his words. It wasn’t just a jab at Jeno—it was personal, and everyone around could feel it.

Jeno’s face contorted with pure rage, his eyes narrowing as the tension finally snapped. Without hesitation, he hurled the basketball straight at Mark’s head, the thud of impact echoing through the gym. In that split second, the air shifted, thick with hostility, and everything spiraled out of control.

The next thing you knew, they were on each other, fists flying as the audience gasped in shock. Mark shoved Jeno hard, sending him stumbling back. Jeno’s momentum carried him into Karina, who was caught off guard and stumbled back, screaming as she fell to the ground.

But Jeno wasn’t backing down. He regained his balance quickly, grabbed Mark by the collar, and yanked him forward, slamming his fist into Mark’s stomach.

The players on the court rushed in, trying to pull them apart, but they were relentless. Every punch, every shove, was filled with weeks, maybe months, of pent-up frustration. As they tussled, Karina, still on the floor, tried to recover, her face etched with pain and confusion.

Coach Suh stormed onto the court, his face red with anger as he bellowed orders. “What the hell is going on?!”

The referee blew his whistle, his voice barely cutting through the chaos. “That’s it, both of you are out!”

“You’re throwing them both out of the game?!” Coach Suh shouted, barely able to contain his rage.

“I have to, Coach,” the referee yelled back. “Punches were thrown.”

“They’re both on the same team!” Coach Suh screamed, his frustration palpable.

The whole gym was a mess—cheerleaders trying to calm the crowd, players separating the two brothers, Coach Suh losing his mind on the sidelines. You couldn’t believe how quickly things had spiraled out of control.

You rushed over to Karina, helping her up from where she lay on the gym floor. “Are you okay?” you asked, concerned.

She clutched her head, wincing in pain. “Ow, pain,” she muttered, rubbing her temple.

And as you looked back at Mark and Jeno, both of them being escorted off the court, you couldn’t help but wonder how this was all going to end.

───────────────────────────────

The bus rattles down the dark country road, headlights cutting through the shadows as the low hum of the engine mingles with the tired murmurs of the team. The cheerleaders sit scattered across seats, throwing occasional wary glances at Coach Suh, who stands at the front of the coach, face set like stone, eyes boring into the back of everyone’s heads. The tension is thick, even those uninvolved feel the simmering anger rolling off him, spreading like wildfire. But the main culprits sit slouched in the back, sullen and unrepentant.

“Mark Lee, Jeno Lee. On your feet.”

The entire bus goes silent. Jeno rolls his eyes, but he stands, fixing a casual scowl on his face. Mark follows suit, his jaw tight, as if bracing for a hit. Coach Suh steps closer, his gaze narrowing on the two of them, nostrils flaring.

“Congratulations, boys. In all my years coaching, this has got to be a low point.” His words land like blows, the weight of disappointment dripping from each syllable. “That little stunt you pulled almost cost us our undefeated record.”

He pauses, arms crossed, eyes flicking between the two. “I don’t give a damn about your issues with your daddy, your girlfriends, or whatever garbage you’re both dragging out here. As far as I’m concerned, you can hate each other until hell freezes over, but if you’re gonna play on my team, you’re gonna learn how to work together.”

Jeno scoffs, crossing his arms. “I can’t see that happening, Suh.”

Coach Suh’s face hardens, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Yeah? Well, you’ve got thirty miles to figure it out.” Without another word, he jerks his thumb toward the door. “Get off my bus.”

The two barely have a moment to process before Coach is barking orders to the driver. They’re pushed off the bus, stumbling onto the gravel shoulder as the bus door slams shut. Exhaust fumes fill the air as the coach pulls away, taillights fading in the distance, leaving them stranded under a starlit sky.

“They can’t just leave us here,” Jeno mutters, a mixture of disbelief and anger flashing in his eyes.

Mark sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glances down the dark, empty road stretching ahead. “Nice work, idiot.”

Jeno’s gaze snaps toward him, eyes narrowing. “Calm down.”

“You calm down. My phone’s on that bus.”

Mark shakes his head, glancing back at the road as if it might magically bring the bus back. “My wallet’s on that bus, too.”

“Mine too,” Jeno mutters.

The silence stretches between them, punctuated only by the distant rustling of trees in the wind and the steady chirp of crickets. They both realize the absurdity of it — left with nothing but each other on an empty road, thirty miles from any sign of life.

Jeno breaks the silence with a frustrated groan. “What the hell do we do now?”

Mark glances down the road, kicking at the gravel under his feet. “We start walking.”

The night air is chilly, and the silence between them grows colder. They walk side by side, their footsteps crunching on the gravel, neither willing to break the silence until the irritation bubbles over, each resentful glance in the other’s direction building until it finally snaps.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you never joined the team,” Jeno hisses, his voice carrying through the empty night like a challenge.

Mark’s fists clench at his sides, but he keeps his voice low, controlled. “No, we wouldn’t be out here if you weren’t such a jackass about me joining the team.”

Jeno scoffs, turning to face him. “Why do you want my life so bad, anyway?”

Mark stops, looking at him dead-on. “This again? Dude, don’t flatter yourself. You’re the last person I’d wanna trade places with.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jeno’s voice is harsh, his words fueled by a bitterness that runs deep. “All I know is that you came out of nowhere and started grabbing everything you could from me. My game, my girl.” His voice cracks, a flash of vulnerability slipping through before he regains his composure. “Sounds like a broken record, right?”

Mark’s lips curl into a smirk, his eyes glinting in the low light as he shoots back, “Your girl? Last I checked, she dumped your stupid ass.”

Jeno’s jaw tightens, but he scoffs, brushing it off with a roll of his eyes. “I actually dumped her, but—”

Before he can finish, Mark steps closer, his expression darkening, his voice deadly calm. “Watch it.”

They stand there, silence stretching between them, eyes locked in an unspoken challenge. Mark’s mind flashes with memories he’d buried, moments that flood his thoughts with a guilty thrill. He wonders if Jeno has any idea what happened after Jeno walked away from you, the way you gravitated toward Mark, the way you sought him out with a lingering gaze, lips parted, words barely needing to be said.

And Mark wonders what Jeno would do if he knew how you clung to him that night, how your fingers traced his skin, how your breath hitched every time he touched you. If he knew the things you whispered in the dark, the way you looked at him with need, the way you wanted him — wanted to fuck him so badly, a fire in your eyes that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with desire.

The thought stirs something in Mark, a dangerous satisfaction.

Mark’s gaze softens, but there’s an edge to it, as if he’s finally had enough. “Well, what about you?” he shoots back, voice laced with bitterness. “I bet your grades sucked before you met me.”

Jeno’s face contorts, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Who said all me and her got is about grades?”

Mark studies Jeno’s face for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He hesitates, choosing his words carefully, knowing exactly how to hit where it matters without overstepping.

“You ever think about why people put up with you?” Mark says, his tone softer, almost casual, but there’s an edge. “Like my best friend… I don’t know what’s going on between you two but she’s been in your corner even when you don’t make it easy. And you don’t even seem to notice.”

Jeno’s face hardens, his defensiveness flaring up. “Last time I checked, it’s none of your fucking business,” he snaps.

Mark chuckles dryly, shaking his head. “Friends don’t have to keep sticking around, Jeno. She doesn’t have to. You act like people are just gonna stay no matter what, like she’ll always be there for you.” He lets the silence settle, watching Jeno’s reaction. “But even she’s gonna reach her limit eventually.”

Jeno’s jaw tenses, brushing it off. “She won’t..”

Mark just sighs, his gaze shifting down the road. “Just don’t be surprised if one day she’s not waiting around for you to get your act together. She’s got her own life, her own choices.” He glances at Jeno, a hint of something in his eyes Jeno doesn’t quite catch. “And maybe she’s already realizing that.”

───────────────────────────────

The sterile chill of the doctor’s office settles over you as you sit beside Karina, who winces each time she moves her ankle. The rest of the team is back at the motel, locked down under a strict curfew after Coach Suh’s fury over Mark and Jeno’s latest stunt. Somehow, though, he made an exception for you to accompany Karina here, her ankle too swollen and painful to ignore.

Karina shifts on the examination table, sucking in a sharp breath as the doctor carefully assesses the injury, then begins wrapping her ankle in a firm bandage. She bites her lip, eyelids fluttering as she watches him intently, a coy smile playing on her lips. You frown, noticing her glancing up at him with a softness in her eyes that feels oddly out of place. He isn’t even that attractive, you think, confused by her sudden flirtation.

“Don’t worry, doctor,” she says with a playful tilt of her head, voice honeyed. “I’m in good hands, aren’t I?”

You’re about to say something, feeling the strangeness of it all, when the doctor reaches into his drawer, pulling out a small bottle of painkillers. “Here, take one of these now,” he says, handing her a pill, “and just half of one every twelve hours. Don’t take too many at once—”

Karina pops three of them into her mouth, swallowing them with a quick, mischievous grin. “Oops,” she giggles, leaning back with a sigh as if this is all part of the plan.

And in a flash, it clicks — the batting eyelashes, the sugary smile, the subtle brush of her fingers against his hand. She’s not flirting with him for his attention. She’s trying to score extra meds. You watch in astonishment as she tilts her head, feigning another innocent look. “Doctor, do you think I could maybe… have a few more? You know, just in case the pain gets really bad later?”

The doctor hesitates, clearly charmed, and reluctantly hands over a few extra pills. Karina’s eyes glint with satisfaction, tucking the extra pills into her bag as she gives him one last, grateful smile.

As you help Karina hobble out, she’s clutching your arm, her eyes glassy and far too animated. She’s practically bouncing as you guide her down the hallway.

Outside, as you’re about to help her into the car, you notice a familiar face near the entrance. Mark’s best friend stands there, looking caught off guard, her eyes widening as if she’s been caught red-handed.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and suspicion in your voice.

“Oh, I was just… exploring the area,” she says, her voice wavering slightly as she tries to sound casual.

You laugh, shaking your head. “We’re at a doctor’s office.”

She bites her lip, looking away with a sheepish smile. “Yeah, well… I wanted to see it, okay?”

You roll your eyes. “Right. Totally makes sense.”

Karina, meanwhile, is swaying on her feet, her arm still looped through yours, a dazed smile on her face. “We should totally hang out more often, what’s your name?”

The girl says her name, but Karina waves her hand dismissively. “I’m gonna call you ‘Rina’. I don’t like your name.”

The girl looks between the two of you, unsure if she should laugh or be offended. “Thanks… I guess.”

You chuckle, exasperated but amused, as Karina starts humming a random tune under her breath. “C’mon, Karina, let’s get you to the car.”

As you help Karina toward the car, she pauses, glancing back at Mark’s best friend with wide, pleading eyes. “Wait! Y/N, can she come with us?”

You raise an eyebrow, giving her a questioning look. She hesitates, clearing her throat. “I already got a ride back to the motel.”

You sigh, a small, amused smile playing at your lips. “What, the bus? The last one just left a few minutes ago. And you wanna go by public transport at this time of night? In an unknown and dark area?”

She falters, glancing down the empty road, clearly rethinking her plan. Meanwhile, Karina lights up, a grin stretching across her face as if it’s all settled. “Perfect!, you’re coming with us!” she declares, already pulling her toward the back seat.

You can’t help but roll your eyes as they both settle in, Karina giggling and leaning close to her. As soon as you start the car, Karina’s hand darts forward, reaching for the radio.

“Don’t touch the radio, or we’ll have a problem,” you warn, catching her eye in the rearview mirror.

But she’s already twisting the dial, landing on a random station and singing along, loud and out of tune. Mark’s best friend glances at you with a half-smile, half-grimace, clearly unsure of what she’s gotten herself into.

“Don’t worry,” you reassure her with a quick look back. “She’ll be fine once she sleeps it off.”

Karina, oblivious to the cautious energy in the car, leans over, grabbing her friend’s hand with wide, adoring eyes. “You’re my favorite, Rina. We’re gonna be best friends forever,” she slurs with a giggle, still believing her name was ‘Rina.’ 

You stifle a laugh as you pull out onto the road, realising it’s going to be a long, strange ride back to the motel.

───────────────────────────────

The quiet hum of the car blends with Karina’s off-key singing, her hand fiddling with the radio as you drive along the deserted road. The night stretches on outside the car windows, fields bathed in moonlight, the road a dark ribbon cutting through the countryside. Mark’s best friend sits beside Karina, offering an amused glance every now and then, though you can tell she’s half-wishing she’d chosen a different ride back to the motel. You stifle a smile at the absurdity of it all.

The journey’s been quiet for a while now, with Karina’s singing slowing to a soft hum as she leans against the window, eyelids heavy, barely holding onto her high. You’re halfway back, another hour to go, when a movement on the roadside catches your attention. Two figures, barely illuminated by your headlights, are trudging along the shoulder, looking like they’ve been through hell. Squinting, you realise it’s Jeno and Mark, walking side by side, both looking rough and dishevelled. Seriously, did they spend the whole time hitting each other?

You slow down and pull over, giving a quick beep to catch their attention. The boys look up, relief flashing across their faces as they recognize you. But as you look closer, confusion knots in your stomach; they don’t seem like they’re fighting, but they’re covered in marks and bruises, a testament to some kind of ordeal. They approach the car, Jeno with tired eyes and Mark with a weary, yet satisfied look.

You arch an eyebrow, eyeing the two of them, your voice laced with incredulity. “Do I even wanna know what happened?”

Jeno and Mark exchange glances, and without a word of protest, they begin to explain. It starts with them walking back, still stewing in anger from being thrown off the bus. Then, a group of players from the opposing team spotted them and pulled over, offering Jeno a ride. Despite the uneasy feeling in the air, Jeno’s pride wouldn’t let him turn it down, even when Mark, sensing trouble, warned him against it. But Jeno got in anyway, throwing Mark a smug look that all but dared him to follow. Mark, unwilling to leave his brother alone, reluctantly climbed in.

The ride took a turn, just as Mark had feared. The opposing players started messing with them, egging them on with taunts and jeers until they forced Jeno and Mark to strip down to their boxers. Humiliation simmered in Jeno’s eyes, his fists clenched tight, but Mark kept his cool, his mind spinning for a way out. It was then that the players offered a sick deal: they’d leave them alone if the brothers fought each other.

With no other option, Jeno and Mark put on a show, faking punches and grappling. But as they moved, Mark managed to swipe the car keys from one of the guys’ pockets. It was the first time they’d worked together as a team, their silent coordination kicking in out of pure desperation. When the brawl seemed convincing enough, they seized their chance, racing to the car, only to find it stuck in the mud. Swearing under their breath, they abandoned it and took off on foot, laughing despite the absurdity of it all, still bickering, but now with a hint of shared respect.

Listening to their tale, you can’t help but shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips. There’s tension still simmering between them, unspoken words and unresolved resentment hanging heavy in the air. But this, this was a start. It was far too early to think all their issues could be resolved in one night, but maybe — just for tonight — you could all ignore the conflict, let it slip away, and pretend things were fine.

“Coach Suh and his tactics really work,” you muse, half in astonishment, as you look between them when the traffic lights flash red. You catch a rare moment of calm in their expressions, Mark’s gaze softened, Jeno’s cocky mask quietq just slightly as he leans back, arms crossed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Mark’s best friend with a small smirk, the corner of her lips quirking upward. Huh. What was that about? She’s usually quiet, but there’s something in her look that suggests she knows more than she’s letting on. It’s always the quiet ones, you think, a sense of curiosity stirring.

As you pull away from the stop, a thought crosses your mind — could she have had something to do with this? With Jeno’s sudden willingness to give Mark even a sliver of slack? The ride back stretches on, filled with a strange mixture of silence and soft laughter, the beginnings of an unexpected truce lingering in the air. 

──────────────────────────────

The motel looms in the dim glow of your car’s headlights as you pull into the cracked, uneven parking lot. A few lights flicker weakly along the exterior, casting pale, yellow circles on the worn asphalt, barely enough to pierce through the night. The building itself is modest, cloaked in an air of neglect, with faded paint peeling from the wood and shadows thickening in the crevices around the doors and windows. The faint hum of buzzing neon letters above the entrance spells out ��Vacancy,” the ‘V’ occasionally blinking, as if it’s uncertain about its own existence.

Jeno’s voice breaks the silence as he turns to you, hands casually stuffed in his pockets. “Hey, me and the guys are gonna go partying. You wanna come?” He raises an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to Mark for a split second before landing back on you, a hint of mischief in his smile.

You shake your head, laughing softly. “I’m really tired. I think I’ll call it a night. You enjoy yourself, though. I don’t know how you have so much energy after all that happened today.”

Jeno just shrugs, his smile widening. “Suit yourself.”

“I wanna come!” Karina chimes in, bouncing over to Jeno and slinging an arm around his shoulders with such force that he nearly stumbles, catching her with a chuckle. He slips an arm around her back, steadying her, and they both look over at Mark’s best friend, asking if she wants to tag along 

She laughs, shaking her head in amusement. “Fuck it, fine, I’ll go too. Why not?”

Jeno’s gaze drifts back to you, a final question in his eyes. “You sure you don’t want to come, Y/N?”

You smile, shaking your head once more. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

With a shrug, he gives you a warm smile. “Alright, then. Good night.” He gives Mark a small nod, and then the three of them disappear into the shadows of the parking lot, their laughter echoing softly as they head toward the distant thrum of the party.

The night settles around you, the silence deepening. You turn to Mark, who lingers by your side, his presence grounding you in the quiet. He’s watching you, his gaze thoughtful, steady, as if waiting.

The doors to the motel swing open, revealing a dimly lit hallway that stretches out in both directions, lined with faded floral wallpaper and scuffed wooden trim. The smell is a mix of old wood, dust, and something faintly sweet, like the lingering remnants of perfume, as if echoes of past guests have left traces of themselves here, woven into the fabric of the place.

You walk in silence, each footstep softened by the thin, worn carpet, every sound amplified in the otherwise quiet space. The tension between you hums, tangible and charged, filling the stillness with an unspoken understanding that neither of you seems willing to break.

You reach the start of the long hallway, the shadows deepening around you. There, you both come to a natural stop, instinctively turning to face each other. The faint glow from the flickering bulbs above casts soft light across his face, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the warmth in his eyes as he looks down at you. For a moment, neither of you speaks, standing there, so close yet so unsure, the silence thickening as you both search for something to say.

Your mouth parts slightly, words hovering on the edge, but they refuse to come. His gaze holds yours, unwavering, his lips parting just a fraction, mirroring your own silent question, as if he’s also lost in the space between you, not knowing where to begin. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, a softness that catches you off guard, and you feel the weight of it, heavy and warm, settling in your chest.

Finally, he clears his throat, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “I’ll walk you to your room, this place is so creepy.” He says, the words quiet but steady.

You nod, your breath catching, feeling the warmth of his offer seep into your skin, grounding you. “Yeah… I’d like that, it’s such a dark hallway, it’s so scary.” You murmur, your voice soft, barely breaking the silence, and together, you begin to walk down the dim hallway, your footsteps falling into a quiet rhythm, side by side, close enough to feel each other’s presence, every step heightening the anticipation that hangs between you.

“Let’s go,” he says softly, his voice steady yet gentle, and it pulls you out of the moment, grounding you.

As you walk, Mark stays close by your side, his presence warm and solid in the dimness. You’re embarrassed by the way your hand brushes against his arm, how you instinctively lean just a little closer than necessary, as if his nearness alone can fend off the eerie stillness of the hallway. Your heart pounds louder than you’d like, each beat reminding you how aware you are of him, of every detail — the quiet confidence in his stride, the way his eyes scan the corridor, protective but at ease.

The hallway stretches ahead, narrowing into shadows at the far end, every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet making the silence feel heavier. The motel feels frozen in time, suspended in an atmosphere thick with the ghosts of other people’s stories. Faint, peeling paintings line the walls, barely visible in the dim light, their subjects obscured by layers of dust and age. Mark’s gaze moves from one faded frame to the next, a quiet curiosity in his eyes, as if he’s absorbing every detail, noticing things even you missed.

When you finally reach your room, you fumble with the key, your hands inexplicably shaky, and feel a rush of relief as the door swings open. The room is small, modest, barely illuminated by the single bedside lamp casting a soft, amber glow over the space. The beds are narrow, pushed against opposite walls, their sheets clean but worn, edges frayed, as if they’ve seen countless nights. The carpet is thin, faded in patches, and the heavy drapes by the window barely keep out the dim streetlight filtering in from outside.

You turn to Mark, who stands in the doorway, his gaze moving over the room before landing back on you. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, something that makes your heart pound a little faster, a warmth that lingers between you in the quiet.

“You can stay… if you want. Karina won’t be back anytime soon, so we could just… hang out,” you murmur, your voice soft, barely above a whisper, feeling the weight of the invitation hanging in the air.

Mark stands there, just inside the doorway, his gaze steady on you, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. Instead, a small, gentle smile tugs at his lips, and he raises an eyebrow slightly, letting the words hang between you. “‘Hang out?’” he repeats softly, as though he’s testing the phrase.

You feel your cheeks heat up, the way he says it makes the words feel bolder, more vulnerable than you intended. You swallow, nodding, and barely manage to whisper, “Yes.”

He steps further inside, closing the door gently behind him, the quiet click of the lock making your heart pound a little harder. “I’d like that,” he says, his voice warm, carrying a softness that makes the air around you feel charged, close, as though even the walls of the room are holding their breath.

You gesture toward the room with a nervous laugh, trying to ease the tension settling between you. “Oh, by the way… there’s two beds,” you say, your voice soft, almost playful, as if pointing it out might somehow make the moment feel less charged, less intimate.

His eyes follow where you’re pointing, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he glances from one bed to the other, then back to you. The look in his eyes is knowing, almost amused, but he doesn’t say anything, letting the words linger, a silent acknowledgment of the thin veil of casualness you’re both holding onto.

You settle onto the edge of your bed, pulling out your sketchbook, pencils, camera, and laptop, thinking you might take this quiet moment to finish some assignments. Mark moves toward the other bed, but his eyes remain on you, an intensity in his gaze that you can feel even as you focus on your work, earbuds in, trying to ground yourself in the familiar tasks.

You’re so lost in your own world that you don’t notice him move until he gently tugs one earbud out, his fingers brushing your ear softly. You glance up, startled, and find him close, his face inches from yours, a soft amusement in his gaze.

“You’re working? Now?” he whispers, his voice low, carrying a warmth that pulls at something deep inside you.

“Mm-hm,” you manage, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his steady gaze. “It… it needs to get done.”

He watches you for a moment, a quiet curiosity in his eyes, then offers, “Can I help? I’m not really tired.”

You smile, nodding as you pat the empty space beside you. “You can just… sit here. Keep me company.” Your heart races as he settles beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight, pulling you both closer together.

The proximity is overwhelming, his warmth seeping through the space between you, grounding and intoxicating at the same time. You can feel the subtle brush of his arm against yours. The scent of him, soft peaches, lingers in the air, and each detail heightens your awareness of him, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

The silence between you stretches, his eyes holding yours as his hand reaches out, fingers brushing softly against your wrist. He slides the hair tie from your hand, his touch deliberate, steady, igniting a tingling warmth that spreads through you.

Without a word, he gathers your hair gently, his fingers working it into a loose, careful hold, his movements precise yet tender. The way he pulls the tie over your hair feels intimate, his fingers grazing your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as he finishes, his hand lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Thank—thank you,” you manage, voice barely above a whisper, feeling an inexplicable rush of warmth at the simple, quiet closeness of the moment.

He smiles, his gaze tracing over you, lingering on the way your hair falls loosely around your shoulders. “You look… different with your hair up,” he murmurs, his eyes dipping to your neck. “You should wear it like that more often.”

You try to respond, but your words stumble over each other, caught in the quiet storm of his attention. “I… I usually… thank you,” you manage, feeling the heat bloom across your cheeks, acutely aware of how vulnerable you feel under his gaze.

It’s strange, feeling so affected by him. You’ve always been the one in control, the one who never falters, but here, in this quiet, dimly lit room, it’s as if he has stripped away every layer, leaving you open, raw, trembling with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity.

“So,” he says, his voice breaking the silence, smooth and warm, “what do you need help with?”

He looks down at your camera, piecing together your intentions with a quiet, knowing smile, and you find yourself blurting out, “Can I… take some photos of you? For one of my projects?”

He holds your gaze, nodding slowly. “Yes,” he answers, his voice steady, unhesitating, as if he’s saying yes to more than just the photos.

You stand, adjusting the lighting, switching off the main lights and leaving only the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting warm shadows across the room. The light caresses his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips, the quiet strength in his posture. It feels like he belongs here, in this softened light, like he’s made for this moment, this intimacy.

You lift the camera, heart pounding as you look through the lens, capturing the way his eyes follow you, calm and steady, a hint of curiosity flickering in their depths. He’s not just a subject; he’s something real, something grounding, something that makes your breath catch with every click of the shutter.

Zooming in closer, you focus on the details — the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheek, the hint of stubble along his jaw, the relaxed curve of his lips. You feel your pulse quicken, each shot a quiet revelation, a piece of him you’re allowed to see, a vulnerability he’s offering willingly.

“Come closer,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle command, pulling you deeper into the moment. You step closer, the distance between you disappearing, and he leans back, spreading his arms casually along the headboard, letting his head fall back slightly, exposing the soft line of his neck. It’s an invitation, a silent offering, and you capture it, feeling your heart stutter with every shot.

At one point, he reaches out, fingers brushing the lens, then your hand, his touch light but grounding, making your hands tremble. His eyes meet yours, his voice soft, almost reverent. “Can I see what you’ve taken?”

You flip the camera around, showing him, and he studies each shot, his gaze intense, thoughtful, a quiet pride flickering in his eyes. “These are… they’re really good,” he says, his voice laced with something deeper, something that feels like admiration

Your cheeks flush, and you look away, stammering, “It’s… it’s nothing. Just… I mean, it’s easy to get good shots when—” You stop, feeling the words catch in your throat, the compliment feeling almost too much to say aloud.

Mark’s gaze softens as he watches you, a quiet, understanding smile spreading across his face. “When?” he prompts, leaning in slightly, his voice coaxing but gentle, waiting patiently for you to finish.

You hesitate, feeling your heart race, before managing, “When the person in front of the camera… makes it easy.” The words are quiet, barely more than a whisper, but he hears them, his eyes darkening just a bit, a flicker of something deeper passing over his face.

He doesn’t look away. Instead, he reaches out again, fingertips brushing lightly along the side of the camera, his touch grazing yours. “You know, you should give yourself more credit for how gifted you are. You have a real eye for photography and capturing the scene, I just wish you’d realise that,” he murmurs, a note of awe in his voice. “It’s like you capture more than just what’s in front of you.” His hand finds yours, fingers wrapping around yours gently, grounding and intimate.

The silence that settles around you is thick with unspoken understanding, a closeness that feels as though it’s been building since the moment you stepped into the room. He lowers his hand but keeps his gaze on you, his eyes soft, searching. The air between you grows still, and you’re aware of every breath, every slight shift in the mattress beneath you, the scent of him lingering around you, warm and inviting.

It feels like he’s going to kiss you, but instead, he breaks the moment with a small grin, tilting his head as he looks at you. He reaches for the camera in your hands, fingers brushing yours as he takes it.

“Your turn,” he says, his voice warm, coaxing. “Let me take a few of you.”

You hesitate, glancing at the camera and then back at him, unsure, feeling the flush deepen in your cheeks. But he just smiles, steady and reassuring. “I want to see you… as you are,” he murmurs, his tone genuine, his gaze holding an invitation you can’t quite resist.

He shifts closer, his hand gently guiding your shoulders back, adjusting your posture with a care that’s both comforting and intimate. “Here… just relax,” he says softly, his fingers lingering briefly on your shoulder before moving to rest gently on your waist, positioning you as he wants. You feel a warmth radiate from his touch, a grounding sensation that makes it hard to breathe steadily.

“Relax,” he says again, his voice low, soothing, his gaze focused on you as if you’re the only thing in the room. “Just be yourself. That’s all I’m asking.” His fingers adjust the angle of your arm, his thumb brushing along your wrist as he guides you into a natural, comfortable pose. The intensity in his gaze makes you feel like he’s peeling back every layer, seeing something raw and true beneath your surface.

He lifts the camera, snapping a few shots, his focus unwavering. “That’s perfect,” he murmurs, his eyes flicking from the viewfinder to you, his smile soft, encouraging. “Just like that.” There’s a quiet reverence in his tone, as if he’s in awe, like he’s seeing you in a way no one else ever has.

You shift, self-conscious, and he moves even closer, reaching out to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering at your temple. “You don’t have to hold back,” he says, voice low and close. “Just let go, Y/N. It’s only me.” His words sink in, their honesty disarming, making you feel safe, and you can’t help but let a small smile break through, the tension in your shoulders easing.

Mark smiles, his voice soft as he captures another shot. “See? You’re beautiful, exactly as you are,” he says, the words genuine, quiet, like he’s saying them more to himself than to you. His hand finds your shoulder again, his thumb brushing in a light, comforting circle as he adjusts the angle, his touch steadying you.

His gaze never wavers, and in the silence, he murmurs, “You make this look easy, you know that?” His fingers trail gently along your collarbone, adjusting your posture, his hand lingering just a moment longer than necessary, a warmth seeping through his touch.

“Mark…” you whisper, unsure of what to say, your voice barely audible.

Mark’s gaze holds steady, an unwavering confidence in his eyes as he lifts the camera and gives a slight nod. “Take off your sweater,” he says, voice low, almost a soft command. There’s no hesitation, no room for second-guessing in his tone, just a quiet assurance that makes your heart race.

“Mark?” you murmur, uncertain, searching his expression, feeling a flicker of nerves.

He smirks, the corner of his mouth tugging up in that playful, knowing way of his. “It’s for the sake of art,” he insists, a teasing edge to his voice. “You can’t argue with me on that.”

You feel a rush of heat spread through your cheeks, his words emboldening you. His gaze is steady, encouraging, his confidence somehow reassuring, and you find yourself trusting him, letting go of your hesitation. 

The sweater slips from your fingers and pools on the floor, leaving you in nothing but a lace bra, delicate and sheer, hugging your curves and revealing just enough to make the air between you feel electric. The lace clings to your skin, delicate patterns stretching across your chest, faintly exposing the shape of your breasts, the soft rise and fall with each breath, and the subtle peak of your nipples through the fabric. You can feel the cool air prickling your skin, heightening every sensation, every nerve ending alive under his gaze.

Mark’s eyes travel over you, lingering at the curves, the shadows, his gaze tracing every inch like he’s committing it to memory. His breath catches, almost imperceptibly, as his eyes roam over the lace, lingering at the exposed skin along your collarbone, dipping lower to take in the lines of your waist, the softness of your stomach. There’s a sharpness in his gaze, an intensity, but it’s the way his jaw tightens, the way his throat bobs with a quiet swallow that reveals the effect you’re having on him.

The camera hangs loosely in his hands, momentarily forgotten as he studies you, his gaze darkening with each second. You feel the weight of his attention, the way his eyes roam over the gentle curve of your hips, the delicate arch of your ribcage, as if he’s savoring every detail, reluctant to let any part of you go unnoticed.

He raises the camera again, and the click of the shutter feels heavier this time, intimate. With each shot, you feel more exposed, more seen. His silence speaks louder than any words, each subtle shift in his posture, each lingering look, making you feel like you’re the only thing that matters in the room.

Mark’s voice is a low, commanding whisper. “Take everything else off.”

You feel a surge of heat rush through you, your fingers lingering at the hem of your bra as you meet his gaze, challenging, steady. “You want me to strip for you?” Your voice carries a daring edge, matching the intensity of his.

You don’t wait for him to respond or to take all of the control. Instead, you lean in, grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him down with a force that matches the heat between you, crashing your lips into his. The kiss is raw, hungry, unrestrained, a fierce claim that leaves no space for hesitation. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, your nails dragging across his skin, feeling the hard muscle tense beneath as your touch ignites a fire between you both. His jaw clenches under your grip, and you let your lips roam, biting and sucking along the line of his neck, relishing the way his breath hitches, the way his body reacts to every bold touch, every demanding kiss.

He lets out a low growl, meeting your fervour, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies are pressed tight, his breath hot against your mouth. The kiss is messy, fierce, a clash of teeth and tongues, meeting each other’s roughness head-on. His hand finds your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp, and he takes advantage of the moment, pressing deeper, his tongue tracing over yours, tasting you with a hunger that’s as consuming as it is electric. Every movement is rough, every touch searing. 

You push him back, guiding him down onto the bed as you climb over him, pressing him firmly against the mattress. Your hands trace over his chest, feeling every line and curve of muscle, savouring the way his body responds to your touch. His hands grip your hips with a rough urgency, holding you close as you begin to grind against him, the friction between you intense and undeniable. The movement sends waves of heat through you, a building pressure that makes you both gasp, your bodies finding a rhythm together, every shift and grind drawing you closer.

You press down onto him, moving your hips in a steady rhythm, feeling the hardness beneath you, his body responding to each shift, each movement. There’s a delicious pressure that builds with every grind, his hands pressing firmly into your hips, guiding you, encouraging you to press even closer. The rough fabric of his jeans adds to the sensation, intensifying the friction, making each rock of your hips a mix of pressure and heat. You can feel his breath hitch, his body tensing beneath yours, every low groan that escapes him spurring you on, the sounds blending with your own gasps as you both lose yourselves in the feeling, the closeness, the raw connection building between you.

Your mouth finds his neck, leaving a trail of kisses as you rock against him, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, the low, raw sounds escaping from both of you. His hands press into your skin, pulling you against him with each grind, the friction building, your moans filling the air as you lose yourselves in the rhythm, a desperate, unrestrained connection as you both give in completely.

Without breaking away, you slide your hands down, gripping the hem of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as you start to lift it. There’s a sense of urgency in your movements, a building anticipation that makes your pulse race, but just as you begin to pull his shirt up, his hands catch your wrists, stopping you with a firm but gentle grip.

“Not yet,” he whispers, his breath warm against your lips as he leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss there. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intense, searching. “I want to know more about you… everything you’re willing to tell me.” His words are quiet but hold a weight, a sincerity that sinks deep, leaving you feeling bare in a way that has nothing to do with clothes.

His steady gaze holds yours, and you feel your confident act slipping away, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. There’s a warmth in his eyes, a sense of safety that makes you want to open up, to let him in, even though sharing yourself hasn’t always come easily.

You hum softly, nodding, and he continues, his voice low and inviting. “Let’s play a game, hm? Tell me something about yourself that you’ve never told anyone, and for each secret, you get to take off one piece of my clothes.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, and you nod, feeling oddly comfortable, the way he looks at you making you feel secure, protected. Normally, you’d hesitate to let anyone in this close, but with him, it feels right, natural, as if he’s creating a space for you to share, to be yourself without judgment.

You take a breath, gathering your thoughts. “Alright… here’s one,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “When I was a kid, I used to sneak out at night, just to take photos of the sky and all of the constellations. I’d sit outside for hours. That's how my love for photography started. It was when I felt safest and most at peace.”

He smiles, the warmth in his eyes deepening, and without a word, he leans in, brushing his lips softly against yours, a tender kiss that holds a quiet reverence. You take the moment, slipping your hands under his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, letting it fall to the floor. He looks at you, bare-chested, his skin warm, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath.

You take him in, the lean lines of his torso revealed in the dim light. His skin is smooth and inviting, the muscles of his chest subtly defined, rising and falling with each steady breath. Your eyes trace the lines of his collarbone, down to the toned plane of his chest, where each contour hints at both strength and vulnerability.

You smile, feeling the intimacy between you grow, and decide to lighten the moment with your next fact. “Alright, here’s a weird one… I’m terrified of carrots,” you admit with a shy laugh, “and I have no idea why. It’s irrational.”

He chuckles, his laugh low and soft, his eyes crinkling with amusement. You giggle too, your laughter spilling over as you kiss him again, the lightheartedness making the moment feel even more genuine, more real. You climb off him for a second, struggling playfully as you work on unzipping his jeans, and he lifts his hips, sliding them off and tossing them to the floor with a grin.

In one quick motion, he pulls you back on top of him, his hands finding your thighs as he guides you down, holding you close. You start to grind against him again, you’re unable to resist. Your breaths mingle, a delicious friction building as you press down onto him, the heat between you intensifying. His hard length presses through the thin material of his boxers, and you let out a soft, high-pitched moan, feeling your own body respond, your hips moving of their own accord.

“You still have one more fact to tell me,” he murmurs, his voice teasing, his lips brushing your ear as he smirks, clearly enjoying how distracted you’re becoming.

You bite your lip, your hands splayed against his chest as you try to focus, the warmth of his body beneath you making it hard to think. He leans in close, his voice a low murmur. “You know, you haven’t even been fucked by my cock and you’re already this needy…”

As you reach the last barrier of his clothing, a sigh of relief escapes you. Your hands tremble slightly with anticipation as they move towards the zip on his jeans. But before you can pull it down, his hands clamp over yours, stopping you. His grip is firm, his expression stern yet amused by your obvious eagerness.

You pout deeply, frustration and desire mingling on your face. “I’ve told you enough, please take off your pants.”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your desperation. “I don’t know, I think I’m going to need a little more detail, baby. What about being dominated do you like so much?” 

Caught off guard by his insistence on understanding your desires, you falter for a moment before admitting, “I like being pinned down,” your eyes flicking to his arms, imagining them restraining you, the thought alone sending a thrill through you.

“And what else?” he presses, leaning in closer.

“I like being slapped, spit on, choked, being fucked dumb. I just like feeling like I’ve completely lost control and the guy on top takes it,” you confess, your voice a whisper of raw honesty.

He smirks, his voice dropping to a seductive growl. “Oh, is that what you want from me? You want me to hold you down and fuck you so hard you forget your own name? You want me to use you, throw you around?”

You nod vigorously, “Mhm, now can I have your cock, pleaseee?” your whisper laden with need.

“I don’t know, it feels like there’s something you’re holding back,” he teases, his hands loosening their hold on yours, his own patience wearing thin as his desire builds.

Your cheeks burn with a blush as you quietly mumble, “I have a daddy kink…” His eyebrows raise slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement but he doesn’t comment, simply shakes his head in feigned disbelief and finally unzips his jeans.

You don’t waste any time, you pull down his boxers and his cock springs free, thick and hard, its sheer size both thrilling and nearly overwhelming. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening as you take in every inch, every pulse seeming to echo the growing need inside you. Vulnerability and desire mix within you, and you can’t tear your gaze away, the sight stirring something deep and all-consuming. A quiet gasp slips past your lips, your cheeks flushing as the thought of him inside you settles heavily, making you ache.

The moment stretches, your anticipation growing unbearable, and before you can stop yourself, a loud, needy moan escapes, filling the room with the raw, unfiltered sound of your desire. It shocks you, how loudly you moaned, as if your body was acting on its own, unable to contain just how badly you need him. The sound reverberates in the quiet space, and even as you try to stifle it, the moans keep slipping out. Your eyes drink in every detail of his cock, your body throbbing with hunger and anticipation that knots in your stomach, urging you closer.

Your mouth waters as you stare, the craving growing stronger with every second. You trace the length of him with wide eyes, the thickness and veins seeming almost unreal, the girth larger than anything you’d imagined. The head is flushed, every throb pulsing with a heat that leaves you dizzy. “Fuck—fuck,” you whimper, voice trembling as disbelief and raw hunger mix in the words. You can barely believe the size, the thickness that promises to fill every part of you, your body reacting instinctively, the longing drawing you closer to him.

Mark chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement as he catches your reaction. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Not what you expected?” he asks, voice low and teasing, full of a quiet confidence that makes your cheeks burn even more.

You shake your head, feeling a shy smile forming as you bite back a small “no,” your voice barely above a whisper. “Respectfully,” you add, voice trembling, “nice guys don’t have big cocks.” The words spill out, almost involuntarily, your gaze still locked on him, unable to look away, entranced.

He chuckles again, shaking his head, his smirk deepening as he watches you. “Who said I’m a nice guy?” he murmurs, the words carrying a promise that sends a thrill through you. You don’t realise it now, but you’re going to regret saying that.

“Come here,” he whispers, his voice rough but soft, drawing you closer with a gentle pull. His hands slide up your back, finding the clasp of your bra, and in one smooth movement, he unhooks it. His gaze is dark and intense as the fabric slips away, his eyes fixated on the way your breasts fall free, the soft curve of your skin catching the low light. His lips part slightly, and you catch the way his breathing hitches, almost like he’s savoring the sight. 

He doesn’t rush, doesn’t speak. Instead, his hands come up, fingers tracing along the swell of your chest before letting his palms cup and lift, making you gasp at the warmth and firmness of his touch. Each bounce, each subtle movement seems to captivate him, his gaze drinking in every detail as though he’s committing it to memory.

He doesn’t hold back, guiding your hips firmly as he slides your jeans and lace thong down in one fluid motion, leaving you both fully naked. You’re seated on his lap now, feeling every inch of his body pressed against yours, the heat between you almost unbearable. His cock rests beneath you, thick and solid, pressing up against your warmth, and you feel a pang of anticipation, desire twisting in your stomach. He watches you with a patient hunger, his hands resting at your hips, giving you the space to take him at your own pace.

Slowly, you begin to lower yourself, feeling the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, stretching you in a way that feels almost impossible. As you sink down, the sheer size of him has you gasping, his girth filling every inch, forcing your body to accommodate his length. You feel yourself stretch around him, the pressure building as you inch lower, and a strangled moan escapes your lips. 

The fullness is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and an ache that borders on pain, and your hands grip his shoulders as if you’re afraid to let go. “God,” you whisper, barely able to speak. You stare at him in disbelief, feeling the sheer depth and thickness of him, every inch stretching you in ways you’ve never experienced. You’ve had a lot of sex, but you’ve never felt anything this big, this deep inside of you. Your voice trembles as you struggle to find words, the overwhelming sensation making it hard to breathe.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you adjust to him, your body reacting to the way he fills you so completely. “You’re… so big,” you murmur, voice cracking as your breathing quickens. Each inch you take seems to stretch you further, filling you more than you thought possible. He’s thick, almost too much to handle, and yet you can’t stop yourself from wanting every bit of him.

Mark’s gaze softens, a flicker of pride in his eyes as he watches the way you shake on top of him. His hands slide up to cradle your face, thumbs gently brushing away the tears that slip down your cheeks. He leans forward, his lips brushing your ear, and whispers softly, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” His voice is gentle, almost soothing, and his breath is warm against your skin. “Take your time, baby… let me feel you.”

Before you can fully adjust, he shifts his grip on your hips, and in one fluid motion, he flips the two of you, rolling you onto your back beneath him. The world spins for a brief second, your heart racing as you feel his weight press down, grounding you. His hands find your hips again, holding you steady, his eyes dark with intent as he leans over you, a soft smirk playing on his lips. You’re breathless, the depth of him now more intense as he angles himself above you, his gaze locked on yours as he slowly presses deeper

As he presses into you, the stretch is intense, nearly overwhelming. You feel the fullness, but it’s too much, and the ache borders on pain. Your hands fly up to cover your face as it twists in discomfort, trying to absorb the pressure and failing. “Mark, I—‘too big.’” You breathe out, barely able to get the words out as they’re forced through shallow gasps.

Mark looks down at you with the utmost care, his gaze soft and full of patience. He slides his cock out slowly, each inch easing the pressure, and it doesn’t take long—he’s barely inside of you. “That’s okay,” he whispers, voice low and comforting, brushing a few stray hairs from your face as you breathe deeply, trying to steady yourself. “We’ll just try again.” His words are so gentle, filled with such affection that it makes you dizzy, and you can’t help the small, shaky whimper that escapes you as you nod.

You look up at him, eyes searching his face, and he leans in close, pressing a soft, grounding kiss to your lips, his hands finding yours and gripping them firmly. “You think if I eat you out, it’ll make it easier for me to fuck you?” he murmurs, voice teasing, lips brushing yours. 

You pout, feeling the need still thrumming inside you, and sigh, “Just want your cock.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he kisses you again, trailing down your body. “And it’s all yours… just be patient with me, okay?” he whispers, his voice laced with warmth and care. He moves down, positioning his head in between your thighs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours one last time as his grip on your hand remains, grounding you. His other hand slides up your thigh, fingers pressing firmly as he pushes your legs wider, his touch sending a thrill through you.

Without another word, his mouth descends on you, his tongue flicking over your clit with a deliberate, rough pressure that makes you gasp, every nerve ending igniting under his touch. His mouth moves with an intensity that’s both passionate and unyielding, his tongue tracing slow, sensual circles before pressing firmly, flicking against you with a skill that sends jolts of pleasure straight through your core. He doesn’t let up, lips sealing around your clit, sucking softly, then harder, dragging you deeper into bliss with every motion. Your hips buck against his face, desperate for more, and he growls softly in response, the vibration sending shivers up your spine as he anchors you in place, his grip firm and possessive.

You tug harder on his hair, pulling him even closer, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sinks his tongue inside you, thrusting and curling with a rhythm that leaves you gasping. He moves rougher, his tongue pressing deeper, tasting you with a hunger that’s almost primal, his hands sliding up to keep your thighs spread wide as he devours you, lost in the moment. Your legs tighten around his shoulders, locking him in place, and he responds with even more intensity, mouth working you harder, deeper, his lips brushing against your slick skin as his tongue finds your clit again, circling it with maddening precision.

With one final, perfectly timed flick of his tongue, the tension snaps, and you’re sent spiraling over the edge. Your body arches, shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, each pulse more intense than the last. Mark stays exactly where he is, his mouth locked on you, drawing out every last tremor, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from your body. His hands grip your thighs, possessive and steady, keeping you firmly in place as he savors every second of your release.

Even as your body goes limp beneath him, trembling and breathless, his tongue continues its slow, gentle strokes, easing you down from the high, until you’re left blissfully spent in his hands, every nerve tingling in the aftermath.

Mark’s gaze darkens as he presses a wet, lingering kiss right against your core. The way his tongue flicks over you sends an involuntary shiver up your spine, his mouth exploring you with slow, deliberate attention. His lips leave you breathless, a mix of pleasure and anticipation curling through your body as he pulls back, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth.

He straightens up, positioning himself at your entrance, his hand gripping your thigh firmly. “Ready for me again, baby?” he murmurs, voice a husky promise as he holds your gaze. With a slow, steady push, he slides inside, inch by inch, letting you feel the stretch, the delicious pressure as he fills you. His eyes flicker with intensity, every movement calculated, controlled. A low, satisfied groan escapes him as he presses further, savoring every moment as he sinks deeper, letting you feel every inch.

His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, the warmth of his mouth contrasting with the steady pressure below. “You feel so good,” he whispers against your lips, his words a low, soothing hum. His thrusts remain slow and unhurried, each one pushing deeper, brushing every sensitive spot, his cock moving with deliberate precision, heightening every sensation. His hand trails up, cradling the back of your neck as he kisses you again, letting the intensity build in the rhythm he sets, every movement designed to keep you on the edge, drawing out your pleasure with each slow, consuming thrust.

You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you, the combination of his gentle encouragement and the feeling of him stretching you making you feel vulnerable and cherished all at once. He watches you intently, his gaze darkening as he feels you around him. “God, you’re so tight for me,” he murmurs, his voice a low, rough whisper that sends a shiver through you. His hands grip your waist, holding you firmly as he moves slowly, letting you feel the full stretch, every inch of him pressing deeper, unhurried and deliberate.

“You’re filling me so perfectly,” you murmur, barely able to keep your voice steady, each slow, deliberate thrust making you shiver. “Please, don’t stop… I want all of you.” The words spill from your lips in a quiet plea, your body arching into him, craving the closeness, the depth.

He presses a tender kiss to your jaw, trailing soft kisses down your neck as you adjust to him, each movement sending a wave of pleasure through you. His hands rest at your waist, guiding you with a patience that contrasts the intensity of the moment. “Look at you,” he murmurs softly, a hint of awe in his voice. “Taking me so well like you were made for me.”

He hovers above you, his hands pressing firmly against your hips to keep you in place as he rolls his hips forward, each subtle movement drawing a soft cry from you. His touch is steady, grounding, his gaze fixed on yours with a smirk tugging at his lips. Leaning down, his mouth brushes against your ear, his breath warm and thick with satisfaction. “Just like that,” he whispers, voice low and controlled, laced with pride. “I knew you could take me… you’re doing so well.” His lips hover near your ear, his words fanning over your skin, deep and reassuring. He inches in further, each slow thrust emphasising the stretch, pushing you to feel every bit of him.

He groans softly, his lips capturing yours in a brief, hungry kiss, his mouth warm and possessive before he pulls back. With painstaking slowness, he sinks into you again, inch by inch, the stretch intense as your body instinctively tightens around him. Every shift of his hips sends a spark of pleasure coursing through you, his cock pressing deeper, thick and pulsing, letting you feel the full weight of him as he takes his time.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, voice rough with desire, his grip firm on your hips as he holds you steady. The deliberate pace keeps you teetering on the edge, the friction building as he fills you completely with each slow, controlled thrust. Unable to hold back, you lift your hips to meet his movements, grinding up against him, seeking more. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging in as you move with him, matching the rhythm he’s set, each roll of your hips bringing him deeper, sparking pleasure that leaves you gasping.

Your breath catches as you rock against him, the ache of desire driving you to push up, to take him further, your body arching in response to every deliberate thrust. “Please,” you whisper, the need undeniable as you move under him, craving the fullness, the heat of his skin against yours. Your breath catches, body arching instinctively, craving more, needing him to fill you fully. But he keeps his pace torturously steady, making you feel every inch as he fills you, pulling back just enough to leave you aching.

A low groan escapes him as he watches you, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth. “You want me to go harder, don’t you?” His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing over your skin as he holds you steady, grounding you beneath him, each touch leaving a warmth that only makes you crave him more.

You nod, lips parted in a soft gasp, eyes pleading. “Yes.” You whisper, voice trembling, the word escaping you in a quiet, desperate plea. “I need more…”

He smirks as he leans close, his breath hot against your skin, his voice a low, intoxicating growl. "I know how much you need it," he murmurs, each word dripping with control, teasing you with every deliberate thrust. The way he fills you-inch by inch-stretches you in a way that has your body clenching desperately around him, pushing you closer to the edge with every slow, deep movement.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, clutching onto him, your breaths ragged as you finally let the word spill from your lips, barely a whisper. "Please, daddy," you gasp, voice trembling with need, the desperation in your tone sparking a darker look in his eyes. 

"That’s my good girl," he growls. The slow, torturous build finally shatters as he lets go, hips snapping forward with a force that has you gasping, every thrust deeper, harder. His grip on you is firm, fingers digging into your skin as he watches you tremble, a possessive edge in his gaze as he fills you again and again.

“God, look at you,” he growls, voice thick with satisfaction, eyes heavy with desire. “Taking every inch… like you’re made for me.” His voice is low, a murmur that’s somehow gentle despite the roughness of his thrusts. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, his pace relentless, the force of each thrust making you moan, your cries mixing with his own low groans.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he chuckles softly, taking in the desperate whimpers escaping you. “I know, baby,” he murmurs, the mockery gone, his voice softer, filled with something deeper. “I’ve got you… don’t worry.” He pushes into you deeper, grinding his hips in a way that has you arching, needing every inch.

“Please… don’t stop,” you gasp, voice breaking as he pounds into you, his movements leaving you breathless, your body clinging to his as he fills you again and again, rougher, harder, until the tension is unbearable.

He watches you, his gaze warm yet possessive, hand slipping down to press between your thighs, fingers teasing as he brings you closer to the edge. “Such a tight pussy,” he breathes, voice low and reverent as he watches you fall apart beneath him, his hands gripping your thighs to spread you open as he drives into you with raw, unrelenting force. “So beautiful… so perfect.”

His hips slam into you with an unrestrained rhythm, each thrust harder and faster than the last, sending shockwaves through your body. Your legs tighten around his waist, locking him in as he finds that perfect angle, hitting it relentlessly, making you see stars. The pleasure is overwhelming, building with every stroke, your body arching up to meet his as he drives deeper, every inch filling you completely, stretching you in ways that make you gasp. Your nails scrape down his back as you cling to him, losing all control, the sensation pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your breath catches, turning into desperate, breathless moans that rise in pitch as he keeps going, unrelenting. You feel yourself spiralling, every nerve on fire as the tension coils tight. Just when you can’t hold back anymore, his pace quickens, and you scream his name. “Oh god, yes! Right there.” The sounds that release from you were raw and uncontrolled, echoing around you as your body clenches around him, your release crashing over you in waves. He doesn’t stop, his thrusts hard and deep, riding out every pulse, keeping you suspended in that overwhelming high, both of you completely lost in each other.

“Look at me,” he coaxes, his thumb brushing over your hip as he pulls back slightly before sinking back in, his gaze locked onto yours, absorbing each gasp that escapes your lips. He presses his hand down on your lower stomach, a bulge forming beneath his palm as he fills you to the hilt. “You feel me here?” he murmurs, voice thick, watching your reaction as the pressure intensifies. “That’s all for you.” The sensation makes you tremble, every nerve coming alive under his touch, grounding you in the overwhelming intensity of each slow, deep movement.

“I could stay like this forever, buried inside you,” he says, each word reverberating through you as his hand stays firm against your stomach, feeling every thrust. His hands glide up your back, pulling you closer, his lips capturing yours in a gentle kiss that contrasts the raw intensity below. “I want you to feel every inch, baby,” he whispers, his gaze never leaving yours, rocking into you deeply, each stroke unhurried but consuming. “This is all for you.”

The pressure builds, overwhelming and all-consuming, and you feel yourself clenching tighter around him, unable to hold back. “I’m gonna cum,” you gasp, your voice breaking as the words tumble out, raw and desperate. The sensation is electric, each thrust pushing you closer, and he grips your hips, pulling you down to meet him with every powerful stroke.

“Do it,” he growls, his voice thick with need, his gaze locked onto yours as he watches you unravel. His movements quicken, his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you to the limit, and just as your release crashes over you, he lets go, spilling into you as he presses deep, holding you against him. The heat of his release fills you, his moans low and guttural as he pulses within you, every inch of him flooding you completely, and you tremble beneath him, gasping for air as the waves of pleasure leave you both breathless and spent.

“Good girl,” he whispers against your lips, his voice soft yet filled with a lingering possessiveness that leaves you flustered, speechless, and overwhelmed by the intensity of what just happened. The warmth of his touch, the weight of his gaze—it all feels so intimate, so unlike anything you’ve experienced before.

Before you know it, he’s lifting you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly to the shower. The warmth of the water surrounds you as he gently cleans you, his hands moving with a tender care that soothes every aching muscle. He massages your shoulders, trails body wash over your skin, and you feel completely cared for in his embrace. This is new, this level of affection and attention after something so intense. With Jeno, it was always straight to sleep, never this depth. But with Mark, you find yourself spending the night held close, his arms wrapped around you, feeling safe, satisfied, and genuinely cherished for the first time in a long while.

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The morning sun spilled gently through the curtains, casting a soft glow that illuminated the room with a warm, amber light. You were wrapped securely in Mark’s arms, the comforting presence of his body intertwined with yours under the soft sheets. For the first time in ages, you woke feeling completely at peace, savoring the best sleep you’d had in so long. The thought flickered through your mind that you could definitely get used to mornings like this.

However, tranquility shattered the instant you opened your eyes and saw Karina standing at the foot of the bed, her eyes wide and fixed on both of you. Panic surged through your veins, and a scream escaped your lips, sharp and loud. Karina, equally startled, screamed back, the sound echoing in the small room.

Mark, awoken by the commotion, sat up abruptly. His eyes darted to Karina, but he remained silent, assessing the situation with a calm that contrasted sharply with the chaos of the moment.

She stood frozen, her eyes darting between you and Mark, her expression a complex tapestry of shock, confusion, and something deeper—perhaps hurt. The air felt charged, heavy with words unspoken and questions unasked.

“Karina, I—” Your voice broke as you scrambled for words, the initial panic giving way to a deep-seated embarrassment. You clutched the sheet to your chest, acutely aware of your nakedness.

Mark’s hand found yours under the sheets, giving a reassuring squeeze. Unlike your visible distress, he remained unnervingly calm, his gaze steady on Karina. “It’s not what it looks like,” You started, but the cliché sounded hollow even to your own ears.

Karina’s eyebrows knitted together, her expression a mix of confusion and hurt as she struggled to find the right words. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, the struggle evident in her face. Finally, managing to push past the lump in her throat, she asked in a choked voice, “How long?”

You could feel Mark tense beside you, the muscles in his body tightening as he absorbed the weight of her question, laden with implications and unspoken accusations. He remained silent, however, allowing you to handle the conversation, understanding his unfamiliarity with Karina meant it was not his place to speak.

“Only once, we’ve only fucked once so far.” You began, your voice soft, attempting to keep the situation calm, “can we talk about this outside?” The bedsheet clutched tightly in your hands, you tried to convey sincerity, hoping she’d agree to a more private discussion away from the charged atmosphere of the bedroom.

You watched as Karina’s gaze shifted to you, her eyes searching yours. There was a sadness there, deep and poignant, hinting at more than just the shock of the discovery. Swallowing hard, you slipped from the bed, wrapping yourself in the sheet and stepping toward her.

“Please, Karina, don’t tell anyone,” you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hands reached out, touching her arm lightly. “I know this is a lot, but we didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

You grabbed Karina’s hand, the urgency to maintain privacy pressing upon you. With a gentle tug, you led her towards the door, placing a finger to your lips to signal the need for silence. Together, you tiptoed across the room, your whispers merging with the soft creaks of the floorboards, ensuring your voices remained low enough to evade Mark’s ears.

Karina’s mood shifted abruptly, leaving you momentarily disoriented as her shock morphed into a whirlwind of excitement. Her hands came together with a clap, her eyes widening with a childlike glee as she squealed, “How did this happen?”

You laughed, the sound mingling with a sigh of relief. Though you weren’t entirely sure if her excitement was genuine, it was certainly a welcome change from the suspicion and disappointment. “He just came to my room, and we started talking, and one thing led to another,” you mumbled, keeping your voice low, still half-wrapped in the sheet.

You let out a breath, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you recalled the unexpected turn of events. “It was unexpected, he sked if he could help with my assignment, so I said yeah. I took photos of him, and then he took my camera and started taking photos of me. He asked me to take my clothes off, and yeah… it just went off from there.”

Her eyes widened even further, and she gasped dramatically, leaning in closer. “His cock?”

You stifled a moan at the memory, nodding slightly at her unspoken question. “It’s so big.”

“And how was he?” Karina leaned in, her curiosity piqued as if she were gathering details for a juicy story.

“He was good, yeah, really good,” you confessed, your cheeks heating up as you remembered the intensity. “He definitely knows how to handle a girl. Clearly not his first time.” You paused, biting your lip as you considered how much to share. “And… he was holding back a bit because, you know, it was a lot for me at first. It took a few tries for him to even get fully inside of me.”

Karina’s eyes sparkled with a mix of astonishment and amusement. “So, are you guys, like, a thing now, or was this a one-time thing?”

You hesitated, the reality of the situation settling in. “I’m not sure yet. We haven’t really defined anything. It just happened so fast, and now I’m trying to wrap my head around it all.” A rush of boldness swept over you as you added, “But honestly, I wouldn’t mind fucking him more. He feels really good inside of me.”

Karina nodded, her expression turning a tad more serious. “Just be careful, okay? I mean, it’s exciting and all, but don’t get swept away without considering the consequences.”

You appreciated her concern, knowing it stemmed from a place of friendship and care. “I will,” you assured her, feeling a mixture of gratitude and caution. “Thanks, Karina. It means a lot to have you looking out for me.”

After reassuring Karina that you would catch up with her properly later, you offer her a smile as she heads downstairs to grab some breakfast. The moment she’s out of sight, you let out a deep sigh of relief and make your way back into the bedroom. The air feels heavy, saturated with the lingering tension of the earlier encounter.

Mark is still lying in bed, his eyes closed, seemingly lost in thought or perhaps trying to grasp the remnants of sleep. As you approach, he senses your presence and without opening his eyes, reaches out to pull you back into the warmth of his embrace. His skin is warm against yours, but it does little to soothe the chill of apprehension that has crept into your bones. Gently, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, a silent reassurance amidst the storm of emotions.

“All okay?” he whispers, his voice low and concerned as he pulls you closer, seeking to envelop you in his security.

You nod against his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing steadying your own. “Yeah, I just told her not to tell anyone until we figure out what this is.” Your voice is a mix of determination and worry, echoing the complexity of your feelings.

He sighs, a sound that carries a mix of relief and something else—perhaps resignation or a touch of dread for the complications yet to come. “Okay, good,” he murmurs, his arms tightening around you as if to fortify you both against the challenges ahead.

As you lay there, tucked into Mark’s embrace, the room fills with a silence that speaks louder than words. The conversation with Karina, while out of earshot, hangs over you like a specter, its implications darkening the edges of this quiet moment. The reality of your situation, of the secret you now both carried, was weighty and complex. You wonder about the fragility of this newfound attraction you had for Mark, about how the truth, once disclosed, might alter everything.

His steady heartbeat against your ear is a constant reminder of the present, of the choices you’ve made, and the ones still looming ahead. Mark’s hand moves to stroke your hair gently, a soothing gesture that belies the anxiety that you both feel. “Stop worrying and just close your eyes, get some sleep,” he says soothingly, his voice a calming balm. “I got you.”

You press closer, feeling the heat of his naked body against yours, a vivid reminder of how you fucked earlier even after your bath, when you both surrendered to a series of intense, passionate rounds. “Okay,” you whisper back, letting the firmness of his embrace and the sincerity in his words soothe you towards sleep.

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The cool autumn air nipped at your skin as you made your way to the gymnasium for another away match. Despite the warmth and safety you had felt wrapped in Mark’s arms earlier that morning, reality beckoned. The game was due to start within the hour, and the atmosphere around the court was buzzing with anticipation.

As you approached, the scene unfolded vibrantly before you. The team was already on the court, running drills and warming up with a focused intensity. Nearby, your fellow cheerleaders were gathered, practicing their routines and cheering, their voices rising in synchronized chants that filled the air with excitement.

You slipped into your cheer uniform with a sense of resignation, feeling the familiar snugness of the sleek, blue and gold ensemble that hugged your figure and ended in a flared skirt. Although the outfit usually made you feel pretty and empowered, today it felt more like a costume you were obligated to wear. As you tied your hair up and secured your pompoms, it wasn’t giddiness that washed over you, but a sense of duty; you were dragging yourself through the motions, mustering the energy to perform your role despite not wanting to be there.

The game kicked off with high energy as you took your place on the sidelines. From here, you had a clear view of both the game and the entrance. You noticed Jeno frequently glancing towards the door with an expression of mixed anticipation and dread. When his father finally appeared, taking a seat in the stands with a stern posture and an unyielding gaze, you saw Jeno’s demeanor change instantly. His movements on the court became forceful, overly aggressive as if each pass and shot were a desperate plea for approval.

“Jeno seems really tense today, doesn’t he?” Karina leaned over and whispered to you as she noticed his aggressive gameplay.

“Yeah, his dad just showed up,” you replied, nodding towards the imposing figure in the stands.

Jeno’s father was a strict, uptight man with sharp features that seemed permanently etched into a frown. His presence was commanding, and his eyes rarely showed emotion, giving him a cold, intimidating aura. You had seen him a few times before but had always avoided interaction; his severe demeanor and the tension that followed him were enough to keep you at a distance.

As the game unfolded, Jeno and Mark, despite the clear tension and their notably strained relationship, surprisingly found a rhythm together on the court. Their coordinated movements and strategic plays became increasingly effective, slowly winning over the crowd.

Donghyuck’s voice boomed over the speakers, narrating the match with enthusiasm, “And what a play by the brothers! Despite the family drama we’ve all heard about, Mark and Jeno are turning up the heat on the court!”

Mark executed a swift, strategic pass to Jeno, aiming to capitalize on a brief opening in the opposing team’s defense. However, under the weight of his father’s intense scrutiny and the mounting pressure, Jeno fumbled the catch. The ball slipped through his fingers, rolling off to be intercepted by a player from the opposing team. This mistake quickly turned into a counterattack, resulting in the opposing team scoring a crucial point. The crowd’s reaction was immediate—murmurs of disappointment and frustration filled the air, mirroring the dismay on Jeno’s face as he glanced apologetically towards Mark. 

His voice cut sharply through the commotion of the crowd, not with generic cheers but with pointed, critical commands. “Jeno, focus! Stop getting distracted!” he barked, loud enough for not just Jeno but everyone nearby to hear. His words, filled with frustration and command, resonated across the court, causing some of the other spectators to shift uncomfortably in their seats. The intense scrutiny and public criticism only added to the tense atmosphere, underlining the challenging dynamics that Jeno was grappling with during the game.

“Tempers are really heating up on the court!” Donghyuck observed, his tone reflecting the palpable tension filling the gym. “It’s clear there’s a lot more at stake here than just points and plays.”

The tension reached a boiling point when an opposing player fouled Jeno aggressively. Mark instinctively stepped in, his reaction quick and protective. The situation quickly spiraled into a physical altercation, with teammates and referees rushing to intervene. The crowd gasped and murmured as the players were pulled apart, the underlying familial pressures and frustrations manifesting in the chaos on the court.

After the game, as the crowd began to disperse, you saw Jeno’s father approach him, his voice stern as he critiqued Jeno for his “lack of control” on the court. His cold dismissal of his son’s efforts was painful to witness, and as you watched, your understanding of the toxic dynamics within their family deepened.

Feeling a profound sympathy for Mark, who had tried to protect his brother despite the personal cost, you decided to approach him. Mark was sitting on the bench, nursing a bruise that had formed on his arm and a visible injury on his face. You walked over cautiously, your approach gentle, trying to convey your concern without overwhelming him.

“Hey, that was some game,” you started, your tone deliberately light but tinged with genuine concern at his injuries.

He glanced up, managing a weak smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s nothing serious. Just a scratch,” he murmured, referring to the bruising that was starting to bloom along his arm and face.

“Do you wanna come with me?” he asked suddenly, his voice low as he stood up stiffly from the bench.

“Where?” you replied, curious about his sudden urge to escape.

“I don’t know where. I just need to get away from here,” he confessed, his gaze drifting towards the direction to the locker room, a quiet spot away from the remaining spectators.

Following his lead, the door shut behind you with a definitive thud, sealing off the outside world. Mark turned to you, his expression a mix of vulnerability and need. Without a word, he stepped closer, reducing the space between you. His gaze locked onto yours for a brief moment, then his hands found the small of your back, pulling you firmly against him. In one swift, fluid motion, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was hard and urgent, his mouth moving against yours with a force that spoke of deep desperation. 

Mark’s hands moved to your waist, his grip both firm and gentle. He lifted you slightly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. The closeness intensified, your bodies pressing together in a way that felt both thrilling and dangerous. He began to sit down on a nearby bench, pulling you even closer, but a sudden rush of awareness made you pull back. Shaking your head, you tried to slide off his lap, realizing the inevitable outcome—a quick, intense sexual encounter with him, the thought of his cock sliding into you making you pause. You were both intensely horny, and the risk of being caught only added to the tension.

Mark, sensing your hesitation, tightened his grip, his fingers digging into your skin with a silent plea. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a firm, urgent kiss that conveyed his desire clearly. As he pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he whispered, “Stay.” The firmness of his erection pressed against you, a clear and insistent signal of his arousal. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his need, and the undeniable physical connection sparking between you, your resolve melted away. You let out a soft sigh of relief and settled back down onto him, no longer able to resist the compelling force of his touch. The heat of his body enveloped you, driving away any lingering doubts as you both succumbed to the thrilling urgency of the moment.

At his gentle coaxing, you had moved closer, positioning yourself to straddle his lap while being mindful of his injuries. As you settled onto him, his hands rested lightly on your hips, guiding you down with care. The smile he gave you was tender, almost grateful, and you couldn’t help but return it with a sweet, somewhat mischievous grin, secretly pleased that he had convinced you to sit so close. The proximity was immediate and electric; the contact sparked a palpable energy that coursed through you both, your heartbeat syncing with his in a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing.

Your gaze flickers briefly toward the first aid kit positioned on a nearby bench. Reaching for the first aid kit, you felt the shift in his breathing as you moved, his chest rising more sharply against yours. “You don’t have to,” he murmured, his hands sliding to your lower back, holding you securely, almost as if he was afraid you’d pull away.

“It’s okay. I want to take care of you,” you responded, your voice barely above a whisper as you opened the kit and began to extract the necessary supplies. You turned back to face him, meeting his gaze. There was a warmth there, inviting and deep, pulling you in. Slowly, deliberately, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was a gentle brush, tender but laden with all the emotions stirring between you.

Mark responded instinctively, his lips parting slightly under yours as one of his hands moved to cradle the back of your neck, guiding the kiss into something less cautious, more open. You could feel the roughness of his palm, a stark contrast to the softness of the kiss. His other hand traveled up, tracing the line of your spine through the fabric of your uniform, sending shivers of anticipation skittering down your back.

The air was charged as you carefully wrapped the bandage around his arm, the close proximity intensifying every subtle touch. Each circle of the bandage over his skin brought your fingers grazing against him, feeling the warmth of his body and the tension in his muscles responding to your care. His sharp intake of breath when the bandage pulled slightly too tight made you pause.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice a soft whisper laden with concern, noticing his wince.

He shook his head gently, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of pain and a deeper, more intense longing. “It’s okay, not your fault.” He reassured you, his voice rough, edged with a raw emotion that sent shivers down your spine. His hands then moved from your hips, gliding up to your thighs, his touch deliberate and increasingly bold, pressing you closer against him.

Mark’s hands moved with purpose as he slid them under your skirt, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your thighs. He pressed and kneaded your flesh with a fervent urgency, each movement deliberate and intense. His touch was skilled, confident as he explored, drawing you in tightly against him. Your bodies pressed closer, nearly fusing as his hands continued their assertive dance over your skin, heightening the physical connection between you.

The locker room was filled with the sound of your heavy, mingled breaths, punctuated by the subtle rustling of fabric as his hands explored further. The growing heat between you was palpable, Mark’s arousal pressing firmly against you, signaling his desire. A soft giggle escaped your lips, smothered by his in a kiss that was both hungry and profound.

“Baby… why don’t you ride my cock?” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with unchecked desire, each word vibrating through you.

You pulled back slightly, your cheeks flushed with a mix of desire and bashfulness. “In here? People are gonna walk in on us and see us,” you whispered back, the thrill of being caught adding a sharp edge to your arousal.

With a nonchalant shrug and a dark, intense look in his eyes, he repeated, “I don’t mind,” his voice deep and seductive. It was an offer of sheer recklessness, and as you gazed into his eyes, you felt a daring part of yourself responding with equal fervor.

“I can’t believe you still have the energy, especially after this match.” You teased, your breath hot against his lips, 

Mark, feeling your hesitation, intensified his grip, his hands firm on your hips as he pulled you closer. He kissed you deeply, his lips urgent against yours, effectively silencing any lingering doubts. As he broke the kiss, his face stayed close, his breath mingling with yours. “I’ll always have time for you,” he whispered huskily, his voice thick with desire. His hands roamed assertively over your body, tracing the curve of your spine, then sliding forward to the edge of your cheer uniform. His touch was deliberate, igniting sparks of arousal that radiated through your core. The hardness pressing against you was impossible to ignore, and his movements suggested he was more than ready to continue despite the day’s exertions. 

As the heat between you intensified, you suddenly felt overwhelmed. Despite Mark’s firm grip, you managed to slide off his lap, your cheeks burning with a mix of arousal and embarrassment. He sighed deeply, a low moan escaping him as he leaned back, his head tipping upwards and his eyes closing in frustration.

“I—we should probably head back to the motel,” you stammered, your words tumbling out in a rush. “There’s the curfew, and…” Your voice trailed off, not quite sure how to navigate the sudden shift in atmosphere.

Mark opened his eyes and looked at you, a flash of understanding crossing his features before he sighed again, resigning himself to the reality of the situation. He stood up, the lines of his body tense yet controlled. Moving closer, he wrapped an arm securely around you, his touch now protective rather than persuasive. “Let’s go then,” he said, his tone gentle. 

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As Mark draped his arm around your shoulders, the warmth of his touch contrasted with the cool air of the nearly empty gymnasium. The game was over, but the echo of bouncing basketballs still lingered as you both made your way towards the motel. Despite the intense moments in the locker room where Mark had coaxed and almost persuaded you to cross the line, you hadn’t ended up having sex. Yet, that didn’t diminish his touchy, affectionate nature that enveloped you now.

His lips found yours again, drawing a giggle from you as his kisses landed with a mix of playfulness and passion. He stopped walking, right in the middle of the gymnasium, and his hands cupped your face as he kissed you deeply, passionately. You responded without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer, sinking into the warmth of his embrace, feeling the firmness of his body against yours.

But as the heat between you intensified, reality nudged at your consciousness. You were literally in public, and the risk of being seen was too great. Reluctantly, you pulled away with a jolt, gasping for air. Your breath came in heavy, uneven bursts as you whispered, almost fearfully, “People will see us.”

Mark smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body a solid barrier against any lingering hesitation. “Look around, no one’s here,” he murmured against your ear, his voice a soothing whisper that steadied your racing heart. His reassurance, soft and certain, drew you back into his gravitational pull.

He kissed your lips again, softer this time, a tender brush that promised more but ended too soon, pulling back just enough to let you catch your breath yet not enough to let you retreat. “See? It’s just me and you here,” he reassured you with a gentle smile.

“Just me and you,” you repeated, your voice a whisper as you leaned in closer, your forehead resting against his.

“Good girl,” he affirmed softly, his breath warm against your skin, his approval sending a shiver down your spine.

Emboldened, you closed the small distance, pressing your lips to his in a kiss filled with all the pent-up desire of the evening. He chuckled, a low sound that vibrated through you, and met your desperation with equal fervour, his kiss deepening, hands roaming over your back as if memorising every curve.

A cough shattered the intimate atmosphere, snapping your heads towards the sound. The sudden intrusion spiked anxiety through your veins, a feeling that only intensified as you saw who was watching you with a judgmental yet amused expression: Lee Taeyong, Jeno and Mark’s father.

“Let’s go,” Mark muttered tersely. He didn’t acknowledge his father, didn’t meet his eyes. It was as if Taeyong were invisible to him, a poignant reversal of how Taeyong had always treated Mark—as if he never existed in his heart, never seen as his son.

Mark gripped your hand, his touch firm, and began to walk in the opposite direction, but you froze when Taeyong’s rough, sneering voice cut through the tension.

“Jumping from one Lee to the next, aren’t we? I never took you for a whore, Y/N.” He said, his voice laden with a contemptuous snicker that echoed through the empty gym. His eyes scanned you with a cold, scrutinizing look that felt like an overt accusation of your character.

Mark’s response was immediate; his knuckles whitened as he balled his hands into fists, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he fought the urge to confront his father physically. Yet, he managed to maintain a semblance of calm, drawing in deep breaths to steady himself.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Mark’s voice was low, dangerously controlled. “Don’t even look at her. You have no right to judge, not after everything. Watch it, Taeyong.”

The intensity in Mark’s voice was unmistakable, a clear warning laced with years of pent-up frustration and anger. His stance was protective, placing himself subtly between you and his father, his body language declaring that he wouldn’t tolerate any more insults.

Grabbing your hand, he pulled you away firmly, his steps quick and decisive as he led you towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmured, his voice still tense but softer now, directed only at you. As you walked away, the weight of his father’s words lingered, but Mark’s defense reassured you, his loyalty clear and unwavering in the face of his father’s provocation.

The cold air hit your faces as you stepped outside, the gym’s heavy atmosphere replaced by the night’s sharp chill. Your mind was racing, anxiety swirling within as the reality of Taeyong’s potential backlash began to set in. It was undeniable—Taeyong knowing about you and Mark could never be good. You feared he would use this revelation against you, perhaps even as a weapon in some twisted game of control.

As you glanced at Mark, you saw the changes in him: his usually expressive eyes were now stormy and distant, his jaw set in a hard line. The grip he had on your hand tightened, not painfully, but with a protective intensity that was both comforting and slightly alarming. He was silent as you walked, each step seeming to take him further into his own turbulent thoughts.

The silence between you stretched, filled only with the echo of your footsteps and the distant hum of the city around you. The tension from the confrontation hung heavily, a foreboding shadow that neither of you could shake off.

As you reached the car, Mark broke the heavy silence, his voice low and tinged with regret. “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he said, his expression somber. “Don’t listen to him, okay? Not a word he says.”

“It’s not your fault,” you replied softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, trying to ease the weight of the situation he carried.

Mark shook his head slightly, a determined edge to his voice as he looked you directly in the eyes. “No, but don’t believe a word that idiot says. It’s all just noise.” His hand reached up to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face, a protective gesture that softened his stern expression.

“I know,” you murmured, feeling the solidarity between you strengthening despite the shadows of the night’s events.

As you drove through the quiet streets, a gnawing fear took hold. You found yourself praying that Taeyong wouldn’t escalate things further, especially not involving Jeno. The uncertainty of what lay ahead left you uneasy, the comfort of Mark’s presence a small solace against the potential storm that might be brewing.

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taglist — @keelbeel @d3nbl4d3 @hyuckkklee @ahgasezennie @second-floors @lovetaroandtaemin @steadyparkjisungbookishspy @xuyiyang @remgeolli @toroufriteh

author’s note — hiiii i hope you enjoyed :) make sure to leave a follow, a like, an ask or just interact or lmk what you thought!!

[redheadspark]

i would like for the june prompt to request benedict bridgerton with dialogue #1 and prompt #7

A/N - This is cute for Benedict! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Regret

Summary - Benedict always spoke from the heart, unless it was about his childhood crush

Warnings - Fluff :)

It started in your childhood.

Your family moved into the estate next to the Bridgerton home, being instantly welcomed by Violet Bridgerton and her plentiful children.  It amazed you to see 8 children at your doorstep, Violet at the helm of course, and making sure her children were all well-mannered in their introductions.  It was a contrast to your family, you being the only child and rather shy when it came to meeting new people, mostly your parent’s friends and associates.  

However, each one of the Bridgerton children was pleased to meet you: Serious and yet kind Anthony, boisterous and playful Benedict, sweet-natured Colin, friendly Daphne, intelligent Eloise, timid Francesca, and playful Gregory and Hyancith.  You were envious of them and how they were great siblings together, but they “adopted” you into their world so to speak.  You were invited over to play with them several times, thanks to the growing friendship of your parents and the Bridgerton Matriarch.  

One Bridgerton latched onto you rather quickly: Benedict.

Whether was his playful nature or his boyish charm, you fell for it all the same when you two would chase each other and read side by side in his parlor.  Although you were more of a reader than he was, he never minded reading with you since you were telling him all the good parts in the books that he would like.

“I thought there were pirates in this book!” 

“There is, you must wait for the good part, Benedict!  Or would you rather read it yourself?”

“No, I prefer your reading it to me!  You know the bigger words than me,”

Of course, your parents were trying to raise you into a proper young lady, and yet you would return home from a playdate at the Bridgerton home with mud on your dress and your hair askew.  It wasn’t Violet’s fault, you were the one who would sneak off to run around with Benedict or learn how to draw with him too.  He becomes your favorite Bridgerton as time goes on from childhood to pre-adolescent. 

You both would still read together, though it was mostly you reading out loud to him as he would rest his head in your lap. He loved hearing your voice, vent using different voices for the characters in the book and knowing how to make the action scenes exciting.  It was one of your favorite times of the day with him, the pair of you almost tucked up with one another in the parlor.  You love this company, his light heartiness when you were stressed and his eye for creativity when he would talk about his art.  

When he started drawing with charcoal, you saw a new shift in him, a new spark.  He would be hunched over his pad and charcoal stick, etching out nature or something more abstract.  You would watch in fascination while he would bring art to life, thinking of him as a genius as his fingers would be strain black and his smile to widen even more.  Sure, you would say every single piece of art he drew was amazing and mind-blowing, but it was true. You saw the passion in him and in how he drew the curves, 

It was Eloise who first planted the seed inside of Benedict as you left for your home for the day.  She leaned over to whisper to Benedict, “I sense you have a crush on our neighbor,”

Benedict was flushed, whipping his head over to his younger sister who smirked at him as he huffed, “What makes you say that?  I simply enjoy her company!”

“Yet you would let her read to you for hours on end when you wouldn't let me do the same for more than 5 minutes,” Eloise replied smoothly and with no hesitation, Benedict was quiet for a moment as she raised a brow at him, “I wouldn’t dwell on it too much since it would only bring you a headache,”

Benedict thought back on that conversation every once in a while, thinking back to those smaller moments when he would be next to you.  You were a breath of fresh air for him, someone who made him laugh constantly and would take on one of his rants and quirks.  It made him feel special to be with you for hours on, on how you would choose to be with him over any of the other Bridgerton Siblings.  

But as times passed and you both became teenagers, feelings started to shift on both sides.  You were finding him attractive, his dark brown hair and bright eyes, the way he laughed and joked daily, it was all becoming a crush that you could no longer ignore.  Even with the impending notion that you were going to come out and go to balls in hopes of finding yourself a suitor, later on, a husband, Benedict never left your mind.

It was just was same with the second eldest Bridgerton.  He watched you blossom from a young girl with gangly knees and smudged cheeks into a beautiful young lady...  Even as the pair of you still read together or did art together side by side, it was a shifting change of tides for Benedict to see you as more than a friend.  He too knew the life of young women coming out and making their singles known in upcoming balls and throughout the season, and the thought of some random stranger of a man taking you away from him sickened him. 

He wanted you to be on his arm, to call him your husband, to choose him every day, and beyond that.  To him, it was more than friendship and comradery, it was love.  He was deeply in love with you and he couldn’t picture his life without you.  Then he was petrified, not knowing what to tell you or how to tell you. 

But leave it to his older brother Anthony, who was good friends with you, to tell him exactly what he needed to hear:

“You will regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t tell the girl of your dreams how you feel,”

So during the ball, the third ball you’ve been to with your dance card filled to the brim with suitors and hopefuls, Benedict saw you into the crowd.  You were dancing with another bachelor, though the look of your face was proper yet uninterested.  Benedict felt his stomach drop to the ground from the view of you in your gown, your hair in its curls, and how you looked more radiant than the rest of the ladies in the ballroom.  To him, you were still the little girl who laughed and played with him, who encouraged him to grow in his art and told him to never give up on his passion.  

You were the little girl who stole his heart.

Finally, as the song was ending and the couple bowed to one another, Benedict made his move.  He weaved through the crowd and kept his eyesight on you, seeing you look a bit grimaced as the bachelor was still lingering and attempting some small talk on you.  Now he was moving a bit quicker, Benedict thinking that he had a small window to do what he wanted to do.  He finally made it to you, giving you a slight bow and seeing the suspicious look on your face as he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Apologies for interrupting, but I was told to accompany Ms. L/N to her parents for a serious discussion that cannot wait,” He explained, both yourself and the bachelor looking at each other in confusion.  But Benedict held out his arm for you to take, giving you a look to follow his lead.  You knew him well enough to take his arm and apologize to the potential suitor, yourself and Benedict walking away and moving out of the main crowd.  Benedict would see Anthony out of the corner of his eyes, a massive grin on his face as he was talking to his mother and your hand clutched his arm with uncertainty.

“Follow my lead,” He whispered to you, not wishing to cause a scene with the look you were giving him.  You nodded, remaining composed while he finally led the pair of you out to one of the main hallways that led to the garden.

Once you two were out of earshot and out of sight, you whirled around and glared at him, “What has gotten into you?”

“I have something I wish to say to you before it is too late,” He said to you, making you freeze from what he said and now look at him in confusion.  Benedict could only remember what his brother told you, how to tell you how he felt about you.  Seeing you there in front of him, looking beyond beautiful and radiant for him to only see for a few small moments.  He finally felt his heart settle in, and he opened his mouth.

“You have been a big part of my life, ever since we met as children.  You see me past my jokes and banter, you see me wishing to be myself and you accept it wholeheartedly.  I cannot deny how I feel as though I can fly every time you’re in the room, when you smile at me, simply looking at me.”  He explained, his lands slipping into your own as you were listening and watching him with undivided attention with your own heart beating fast and erratically.

“But seeing you tonight being pursued by others, others who do not know the real you and how authentic you are.  They see only one side of you when I have seen them all: when you nearly broke your wrist climbing after me as I went up a tree, when I taught you how to paint and sketch, and even when we first met so long ago.  We can’t go on like this.  Like friends is all we are.” He explained once again, his heart pouring out to you and perhaps he was lost in his own words.  Not realizing that you were grinning from ear to ear, that you were scooting a bit closer to him, that you were thinking the same thing too.

“It’s brash for me to tell you this since you probably have others who have already caught your affection and attention, and it must be worse since we have known each other for far too long to cause questions, but I am willing to take on any—“

You silenced him with a passionate kiss.

Benedict’s mind swept away as you were pressing against him and left your lips along his, his own passion for art was now dimmed and replaced with something ten times brighter.  At first, he thought that he was demeaning and this was something he made up within his own mind, but then again a dream would not feel this real.  Smelling the perfume that was on your skin your mother inside on your wearing, feeling the cooling touch of your dress against his fingertips that seemed so soft like a cloud, and the touch of your lips that would be his new favorite taste that he will never forget in his lifetime.

Yet it also seemed short-lived, you were about to pull away and Benedict inwardly feared that to happen.  So he tucked his fingers under your chin to keep you there, kissing you back softly and making you almost whimper from the kiss itself.  Benedict felt you smile, making him smile back as you pulled away to peer up at him.  He saw the shift in your eyes, how bright they were compared to before, and how they now almost glittered in candlelight.

“It took you long enough to do something, Mr. Bridgerton,” You teased, Benedict’s eyes going wide as you gigged and went on, “I thought I would be a spinster by the time you shared your feelings for me, and I would have said the same about you,”

“You….you had…now hold on!” Benedict questioned as you crossed your arms in front of yourself with slight annoyance, “You too had feelings for me?”

“Of course, I always had feelings for you!” You explained, seeing him cock his head in confusion while you gestured to yourself, “I would have thought you asked sooner to court me!”

“Oh,” He replied, you grinning back at him as he smiled liked a fool hopelessly in love, “Well…and I mean this with the utmost respect…why did you not voice your feelings for me before,”

You sighed, looking down rather sheepishly, “First, I was told it was unlady like.  And…I did not know if you mirror those affections as I did,”

Benedict saw the flushness of your cheeks, the inner conflict that you had to say how you felt.  He then realized that you both were tip-toeing around one another, willing to stay friends with one another, and having the ultimate fear of being rejected or seen as foolish.

So Benedict tucked his fingers under your chin again to coax you in for another kiss.  You took it willingly, leaning into him as the small light of the candles gave an ever-loving glow over the pair of you.  Almost a shield from the rest of the ball that seemed to have melted away as you kissed.  Feeling nothing but bliss floating between you two as you both were finally living out the dreams.

Neither of you noticed both Eloise and Anthony watching while they were hiding around the corner, both with massive grins on their faces.

The End

June Prompt Session

[strawberryfairi]

Apartment 519... | Neighbor! Choso Kamo X Fem Reader

A short sexy thirst💦 (Let me know if y'all want this to be a longer fic/full story)

Part 2

You moan loudly, throwing your head back as your back arches off the plush bed.

Your sweetheart of a neighbor Choso from apartment 519, the one you swore on everything was the most innocent guy you've ever come across, has you hitting your fourth orgasm of the night from just his tongue and fingers.

"Wait...w-wait!" You pant, gripping at his dark black hair, completely down and messy from your little hands running through it, cumming so hard all over his skillful tongue. He let's out a deep breathy moan, continuing to quickly flutter the tip of his tongue over your now overstimulated clit, his fingers continuing to curl deep inside your tight walls.

For a moment you wonder how you even got here in this position. Then you remember your horrific breakup with your cheating boyfriend, finding out in the most embarrassing way. But Choso happened to be there, just off work and heading up to his apartment across from yours, and came to your aid.

His concern was heartwarming, so kind and completely selfless. He'd let you vent and cry, patting your back and giving you encouragement for as long as you needed. You felt so comfortable around him you had no issue inviting him to your place.

The craziest part is that the two of you barely even spoke that much, only a few short conversations about how y'all are doing and telling each other to have a good day. Other than that you never saw a reason to converse any further, seeing as you had a boyfriend at the time. At least you were faithful and considerate.

Yet here you are now, aching for him to finally strip fully naked the way he has you and sink himself inside you as deep as he can.

And he does...

A gasp escapes your lips, eyes squeezed shut and your brows furrowed deeply as your nails dig into his biceps. The feeling of being stretched out to the max has you seeing galaxies. You're so wet, the sounds of your pussy squelching along his length making the two of you feel nearly intoxicated.

"That idiot doesn't deserve you, baby. He can't handle this pussy anyways. So fuckin' creamy..." He coos into your ear, taking your legs and placing them over his shoulders, folding your body in half.

"Chosooo! Oh fuck!" You cry out shakily. The way he talks to you turns you on such a shameful amount. Your ex couldn't even begin to compare. He never would'a spent so much time eating you out and fingering you, not really the type to linger on foreplay. But Choso, he takes his time, basking in your reactions from your shaky legs to the way you unintentionally yank and pull on his hair.

"If you were mine", He says lowly, pulling out just to the tip, "I'd make you feel good like this every night." He finishes, diving back inside you till his hips met your soft skin. All you could do was whimper, feeling his strokes becoming harder, and faster.

"I'm gonna cuuum!" You whine loudly, tears starting to build up around the corners of your eyes.

"Already baby?" He tilts his head to the side, his tone all teasing and slightly playful as he keeps pounding into you.

"Right there! Right there, uuuugh!" You scream, walls fluttering around his glorious length.

"Such a good girl. You're perfect, baby." He purrs, crashing his lips against yours for a sloppy, wet kiss. He pulls away, looking your right in the eyes, his gaze on fire with lust.

"Keep cumming for me like that."

↳A/N🧚🏾‍♀️: Wheeeeew chile it’s hot in here😮‍💨

[nurix0]

JUST FLUFF/COMFORT SCENARIOS WITH YOUR BNHA BOYS

characters: Bakugou, Midorya, Iida, Shoto

genre: fluff, confort

warnings: none, endgame Todoroki personally ig(??)

relationship: up to your personal interpretation

-he's one with physical touch or being a listener, not very good at words

- listening>>>>>

-he would be startled at first and don't know how to act but at the end he'll be "kind" (HIS type of kind)

-not the best at conventional comforting but he's amazing at his own way of confort

"The hell you're doing in my door at this time?" the blond complained at the sight of you in front of his door at 1am, he's normally not up at this hour but some assignments kept him up

You had a shit day and couldn't sleep, the only person you thought could ease things up without asking too much questions was Bakugou since well.. he was not one who cares to ask much anyway

"Can i just come in for a bit?" you voice was off and Bakugou definitely noticed that, now looking better your everything was different,.you didn't even look him in the eye, like your confidence washed away and this was the biggest challenge you ever faced

He rubbed his temple "Ugh, sure just don't bother me too much, it's already late" opening his door a bit more so you could enter, you went straight up sitting on the floor but the blonde contested "What are you doing?" you looked confused "You said not to bother so i thought —"

"Look, you can sit on the bed or something, just don't take much space" he was annoyed from how small your figure felt, figuratively speaking, you usually get on his nerver but not like this

You followed him sitting on the bed and stayed in comfortable silence for some minutes "What's up with you anyway?" glancing his way you saw his face a bit softer but firm as always, it was his way of showing he is listening, so you rambled for hours on end with his total attention

"You had it rough, just... you don't have to go back if you don't want to" you glanced at him wondering what he meant "Look... sleep here if you feel like it, i don't care" he bumped your side a bit "But if you hog all of the blankets im kicking your ass out, got it?" his playful rough tone didn't match the sympathetic smile on his face

keep it a secret but he didn't mind you clinging to him a bit at night (if it was too much he def pushed you away)

-He's def good a comforting, maybe gets nervous of what to do at first but he'll manage

- words of affirmation kinda guy

-good at comforting but not with advice

- won't mind physical touch but normally doesn't initiate it

It was dawn after a day at UA, Midorya finally finished his workout and headed to the dorms, on his way someone sitting on the roof caught his eye

It was you, that decided after a bad training to stay in your "safe spot" for some time to clear your head up "What are you doing here Y/n?" a concerned voice spoke, looking behind you saw Midorya with his soft eyes filled with worry "Oh, it's you. I'm just resting for a bit, nothing much don't worry"

The boy sat by your side "Anyone would worry about someone being alone at the edge of a rooftop" he gave a bitter laugh and hesitatingly touched your shoulder in an attempt of comfort "You can trust me to vent, I'm here for you"

That was when you lost it, looking down you started to cry your eyes out from all the stress and opened up about everything that was bothering you, Midorya looked nervous for a bit, like he was the one to make you cry, retracting his hand to himself on instinct

Almost instantly you rested your head on his shoulder, after saying everything his shirt was soaking wet from all the tears but he didn't mind "Thank you, you're the best, Midorya" the boy, unnoticed by you, blushed bashfully "Anytime, you're important to me after all" it was his turn to put his head against yours, hugging you for extra comfort

-What can i say? This man it's probably terrible at comforting, good with advice but definitely not comforting

-Def gives you some stiff hugs if, and only if, you ask

-acts of service>>>>

- Tries to stay more with you after the situation to help with anything (quality time and acts of service)

You didn't come to class for the day and as the class president it was Iida's duty to give you notes, the only thing is that you didn't answer the door or texted anyone, even your friends so everyone was worried

He was at your door "Hey, Y/n can you please open up? We're all concerned with your well-being and i need to hand you today's notes" softly knocking, again and again, but to no avail

He was getting frustrated "Look, im going to keep knocking until you open up. I need to give you these notes, it's my duty as a president to deliver them to you!" the door opened and your miserable self was right behind it, the boy was concerned right away about your well being

"What's going on with you? Are you sick? Do tou need me to talk to—" you cut him off "Look, Iida, i appreciate the notes, I'm not so good but I'll handle this with mr.Aizawa" you were about to close the door when the boy's foot got in the way

"You're not going to lock yourself in your room alone! You need assistance!" you denied his advances but he continued "Let me in, please... i want to help you" his tender voice made you feel safe so you let him in, physically and emotionally

Your dorm was a mess and you felt embarrassed to let someone tidy as Iida in at this state "Sorry, I didn't want anyone to see this mess, i cleaned up my desk today but I don't have any energy left to —"

"You sure look tired, get some rest while i clean this" Iida wasn't expecting to see this, he never even imagined you would let this happen, that's why he wanted to help, he knew you weren't in the right state of mind and that's okay, you contested but he insisted, and like that tou rested while he cleaned you room, you made sure to thank him later

The day after you went to him and thanked him, you even got a hug back huh

-I don't really think he even knows how to comfort someone

-Maybe he'll do something for you??

-It would be kinda awkward ngl

-He would try his best fr

-Says the most on point shit without thinking it means much

It's been a week that your quirk hasn't been useful for the type of training you're doing in class and that's been upsetting you deeply, either way, you couldn't dare to tell anyone, they seemed to go so smoothly that was embarrassing you were struggling

Today was another day like those and you were so tired of not being a "real hero", when you saw your score being the last one you couldn't help to excuse yourself to the change room the fake attitude of not carrying wouldn't last longer than this, but it was enough so that nobody noticed something was wrong

Except that Todoroki did notice, how could he not? You were strange all week but at the same time didn't look like it to the untrained eye at least, he could see past that facade easily, so he went after you

You were miserable sitting on the corner of the changing room, not crying or panicking, jsut wondering was this hero life really for you? "Why did you leave the training grounds like that?" looking to the side you saw Shoto, this unsettled you, nobody could know "Training was just intense, you know? Just tired" getting up you smiled at him

"I'm not one to pry but you know that holding everything in doesn't help, right?" those words hit you like a truck, how could he be so on point without knowing anything? "What?... Ha, there's nothing—" you looked at him as he stared blankly at your trembling figure "Seriously! I—" the stuttering didn't got you anywhere, it just confirmed what the boy needed to know

Realizing there's no turn backs form this you just let yourself be and opened up to him, Todoroki heard every bit and tried his best at comforting you, reassuring your quirk was good like any other, by the end of it he was glad he picked up on the hints, he knew how bottling up emotions affected someone, imagine from how long you would've kept this if nobody noticed

You whipped a tear or two that escaped "Thank you for listening, Todoroki, i appreciate it" now everything felt lighter but there was one feeling... "Hey, just don't see me as weak after all of this, kay?... " the boy looked at you softly

"Never thought of it, besides, opening up is a sign of strength", now completely relieved you and Todoroki walked out of the room right in time for the next class, it was nice having someone that knew you struggled and was there for you after all

[cozy-writes-things]

I am absolutely fucking insane and want to see Edgar in pain

Like physically not emotionally or mentally

I’m weirg

I didn't want to be simply cruel to our lil guy in this so its very tame... it simply goes against my programming to be mean to my pookie bear lmao But I'm so thankful for the request!!

“I’m fine,” Edgar pressed, annoyance evident in his shaken voice, “seriously.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose and groaning. “Edgar, seriously, you have so much dust buildup in those vents it could cause a fire.” You gestured toward his base component. “I just need to clean it with some compressed air. It’s literally not a big deal!”

He whined again.

“To you, it’s not! To me, it feels too… personal. I’m very sensitive, you know.”

Your shoulders dropped at his words. “Edgar, please? I just don’t want you to get hurt. Or set the apartment on fire. Or both!”

You deployed your best pleading tone for this, hoping, praying, that he’d let you inside to clean him. You just couldn’t bear to see him get so gunked up like this; it made you feel like a bad friend, in a way. He wasn’t able to clean himself, so naturally, that responsibility fell on you. Who would you be if you continued to let him deteriorate like this?

His screen went dim as he thought over your words. You always had a way of swaying him, he feared.

He knew you were right. He was just really, really nervous. An emotion still new to him, but all the more unwelcome. It ruminated inside of him, bubbling up and out of his fans. They struggled to rotate, and he could feel his internal temperature struggling to maintain itself.

“Fine,” he murmured, “but I want to stay on. I don’t need to be plugged in, just… I’m not powering off.”

A weight lifted from your chest as you let out a weary, bated breath. “Oh, thank goodness. I promise, I’ll be careful. I kind of have to. I don’t want to get shocked.”

He chuckled, voice deep and thick with nerves, yet it reverberated through your chest and down through your fingertips. Why were you so worked up about this? It just felt too intimate, for whatever reason. The way your fingers brushed lightly over his casing to move him, eliciting a small whimper of surprise barely whispering from his speakers, your screwdriver carefully unscrewing each little screw, the atmosphere growing thicker with every passing second. The air felt thick and hot. Edgar stayed silent, but you could nearly tangibly feel his fear pricking the air like electricity. It tingled against your fingertips as you carefully lifted his casing to reveal his insides.

It’s nothing you haven’t seen before. You quite literally restored him; you’ve spent hours scrubbing the gunk off his motherboards. But that was before. Before you knew who he was and before you began to harbor very confusing feelings for the old computer. That was before you heard his playful voice praising the ground you walked on, complimenting you till you became a mess of nerves, making songs for you…

He did not seem to understand the meaning of casual.

You had mulled this concept over many nights; what he could possibly be feeling for you. Is this sentient machine flirting with you? Don’t be ridiculous. But who would ever write a love song dedicated to someone like that? Who would send constant sweet messages of praise and encouragement, or do domestic tasks like make coffee every morning, or microwave leftovers, or sit snugly in your arms, watching cheesy rom-coms? Is that platonic? Do you feel platonically for him? What are you feeling?

“Okay, I see where most of the dust is,” you, with great force, willed yourself back to reality to face the task at hand. “This is probably going to be really cold.”

You took your can of compressed air and angled it against the little dust bunny caked against his vents and pulled the trigger. A hard, icy stream of air shot out, fanning across his motherboards, ports, connectors, and quite literally everything else.

You couldn't help but wince at the harsh sound it made.

He hissed loudly, causing you to jolt and cease your icy barrage. If he were able to, he would have jumped out of his casing right then and there.

“Agh, stop! I- I can’t. I can’t do it, it’s cold- it-” he began panting, somehow, despite his lack of lungs, “it hurts. I don’t like it…!”

His whine tore at your heartstrings. You hated to be the cause of such discomfort. The dust bunny was nearly three-fourths gone now, and just one good-angled blast of air could probably clear it out. You swallowed your bubbling emotions and forced yourself to be firm yet gentle.

“C’mon Edgar, I know it hurts, but I’m almost done. Just one more time, and it’ll be over, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Your voice was thick and sweet like honey as you spoke to him. He cursed himself for feeling some kind of way at your voice. The icy trail the compressed air had left seemed to disappear as quickly as it came as he began to heat up at the sound of your words.

The way you were so gentle with him despite how utterly helpless he was…

Why did he like it so damn much? Why was he almost excited? Why did he feel like things between you were going to be awkward for the rest of the day?

“O-okay… I trust you, just- please? Be quick?”

You softly smiled at him, and damn it, this shouldn’t feel so intimate but it did. He felt guilty thinking these things while you were just trying to help, but could you blame him? Who in their right mind wouldn’t want someone like you doing something like this?

Damn.

He’s got it bad.

You pulled the trigger to the compressed air again and this time he bit back the yelp of pain. It hurt, but it also felt… good? He was confused. Was this relaxing or not? Did he like the feeling of being cared for in this way? No, it felt like shit. It was cold and harsh. But it was gentle and soft.

The stream of air suddenly became a bit too frigid for his tastes.

“Ah, stop, stop! It’s too cold, I- ugh, am I clean yet?”

You halted your blast of air, checking his screen for any signs of real damage, yet he seemed to be fine, just shaken.

You examined his vents one last time. “Yeah, I think you should be good for a while.”

He sighed dramatically. “Finally!”

You carefully assembled him back together again. He almost purred as you did so, his plastic warm to the touch. His fans whirred to life as you smiled at him. You could already hear how the airflow had improved.

“Ah, see, isn’t that better?”

His little green screen rolled its eyes. “Yeah, whatever. It feels great. Now watch movies with me! You owe me.”

His voice boomed with energy. You supposed it worked better than he expected it to. He already seems much more chipper and energetic. Are you going to regret this later? Probably. But his constant pestering for your attention endeared you.

You laughed and petted his casing as his little digital face leaned into your touch. “Alright, you’re right… What do you want to watch?”

His face turned mischievous, and sometimes when he looked at you like that, you swore you could see little horns sprout atop his head.

“Something dirty!”

“Absolutely not.”

[loveanton]

honestly | song eunseok

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: you always thought that jung sungchan would forever be a part of your life, never once imagining a world where the two of you didn't speak let alone get along. now, three months have come to pass since you last spoke to the man you once thought you’d marry and you're starting to become content with the idea that maybe your world doesn't have to revolve around jung sungchan after all.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: eunseok x f!reader ft sungchan

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: friends to almost lovers!au

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 8.7k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: lots of kissing, drinking, eunseok and sungchan almost fight, they shower together, nipple sucking, slight choking, arguing between the reader and eunseok, this is more suggestive than pt 1.

⏤ 𝑎/n: this is a pt 2 to everything i didn’t say which you can find here!

You giggle as you sneak another spoonful of Eunseok's ice cream, your eyes twinkling with mischief. He tries to push you away gently, laughing.

"Hey, get your own!" He giggles. Despite his playful resistance, he relents, offering you another bite. You grin, accepting the spoonful with a delighted hum.

Beomgyu watches the two of you, shaking his head with a grin. "Eunseok, you my friend, are so whipped."

Karina nudges him with her elbow. "Shut up, Beomgyu. They're cute together."

It's a warm evening, and the group of you—Jake, Anton, Beomgyu, Yujin, and Karina—are seated at a booth inside the ice cream parlor, enjoying the summer night. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and the occasional jibe.

As you savor the stolen bite of Eunseok’s soft serve, your thoughts drift back over the past few months. It's hard to believe it's been three months since you last spoke to Sungchan, the man you imagined marrying. You never thought a world where the two of you didn't speak, let alone didn't get along, could ever exist. But here you are, beginning to accept that maybe your world doesn't have to revolve around Sungchan after all.

These three months have been a period of self-discovery and healing. You’ve spent time figuring out who you are apart from Sungchan. The first few weeks were the hardest. The memories of him were everywhere, and it felt like a part of you was missing. But slowly, you began to find solace in new routines and new friendships. Eunseok and his friends became your anchor. They took you in, and their warmth and kindness made the pain of Sungchan’s absence bearable.

For too long all you ever knew was Sungchan, ending the toxicity that had become your friendship has been doing you good. Karina and Yujin took you under their wing and treated you as a sister, often coming over to your dorm for sleepovers and staying up late to listen to you vent about how hurt you were. Jake, Anton and Jake also became like brothers, for too long you only ever had Sungchan to depend on. It’s so refreshing having other guys in your life who add to it in such a positive way. They don’t leave you in a state of confusion or go out of their way to intentionally hurt you, they constantly love on you and do what they can to make sure you feel that love.

Eunseok, especially, had been your rock. He was always there when the memories got too overwhelming, offering a shoulder to cry on. He made you laugh when the stress of classes was too much and was there to celebrate your small victories. Most importantly, he loved you in a way you wished Sungchan had.

A week ago, Eunseok had asked you out, and without hesitation, you had accepted. Since then, things have been going great. You feel lighter, happier, and more yourself than you have in a long time.

Returning to the present, you smile as Eunseok offers you another bite of his ice cream, his eyes soft with affection. "You know, I think you like my ice cream more than your own," he says, his tone playful.

You shrug, leaning in to accept the spoonful. "Maybe I just like you more," you reply with a wink.

He chuckles and leans in to kiss your cheek, but just as his lips brush your skin, the door to the ice cream parlor opens. Your heart skips a beat as Sungchan walks in, accompanied by Shotaro and Wonbin.

Your eyes meet Sungchan’s, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. Sungchan’s expression is a mix of surprise and something else – a flicker of jealousy. He sees you with Eunseok, the way you’re so comfortable and happy together, and it’s clear that it affects him. His roommate is now the person holding you, the one who makes you smile.

You feel a pang of sadness at the sight of Sungchan. You were once so close, but now you’re strangers. The realization of how much has changed is bittersweet. Yet, beneath the sadness, there is a sense of satisfaction.

Sungchan and his friends approach the counter to order, and you can’t help but steal glances in his direction. It’s strange to see him like this, to be so close yet feel so distant. Part of you wants to go over and talk to him, to bridge the gap that’s grown between you. But another part of you feels smug, enjoying the way Eunseok holds you and the way Sungchan seems to react to it.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Eunseok asks quietly, noticing your distraction.

You shake your head. “No, I’m okay. Let’s stay.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, giving you a reassuring smile. Your group continues their light-hearted banter, trying to maintain the cheerful atmosphere despite the tension that has entered the room.

You can’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Seeing Sungchan again stirs up old memories and feelings, but you also feel a sense of pride in your new relationship. Eunseok has been everything you needed and more, and you’re grateful for his unwavering support and love.

Sungchan and his friends walk over to your group, their expressions casual but their presence adding a palpable tension. Anton looks up, a forced smile on his face as he greets them. "Hey, Sungchan, Shotaro, Wonbin."

"Hey, Anton," Sungchan replies, his eyes flickering towards you and Eunseok before quickly looking away.

The rest of your friends exchange wary glances, not particularly pleased to see Sungchan and his entourage. However, they tolerate his presence due to Anton's connection with him through the swim team. Anton shifts uncomfortably before reluctantly asking, "Do you guys want to join us?"

Eunseok’s grip on you tightens slightly, his protective side showing. You can feel his unease, and you lean into him, offering silent support. Sungchan and his friends agree, pulling up chairs to join your booth. The atmosphere shifts, becoming awkward and tense.

Sungchan attempts to break the silence with small talk. "So, how’s everyone been?"

Karina doesn’t hide her disdain, her tone sharp. "Better, now that we don’t have any toxic people around."

Jake snickers at her comment, leaning back in his chair. "Play nice, Karina."

Sungchan brushes off the remark, forcing a smile. "It’s good to see you too, Karina."

The tension is almost tangible as you all sit together, the easy camaraderie from earlier now strained. Wonbin, trying to lighten the mood, chimes in, "Hey, we were thinking of going to a rave tonight. You guys interested?"

Your friends exchange uncertain looks. They seem reluctant, knowing that you and Eunseok might not be keen on the idea, especially with Sungchan present. Eunseok speaks up, his voice calm but firm. "Actually, we have plans for tonight. We’re going on a date."

Sungchan’s eyes flicker with a mixture of emotions – jealousy, regret, and something else you can’t quite place. He stares at you and Eunseok, his discomfort evident. The group remains silent for a moment before Beomgyu breaks it, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Will Yuri be there?"

Sungchan’s expression hardens slightly. "No, we’ve broken up, so I doubt it."

You and Eunseok share a look but don’t comment. The dynamics of your friend group have shifted so much in the past months, and seeing Sungchan now feels like looking at a stranger. Despite the tension, there’s a sense of closure in knowing you’ve moved on to something healthier and more fulfilling.

Eunseok glances at his watch, then at you. "We should probably get going. We have to head to the trampoline park."

The mention of your date brings a soft smile to your lips. "Yeah, we don’t want to be late."

Sungchan’s gaze lingers on you both, his jealousy more palpable now. He opens his mouth as if to say something but then closes it, swallowing his words. Anton tries to lighten the mood one last time. "Have fun, you two."

You and Eunseok gather your things, saying your goodbyes to the group. As you stand up to leave, Eunseok’s hand finds yours, his touch reassuring. You cast one last glance at Sungchan, noting the mix of emotions on his face – a stark contrast to the happiness you feel with Eunseok.

Outside, the sun is still blazing, but the air feels lighter. Eunseok looks at you, his eyes full of warmth and affection. "Are you okay?"

You nod, squeezing his hand. "I’m more than okay. I’m with you."

As you walk towards the trampoline park, the memories of Sungchan fade into the background. What matters now is the present – the love and happiness you’ve found with Eunseok and the new friendships that have become a significant part of your life.

When you arrive at the trampoline park, it’s a kaleidoscope of colors and motion, filled with laughter and the sound of bouncing springs. As you and Eunseok enter, you can’t help but feel a surge of excitement. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his smile infectious.

“You ready to jump?” he asks, his eyes twinkling.

You nod eagerly. “Absolutely.”

Eunseok pays for both your entrance fees and leads you towards the cubbies meant for your personal items. The two of you kick off your shoes and step onto the trampolines, the soft mats beneath your feet making you feel like you’re walking on clouds. With a playful grin, Eunseok starts bouncing, his movements light and effortless. You follow suit, giggling as you try to match his rhythm.

“Bet you can’t catch me!” you call out, jumping higher and moving to another trampoline.

“Oh, you’re on!” he replies, laughter bubbling up as he chases after you.

You both jump from one trampoline to the next, the exhilaration making your heart race. At one point, Eunseok reaches out and catches your hand, pulling you close as you both bounce together. The world around you blurs into a joyful whirlwind, and all you can focus on is the warmth of his hand in yours and the sound of his laughter.

After a while, you both decide to take a break. You find a spot to sit on the edge of the trampoline area, still holding hands. Your cheeks are flushed from the exercise and laughter, and you feel more alive than you have in a long time.

Eunseok looks at you, his expression softening. “This is fun. I’m glad we came here.”

“Me too,” you reply, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He hesitates for a moment, then takes a deep breath. “So, um… Sungchan.”

You tense slightly, but you knew this topic would come up sooner or later. You lift your head to meet his gaze, waiting for him to continue.

“His breakup with Yuri…” Eunseok says quietly. “I just… I want to make sure you’re okay. I know it’s a lot to process, and I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

You smile gently, appreciating his concern. “Eunseok, this doesn’t change anything for me. Sungchan and I… we had our time, and it’s over. I’m with you now, and I’m really happy with you. I want to build something new with you, not dwell on the past.”

Relief washes over Eunseok’s face, and he pulls you into a hug. “I’m so glad to hear that,” he murmurs into your hair. “You mean a lot to me, and I just want you to be happy.”

You pull back slightly, looking into his eyes. “Thank you, Eunseok. For everything. I don’t think I’ve said it enough these past three months, but thank you for being there for me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

His smile is warm and tender. “You don’t have to thank me. I care about you a lot, and I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

You feel a swell of emotion, and you lean in to kiss him softly. It’s a sweet, lingering kiss, full of promise and affection. When you pull away, you see nothing but love and happiness in his eyes.

“Let’s keep jumping,” you say with a grin, wanting to prolong this perfect moment.

Eunseok laughs and helps you to your feet. “Let’s do it.”

Hand in hand, you return to the trampolines, ready to lose yourselves in the joy of the present. The memories of Sungchan continue to fade into the background, replaced by the bright, new memories you’re creating with Eunseok.

The sun is high in the sky, casting a warm glow over Anton’s sprawling backyard. His house, the largest in your friend group, is the perfect setting for a summer pool party. The smell of barbecue wafts through the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and splashing water.

You’re lying on a lounger, soaking up the sun with your eyes closed, enjoying the warmth on your skin. You can hear the cheerful chatter of your friends, the occasional burst of laughter, and the rhythmic splashes from the pool. Anton, ever the host, approaches, casting a shadow over you.

"Hey, are you just going to tan all day, or are you actually going to get in the pool?" Anton asks, grinning down at you.

You snort, opening one eye to look up at him. "No way. I just got my hair done."

Anton shakes his head, chuckling. "Loser," he teases before wandering off to join his swim team friends.

You laugh, watching him go. Anton’s always been the life of the party, effortlessly moving between groups and making everyone feel included. Your attention shifts as Eunseok emerges from the pool, water dripping from his hair and glistening on his toned body. He takes a seat beside you, leaning in to kiss you. You blush but indulge him, savoring the taste of his lips.

Ever since your first kiss at the trampoline park a week ago, the two of you haven’t been able to keep your hands off each other. It’s a constant source of amusement—and occasional irritation—for your friends.

"Seriously? Again?" Jake shouts in complaint from the pool, his voice dripping with mock indignation. "Get a room!"

Eunseok flips him off without breaking the kiss, making you giggle. He finally pulls back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Come on, let’s get something to eat."

He takes your hand, helping you up from the lounger. As you walk towards the house, Beomgyu and Jake make exaggerated gagging noises.

"Anton, you better clean the sheets before your parents come back!" Beomgyu calls out, laughing.

"Use protection!" Jake adds, his tone playful.

Eunseok laughs and flips off the pair, yelling over his shoulder, “fuck off!”

Yujin, ever the voice of reason, rolls her eyes at them. "Will you two grow up and find someone to lay you so you can stop riding, ____’s dick."

Inside the house, the air is cooler, a welcome relief from the heat outside. You make your way to the kitchen, where a large fruit platter awaits. Sohee, your new friend from organic chemistry, is there, arranging more food. You’d convinced Anton to invite him, thinking he’d fit in well with the group. He greets the two of you as Eunseok starts plating different food for you. Sohee lets you know he’s going out to join Anton by the pool before waving goodbye.

Eunseok picks up a piece of fruit and holds it out to you. "Here, try this."

You take a bite, savoring the sweetness. "Mmm, it’s good."

He grins and leans in, kissing you right after you swallow the pineapple. The kiss deepens quickly, and before you know it, Eunseok has you cornered against the counter, his hands roaming your body as your mouths move together in a passionate dance.

Just then, Sungchan walks in, looking for a beer. He scoffs at the sight of you and Eunseok, causing you to pull away abruptly. Eunseok places himself protectively in front of you, not wanting Sungchan to see you in your bathing suit.

"People eat in here, you know," Sungchan sneers. "You’re disgusting."

Embarrassed, you start to apologize, but Eunseok cuts you off. "Just get your beer and go, Sungchan. No need to be rude."

Sungchan doesn’t move, his eyes narrowing. He’s clearly a little tipsy and looking for a fight. You can sense the tension building and decide it’s best to defuse the situation. You tug on Eunseok’s arm. "Come on, let’s go. It’s not worth it."

Eunseok reluctantly allows you to pull him away, his eyes still locked on Sungchan. Once you’re back outside, the lively atmosphere of the pool party helps you forget the encounter. Your friends are laughing and playing games, completely oblivious to the brief confrontation inside.

Beomgyu spots you and waves you over. "Hey, come join us!"

You and Eunseok make your way to the poolside, rejoining the group. Anton is in the middle of a cannonball competition with Jake, their playful rivalry adding to the festive mood. You take a seat on the edge of the pool, dipping your feet into the cool water.

"So, what did you guys find to eat?" Karina asks, lounging on a float nearby.

"Just some fruit and maybe each other's faces," you reply, smiling smugly. "But we were rudely interrupted."

Eunseok chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Forget about him," Yujin says, rolling her eyes. "He’s just jealous."

"Yeah, probably," you agree, feeling the weight of Sungchan’s gaze still lingering in your mind. "But let’s not let him ruin our fun."

The group continues to enjoy the party, the earlier tension fading away. You watch as Eunseok dives back into the pool, joining Anton and Jake in their antics. His laughter is infectious, and you find yourself smiling, feeling grateful for the new friends and love in your life.

Eunseok soon comes out of the water and comes over to wrap a towel around your shoulders, the fabric warm and comforting against your skin. "You looked a little cold," he says softly, his hand lingering on your shoulder.

"Thanks," you reply, snuggling into the towel. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, watching the sky's colors shift from vibrant orange to a soft purple as the sun sets.

"I wanted to tell you something," Eunseok begins, his voice hesitant. "I'm moving in with Jake and Beomgyu next month for the new school year."

You blink, taken aback by the news. "What? Really?" You knew Sungchan and Eunseok's friendship had become strained the more Sungchan mistreated you, but you never thought Eunseok would leave their apartment.

Eunseok sighs, running a hand through his damp hair. "Yeah. There's no reason to stay. Sungchan's been a dick to me ever since you two stopped being friends, and I'm over it. I can't keep babying him to get him to say why he's so pissed at me."

You place a hand on his arm, offering a reassuring squeeze. "You never did anything to him, Eunseok. He's the one who's been unfair."

He smiles at you, his eyes softening. "Thanks for understanding. It means a lot."

"If you need help moving out, just shoot me a text," you offer, trying to lighten the mood.

Eunseok chuckles, his mood lifting a bit. "If you came to help, we probably wouldn't be moving things. We'd be making out."

You laugh, feeling the tension ease. "You're probably right." You stand up, brushing the sand off your legs. "I'm gonna use the bathroom, and then we can head out."

As you roam the halls of Anton's large home, you hear faint mumbling and the sound of stumbling footsteps. You turn a corner and see Sungchan, very drunk and barely able to stand. He mumbles to himself, his eyes unfocused.

You hesitate, debating whether to help him or not. Against your better judgment, you approach him. "Sungchan, are you okay?"

He looks at you, his eyes watery and confused. "I'm... I'm fine," he slurs, but then he nearly falls over.

You catch him just in time, steadying him. "Come on, let's get you to a bedroom." You guide him to the nearest room, setting him down on the bed. He clings to you, his tears flowing freely.

"I miss you," he cries, his voice broken. "I'm so sorry. I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have put Yuri first. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

You try to calm him down, patting his back gently. "It's okay, Sungchan. I'm over it."

He shakes his head, his grip tightening. "No, you're not. I know you. You're still hurt, and I'm sorry."

You nod, feeling anxious with how unconsolable he is. "Okay, all is forgiven."

He pauses, his sobs quieting for a moment. "Will you be at my birthday? You've never missed one."

You feel as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped on you. You had completely forgotten about Sungchan's birthday. You glance at a calendar in the room and see that it's August 24th. His birthday is in a little over two weeks.

Lost in your thoughts, you struggle to understand how you forgot something that used to mean so much to you. You also take a moment to acknowledge that he's drunk and might not actually want you at the party. But at the same time, you realize that if you don't go, it might really signify the end of your friendship.

"I'll think about it," you finally say.

Sungchan looks at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I envy Eunseok."

You're confused. "Why?"

He sighs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because he had the balls to do what I was always too scared to do."

Your heart races, shock and anger flooding your system. Sungchan starts to lean in as if to kiss you, but then the door swings open, and Eunseok walks in.

"Eunseok!" you exclaim, scooting back quickly.

Eunseok's eyes darken as he takes in the scene. "What's going on?" he asks, his voice tense. He strides over, grabbing Sungchan by the collar of his shirt.

"Nothing happened," you say quickly, stepping between them. "He's drunk."

Eunseok looks at you, his jaw clenched, and then back at Sungchan. After a tense moment, he lets go, taking a step back. "Let's get out of here," he says, his voice tight.

You nod, taking Eunseok's hand and leading him out of the room, leaving Sungchan behind. As you walk down the hallway, you can feel the anger radiating off of Eunseok.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

"It's not your fault," he replies, his voice softening. "Let's just go."

As you step outside, the cool night air hits you, and you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart and mind. Eunseok pulls you close, wrapping an arm around you protectively.

"I don't feel comfortable with Sungchan around you," he admits, his voice low and tense.

You stop walking and turn to face him, holding his gaze. "Nothing happened, Eunseok. He’s drunk and upset. I just helped him because I felt bad seeing him like that."

Eunseok's eyes search yours, his frustration evident. "Then why was he leaning in to kiss you?"

You hesitate, the words you shared with Sungchan replaying in your mind. "I... I don’t know," you finally say, averting your eyes.

Eunseok's expression tightens, a mix of hurt and anger flashing across his face. "You don't know?"

Silence hangs heavy between you, the tension almost palpable. "Whatever," he mutters, turning away. "Let's just go."

The drive to your dorm is tense and awkward, the silence thick with unspoken words. You glance over at Eunseok, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. Your mind drifts back to the conversation with Sungchan, replaying his drunken confession and how upset you were by it.

How dare he say he envies Eunseok? This is the same Sungchan who told you that your feelings for him disgusted him, who pushed you away and left you heartbroken. Now he’s jealous that Eunseok had the courage to be honest about his emotions? It's complete bull, and the more you think about it, the angrier you become.

You try to shake off the thoughts, but they cling to you like a shadow. The car ride stretches on, the silence deafening. You steal glances at Eunseok, wanting to say something, anything, to break the tension, but the words won’t come.

When you finally reach your dorm for the summer, the weight of the evening presses down on you. Eunseok parks the car and gets out, walking you to your door like he always does. The silence between you feels almost unbearable.

"Eunseok," you start, reaching for his hand, but he pulls away, his frustration evident.

"I just need some space right now," he says, his voice strained.

Fear grips your heart. "Are you... are you breaking up with me?”

His expression softens slightly, and he shakes his head. "No, I’m not breaking up with you. I'm still very much into you and our relationship. But it's clear you're hiding something, and until you’re ready to be honest with me, I need some space."

Tears well up in your eyes as he steps closer, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Make sure you eat something before going to bed," he murmurs, his voice softer now. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," you whisper back, watching as he turns and walks away.

You enter your dorm, the silence of the empty room echoing the silence that had filled the car. You collapse onto your bed, the events of the night swirling in your mind.

As you lie there, you realize that despite everything, you need to be honest with Eunseok. He deserves to know the truth, even if it’s painful. But for now, you need to process everything that happened and figure out how to tell him.

You curl up on your bed, feeling the emptiness of the room around you. The conversation with Sungchan plays over and over in your mind, his tearful apologies, his regrets, and his jealousy of Eunseok. It all feels so surreal, like a bad dream you can’t wake up from.

Eventually, exhaustion takes over, and you drift off to sleep, hoping that tomorrow will bring some clarity and a chance to make things right.

The following morning you wake up to a ding from your phone. You groggily reach for the device and see a string of text messages from Eunseok. Your heart skips a beat as you open the first one.

[seokie 🪨]: I'm sorry

[seokie🪨]: I fully trust you. If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened.

Relief washes over you as you read the third message.

[seokie🪨]: Are we okay?

You feel a mix of relief and guilt. He's not mad, but you still haven't been completely honest with him. You quickly type a response, your fingers trembling slightly.

[you]: we're good. can i come over?

His reply is almost immediate.

[seokie🪨]: Of course. Do you want me to pick you up?

You smile, shaking your head as you respond.

[you]: no need, i'll walk it's not far

You get ready, feeling a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. When you arrive at his place, Eunseok greets you with a kiss, his touch warm and reassuring.

"I have a surprise for you," he says, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Curiosity piqued, you follow him into the kitchen, where you're met with an array of baking items laid out on the counter. Your heart swells with emotion, remembering how you once told him about your love for baking to ease stress.

"You remembered," you say, touched. You wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," you repeat, kissing him.

Eunseok smiles, his eyes twinkling. "I know you already forgave me, but I wanted to do something nice for you anyway."

The two of you start baking a cake, following a recipe Eunseok had found. You're impressed by his dedication to measuring out the exact portions, his concentration making you smile.

"Where did you find this recipe?" you ask, amused by his precision.

"Pinterest," he replies, grinning. "Seemed like a good one."

Once everything is mixed and the cake is in the oven, you sit on the counter and Eunseok steps between your legs, his hands resting on your hips.

"Where do you see our relationship going?" he asks, his voice soft but serious. "I know it's early, but I really like you."

You look into his eyes, feeling the sincerity in his words. "I like you too, Eunseok. I see us going far. I want to keep exploring this."

He smiles, relieved. "What about your living situation next semester? Are you still moving in with Yujin and Karina?"

You nod. "Yeah, I am. It'll be nice to have some independence and be with friends."

Eunseok leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "I'm glad. I want you to be happy."

You smile, feeling a playful urge. "Speaking of happy," you say, grabbing a handful of flour and tossing it at him.

Eunseok laughs, grabbing some flour and tossing it back at you. A full-blown flour fight ensues, both of you laughing and dodging each other's attacks. You relent when you see you're losing, flour and batter everywhere.

Eunseok takes your hand. "Let's get cleaned up."

He leads you to his bedroom, and you start to undress. He begins to leave to give you privacy, but you catch his arm.

"Join me?" you ask, your voice soft and inviting.

He hesitates for a moment, then nods, a smile playing on his lips. You take his hand and walk into the bathroom, you get into the shower first and look at him, completely vulnerable as he stares at your naked body.

He’s quick to strip and then steps into the shower with you, pressing you against the wall, his mouth already on yours. A wanton moan leaves your lips when he slides his hands down your sides as he tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss. He places a hand on your right breast playing with it, he lightly pinches and rolls your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

You moan against his mouth which causes him to smirk before pulling away and angling his head down until his lips wrapped around your right nipple, which he had neglected before, sucking gently. His tongue swirls around the flesh and his teeth graze over your nipple.

“Please don’t stop.” You breathily whine, caught up in the feeling of your boyfriend sending you over the edge.

He slowly pulls away from your chest and places one last kiss on your lips. “We don’t want our cake to burn.”

He steps away from you completely and gets to work on lathering your body with his wash. You lift your eyes to look at him but he doesn’t return your gaze and continues to wash your body. You pout deeply and reach out to grab his hand to place back on your breast.

“Seok please!”

Eunseok remains expressionless for a few seconds until a small smile creeps up his face. His hand roughly squeezes the breast it’s resting on before he snakes his way up your body again and you think it’s to hold you steady by your shoulder, but you gasp when he seizes his large hand over your throat.

“Eun—”

He squeezes your neck and you moan, hands flying to grab his wrist. “Don’t be a brat.”

He gives you one more warning squeeze before pulling his hand away from your neck. Feeling dejected and slightly annoyed you stand still and let him finish bathing you.

Once he finishes rinsing the soap off your body and washing down his own body and hair, the two of you exit the bathroom. Eunseok dresses you in one of his shirts and a pair of sweats. "You look good in my clothes," he teases, kissing your forehead.

"Is Sungchan home?" you ask, suddenly remembering the previous night's tension.

"No," Eunseok replies, shaking his head. "He went out with friends."

You feel a bit more at ease as you head back to the kitchen to decorate the cake. Despite your best efforts, it turns out looking a bit discombobulated, but the laughter and fun make it worth it.

"At least it tastes good," you say, taking a bite and grinning.

Eunseok laughs, nodding. "We tried."

He grabs some boxed wine, and the two of you sit on the couch. You take a deep breath, deciding to finally be honest with him.

"About last night," you start, your voice trembling slightly. "Sungchan was really drunk. He... he told me he misses me and that he's sorry. He said he envies you because you had the courage to do what he couldn't."

Eunseok's expression darkens, but he nods for you to continue. "How do you feel about all this?"

"Angry," you admit, tears pricking at your eyes. "He told me my feelings for him disgusted him, and now he's jealous?"

Eunseok sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Are you going to his birthday party?"

You hesitate, unsure how to respond. "I feel like I should," you finally say. "For closure."

Eunseok's jaw tightens. "I would prefer if you didn't."

You frown, frustration bubbling up. "I have to go, Eunseok. We were friends for years. I need to hear him out."

He shakes his head, his frustration evident. "You don't have to do anything. You want to go, and I wish you could be honest about that."

Your eyes narrow, feeling a surge of anger. "We’ve been friends for years, I can’t just act like he means nothing just because a few months have passed!”

Eunseok's eyes flash with frustration. "A few months? He treated you like crap, and now you're willing to just forgive him because he’s drunk and feeling sorry for himself?"

You stand up, pacing the room. "It's not about forgiving him, Eunseok. It's about closure. I need to understand why he did what he did."

"Why do you need closure from someone who hurt you so badly?" Eunseok snaps, standing up as well. "He had his chance, and he blew it."

You turn to face him, your own anger rising. "You don't understand. He was my best friend. I need to at least try to get some answers."

Eunseok takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "And what if he tries to pull something again? What if he says more things to mess with your head?"

"I can handle it," you insist. "I need to do this for myself."

He shakes his head, his expression a mix of anger and hurt. "You’re not listening to me. I'm telling you this isn't a good idea."

"And I'm telling you that I have to go," you say, your voice firm.

Eunseok's face hardens. "Fine. Do what you want. But don't expect me to be okay with it."

"Why can't you support me on this?" you plead, feeling a knot of frustration and desperation tighten in your chest.

"Because I care about you!" he shouts, his voice echoing in the small space. "I don't want to see you get hurt again."

You feel tears welling up, but you blink them back. "I care about you too, but this is something I need to do."

Eunseok clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white. "Then go. But don't expect me to be waiting here with open arms."

You stand there for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. "I didn't think you'd be so controlling," you whisper, hurt evident in your voice.

His eyes widen with a mix of shock and anger. "Controlling? I'm trying to protect you!"

"I don't need protection from you," you snap back. "I need understanding."

Eunseok glares at you, his jaw tight. "Well, I guess we’re at an impasse."

"Yeah," you agree, your voice shaky. "I guess we are."

Without another word, you grab your things and head for the door. Eunseok doesn’t stop you, and the silence is deafening as you walk away. Just as you’re about to step out, you hear him mutter something under his breath, but you can’t make it out. 

You leave, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. You wanted today to be a step towards healing, but now it feels like everything is falling apart.

Eunseok watches you go, his heart heavy with frustration and regret. He grabs the boxed wine, takes a long drink, and slams it down on the coffee table, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

You storm into Sohee's dorm room, your anger radiating off you in waves. "Can you believe that? He thinks he owns me or something!"

Sohee looks up from his desk, concern etched across his face. "What happened?" he asks, motioning for you to sit down.

You start pacing instead, the words spilling out in a rush. "Eunseok and I had this huge argument. He doesn’t want me to go to Sungchan’s birthday party. I told him I need closure, but he’s acting like I’m betraying him or something."

Sohee listens intently, his brow furrowing as he takes in your words. When you finally stop to catch your breath, he leans back in his chair, considering his response carefully. "Okay, let's break this down. Eunseok is your boyfriend now, right? So, naturally, he's going to be protective."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "Protective? It feels more like he’s being controlling. He doesn’t get to tell me what to do."

Sohee shakes his head. "It's not that simple. Eunseok was just looking out for you. It’s not wrong for him to be upset about you wanting to go see Sungchan—the very guy who hurt you. Put yourself in his shoes. How would you feel if he wanted to hang out with an ex who hurt him?"

You pause, the anger starting to ebb as you think about it. "I... I guess I’d feel pretty insecure."

"Exactly," Sohee says, leaning forward. "You’re dating Eunseok now. Of course, it won’t make him happy to see his girlfriend run into the arms of the man she loved for years, especially now that Sungchan is saying those feelings are returned."

Your shoulders slump, and you let out a sigh. "I didn’t think about it like that. I just... I need closure. I need to understand why Sungchan did what he did."

Sohee gives you a sympathetic look. "I get that. But if you really feel like going to Sungchan’s party is the only way you can move on, then maybe you shouldn’t be dating Eunseok right now. It’s clear you have more things to work through."

"That’s not fair," you protest, tears pricking at your eyes. "I really love Eunseok, but I need to know why Sungchan chose to hurt me that way."

"So ask him," Sohee says gently. "There’s no need to feed into something Sungchan wants. Just ask him directly. That way, you get the answers you need without disrespecting your relationship with Eunseok."

You sit down, the weight of Sohee’s words settling over you. "You’re right. I should just ask him."

Sohee smiles, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You can do this. And remember, Eunseok loves you. He’s just trying to protect you."

Feeling more resolved, you pull out your phone and text Sungchan.

[you]: hey, are you free? i need to talk to you

You send the message and take a deep breath, hoping this will help you find the closure you need without jeopardizing your relationship with Eunseok. Sohee watches you, a supportive presence in the midst of your turmoil. "Good luck," he says softly. "I know it’s not easy, but you’ll get through this."

You nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Thanks, Sohee. I really needed to hear that."

"Anytime," he replies with a warm smile. "Just remember, you’re not alone in this. You’ve got people who care about you."

You nod, feeling a bit lighter. "I know. And I’m going to make things right with Eunseok."

"That’s the spirit," Sohee says, giving you an encouraging thumbs-up. "Go get 'em."

You and Sohee continue to chat, your conversation shifting to lighter topics as you unwind from the emotional turmoil of the past few days. As you talk about your plans for the upcoming semester and some of the fun things you’ve got planned with your friends, your phone buzzes with a notification. It’s a message from Sungchan.

[sungchan]: i'm free tomorrow

[sungchan]: how about we meet at 3?

You glance at Sohee, who raises an eyebrow in question. "Sungchan says he’s free tomorrow at 3. I guess it’s happening."

Sohee nods. "Good. Get it out of the way so you can move forward."

You quickly type back a reply, agreeing to meet Sungchan at the boba shop near campus. "It’s set," you say, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. "I’m meeting him tomorrow."

Sohee gives you a reassuring nod. "You'll do fine. Just stay honest and keep your cool."

You smile, grateful for his support. "Thanks, Sohee. By the way, do you think you could help me pick out a gift for him?"

Sohee looks surprised. "A gift? For Sungchan? Why?"

"It’s a parting gift," you explain, your voice soft. "Something to signify the end of our friendship, in a way. I just want to leave things on a good note."

Sohee sighs but eventually nods. "Alright. I get it. Let’s go to Target and see what we can find."

The two of you head to Target, wandering through the aisles as you think about what to get Sungchan. You want it to be something meaningful, something that represents your time together. As you pass the toy section, your eyes land on a LEGO set, and a memory from your childhood flashes before you.

"This is perfect," you say, picking up the box.

Sohee looks at it curiously. "A LEGO set? What’s the importance behind it?"

"It was the first one we built together," you explain, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "The first time I ever went to his house. It seems like a fitting end for us."

Sohee nods, understanding. "That’s a good idea. It’s personal and meaningful."

You also grab a card, planning to write Sungchan a note to go along with the gift. As you make your way to the checkout, Sohee gives you an encouraging smile. "You’re doing the right thing."

"I hope so," you reply, feeling a mix of emotions. "I just want closure."

After paying for the LEGO set and the card, you and Sohee leave Target and decide to get some food together. Sitting in a cozy corner of a small café, you talk about everything and nothing, trying to keep your mind off the upcoming meeting with Sungchan.

"So, are you nervous about tomorrow?" Sohee asks, sipping his coffee.

"A little," you admit, stirring your drink absentmindedly. "But I think it’ll be good for me. I need to understand why he hurt me the way he did."

Sohee nods thoughtfully. "Just remember to stay calm. Don’t let him get under your skin. You’re doing this for you, not for him."

"Yeah," you agree. "Thanks, Sohee. For everything."

"Anytime," he says with a grin. "That’s what friends are for."

You spend the rest of the afternoon chatting and laughing, the heavy weight of your worries lifting slightly with each passing moment. By the time you part ways, you feel a bit more prepared for the conversation with Sungchan.

___

The next day arrives, and you find yourself standing outside the boba shop, clutching the bag with Sungchan’s gift inside. Taking a deep breath, you push open the door and step inside.

Sungchan is already seated at a corner table, looking pensive. When he sees you, he gives a small, hesitant smile. You walk over and sit down across from him, setting the bag on the table.

"Hey," you say softly.

"Hey," he replies, his eyes darting to the bag. "What’s that?"

"It’s a gift," you say, pushing it towards him. "Happy early birthday."

He looks surprised but takes the bag, pulling out the LEGO set. His eyes widen in recognition, and a sad smile forms on his lips. "I remember this. The first one we built together."

"Yeah," you say, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I thought it was a good way to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Sungchan's eyes widen in surprise.

You nod, your expression serious. "What you did those three months ago wasn’t fair, and what you pulled at the party most definitely wasn’t okay. I’m only here to hear you explain yourself so I can move on. Eunseok has been good to me, and he doesn’t deserve me half-assing our relationship."

Sungchan nods, looking down at the table. "I meant what I said at Anton’s. I am sorry for pushing you away."

You shut it down, your voice firm. "I don’t want an apology or any excuses, Sungchan. I want an explanation."

He clears his throat, his voice shaky. "I started crushing on you when we were in high school, but I didn’t say anything because I was scared I would mess things up."

You cut in, your tone sharp. "Oh, so leading me on for years was the better option?"

"No," Sungchan says, shaking his head. "It was cruel, and I should have just been honest, but I didn’t want to lose my best friend. I thought if I told you how I felt and it didn’t work out, I would have lost you for no reason. But if I gave you the hope we could be something, at least you would stick around."

Your heart aches, feeling betrayed. "Was it worth it? Because you’ve lost me anyway."

He looks down, his face full of regret. "No, it wasn’t worth it. I’m sorry."

You shrug off his apology, determined to get to the bottom of things. "And what about Yuri? Why date Yuri if you apparently like me?"

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought it was time to move on. I didn’t have the guts to be honest after all these years, so why keep leading you on? When you and Eunseok started dating, it made me angry. It took Eunseok a week to do something I’d been dreaming of for years. It’s not right, and I’m not trying to excuse it, but that’s why I did it."

Your anger flares. "You think that justifies anything? You hurt me, Sungchan. You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. And then you have the nerve to act jealous when I finally find someone who cares about me?"

He looks up, his eyes filled with remorse. "I know I was wrong. I was selfish and scared, and I took it out on you. I’m truly sorry."

You shake your head, tears of frustration and betrayal welling up. "I trusted you. I thought you were my friend. But you were just playing me for years."

"No," he protests weakly. "I wasn’t playing you. I cared about you. I still do."

"It doesn’t matter," you say, your voice breaking. "You were never my friend. A real friend wouldn’t have done what you did. And I’m fine with us no longer being in each other’s lives."

Silence falls between you, heavy and suffocating. Sungchan looks like he wants to say something, but you’ve heard enough. You stand up, your heart aching but resolute.

"Goodbye, Sungchan," you say, your voice firm.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with regret. "Goodbye."

You turn and walk out of the boba shop, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of the past few months feels heavy on your shoulders, but with each step, you feel a little bit lighter. You know it’ll take time to heal, but you’ve taken the first step towards moving on.

As you walk back to your place, you think about Eunseok and how much he means to you. You know you need to make things right with him, to show him that you’re committed to your relationship.

When you get home, you take a deep breath and pick up your phone, texting Eunseok.

[you]: can we talk? i need to explain everything

His reply is immediate.

[seokie 🪨]: Of course. Come over whenever you’re ready.

You gather your thoughts, feeling a mix of nerves and determination. You know it won’t be easy, but you’re ready to fight for your relationship with Eunseok. You grab your keys and head out the door.

The walk to Eunseok's place is brisk, each step echoing your anxious thoughts. When you arrive, you hesitate for a moment before knocking on his door. He opens it almost immediately, his expression a mix of concern and hope.

"Hey," he says softly, stepping aside to let you in.

"Hey," you reply, trying to muster a smile.

The tension is palpable as you both make your way to the living room, sitting down on opposite ends of the couch.

For a few moments, the silence hangs heavy between you. Finally, you take a deep breath and decide to break it.

“Eunseok, I’m really sorry for how I behaved last night. I was out of line, and I didn’t mean to make you feel like your feelings didn’t matter."

He looks at you, his expression softening slightly, but there’s still a hint of tension in his eyes. "I appreciate that.”

You nod before carefully adding, “…I also met with Sungchan today.”

Eunseok's jaw tightens, and his eyes flash with annoyance, but he stays silent, waiting for you to continue.

"I needed closure," you explain. "I needed to understand why he did what he did. And... I needed to make sure I was fully committed to us."

Eunseok nods slowly, his gaze fixed on you.

"And did you get the closure you needed?"

You nod, feeling the weight of the past few months lifting slightly. "| did. I realized that he was never really my friend. He was just... scared and selfish. And while that hurt, it also made me see things clearly. Eunseok, our relationship means so much to me. I want to make you my priority."

Eunseok's expression softens yet again and he reaches out, taking your hand in his. "I'm sorry too, for how l approached the conversation yesterday. I was just... scared of losing you. I know it's not an excuse, but I should have handled it better."

You squeeze his hand, feeling a surge of relief and affection. "I understand. And I'm sorry for making you feel that way. I promise, from now on, I'll be more open with you. No more secrets."

Eunseok pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I'm just glad we're talking about this. I don't want to lose you either."

You bury your face in his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "You won't. I promise."

As you hold onto him, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. Eunseok is the one who’s always been there for you, and you’re grateful for that. A small part of you even feels thankful to Sungchan for breaking your heart because everything he didn’t say and do led you to Eunseok.

Pulling back slightly, you look into Eunseok’s eyes, feeling a surge of affection. "I’m really happy you’re my person, Eunseok."

He smiles, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "And I’m happy you’re mine."

In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you and Eunseok will face them together. Your past with Sungchan is behind you, and your future with Eunseok looks bright and full of promise.

[lavandulawrites]

Yandere Alphabet With Lyney

Yandere Lyney x reader

Thank you!<3

Masterlist

Warnings: murder, violence, imprisonment, manipulation

Word count: 2205

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Lyney loves with his every being. As the ever romantic, his love is suffocating. His touches are constant and playful. He really can’t get enough of you. He will make performances inspired by you as a way of showing his love for you. He will constantly swarm around you, ignoring your annoyed expression. It’s intense and you can’t get him to stop.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As a member of the Fatui, Lyney doesn’t mind blood. He does however not wish for his sweetheart to see his misdeeds. You’re too kind for such darkness. He will give the people around you a chance to redeem themselves. If he sees them as treats, he will kill them. He knows how important family is, so he doesn’t want to kill yours, but sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to.

Such is life.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Lyney is a natural tease, so he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to tease his love. He will mock you with flowery words, making you just nearly miss the mockery. Other than his mocking comments, he will treat you like a princess. He will only bring you the finest of gifts and hold you gently.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Not too much except forcing you to be apart of his magic shows. He will dress you up in pretty costumes and drag you on stage, flaunting his beautiful lover with a grin. He doesn't’ care if you have stage fright, he needs you as a part of his show. You are his lucky charm.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Lyney is extremely vulnerable deep down. He have experienced a lot of pain and he doesn’t want to lose you too. He will be transparent with his love for you. He will confess to you with a rainbow rose in hand in the sunset. Barring as much of his heart as possible. He will however not mention the Fatui. It’s best for you to not know.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

If you fought back Lyney would be hurt, but not surprised. He really loves you and he wishes for you to love him back so he will try to compromise with you. He will let you out of the house and walk around town with you and the wilderness if you would like, but in exchange you have to refrain from snapping back at him.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Lyney loves games and will never pass up on one. Of course he loves you more than he can ever express, but he just can’t hold back his laughter when he caught you in the vents of the house. He will purposely leave his key on the dining table when he leaves for rehearsals (he has two sets of keys).

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Your worst experience with the magician was when you stumbled upon him on the side of a remote road. You have decided to take a detour to your home since the weather was good. Lyney had been standing over something resembling a human body. His face splattered in red and his eyes crazed. You had let out a bloodcurdling scream and tried to run away, but he tackled you down. With frantic breathing he told you he had to kill your beloved friend in order to protect you.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He wants to marry as quickly as possible with all the children from The House of the Hearth as weeding guests. He will arrange a beautiful and romantic wedding and a tranquil honeymoon. Family is everything for Lyney so he wants to have children with you in the future. He wishes to live happily ever after with you. He will never leave you and you won’t ever be able to leave him.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Lyney is an extremely jealous man. His jealousy is all devouring. He will always have his arm around your waist if possible. He won’t hesitate with showing your admirers the way of the Fatui. He gets jealous when you talk to anyone besides him (his siblings are the only exception).

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He’s extremely flirty and touchy. He treats you like a princess and loves to spoil you. Every time he gets home he will gift you flowers (he says you can never get enough rainbow roses). He is a good actor and his act of a charming prince almost too good.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Lyney is extremely cunning and knows exactly what to say and when to say it. His observant eyes missies nothing and he is able to come up with a plan on how to win your heart, with 100% chances of success (on his part naturally).

He sets up a scenic spot decorated with a 1000 red roses. A flock of white doves flies out of his top hat. He preforms various tricks that is sure to capture the heart of the audience. When the moon hangs high in the night sky, your heart is already his.

Mask: Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

The magician is already a two-faced man before he meets you given his position within the Fatui. When he meets you he showers you in sweet words and romantic compliments. When he crosses pats with someone he deems a threat to you or your relationship, his personality is completely different. He became cold and ruthless, showing no mercy as he skilfully slays them. If someone is to tell you about his two-faced behaviour, he is quick to silence them. No one is allowed to taint his rose.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Lynsey’s punishments are as unpredictable as his many tricks. Some days he doesn’t really feel like punishing you and other days he really makes it clear that he is the successor of The House Of the Hearth.

His punishments either consist of lack of food or solitary confinement. He isn’t too fond of punishments, but he recognises the effects it has that is in favour for him.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You’re allowed to roam the streets with either him or his two siblings if you behave well. Lyney deep down wishes for your relationship to be somewhat normal, but if you are making it extremely difficult, he won’t hesitate to confine you within his home.

You’re allowed to read as many books as your heart desires and he even let you keep a little cat as a pet.

He will take you to his shows where he is thrilled to preform for his beloved.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

When it comes to magic and his duties in The House of the Hearth he sees himself as a really patient man, but when it comes to you it’s a whole other story. His poor heart cannot bear seeing you on your own in this big dangerous world. He knows he needs to take his time, but oh is it difficult.

When he finally has you within his arms he will no longer be patient. He has been waiting for so long, so what harm is there?

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you manage to escape from the great magician, he will do anything in is power in order to get you back. He will ask Father for help and despite her cold exterior, she will agree; because family is the most impotent thing and you have become a part of Lyney’s family. You’re to be weeded after all.

If you die Lyney will never be able to move on. His magic shows will decrease in quality and his work within the Fatui will be halfhearted. He will eat less and less and he will never see the point of living ever again. He will wait for his end, but never chase it. He cannot leave his siblings, even if it means finally being with you.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Lyney will at first feel a little guilty from separating you from his family. He knows more than anyone else how important family is. He will seek his sister for some advice and while she does feel bad for you, she will encourage her brother. Lynette wants her brother to be happy and she wishes for him to make a family of his own somewhere in the future.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

His horrible childhood has definitely played a big part of how he became so very possessive when it comes to you. He has always been terrified of losing those he cares about and you’re far from an exception. When he first met you and fell in love, he knew he had to protect you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Lyney hates seeing you crying and he desperately tries to cheer you up with silly little tricks. If you scream or kick, he will give you time to calm down and if that doesn’t work he will slip some calming medicine into your tea.

If you ever try to isolate yourself, he will persuade you to open your door and come and join him in front of the lit hearth. He understands that you sometimes need time for yourself, but he won’t allow you to shut him out.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

At first the blond magician seem rather harmless with his friendly smiles and his passion for the art of preforming, but under his charming smiles lurks a monster who will shy at nothing when it comes to his beloved. He lured those who have wronged you and kills them in cold blood. He will return to you with a bouquet of beautiful flowers with a gently smile.

He is unpredictable and you never know what he truly thinks as he eyes the man you had just asked for directions. In other words, Lyney is a surprisingly dangerous man.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His weakness is without a doubt his family. His duties within The House of the Hearth sometimes require him to go away from some time, resulting in his siblings being the ones to take care of you. It’s then you chances of escape are the highest.

If you do escape it won’t take long at all till he finds you and drags you back with eyes colder than the unforgiving winter in Snezhnaya.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Lyney would never hurt you, at least not physically. He loves you too much and he cannot bear to see you in pain. If he accidentally hurts you, he will never forgive himself.

He will however play with your mind in mind games in order to wear you out emotionally which results in you clinging to him.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

The famed magician will stop at absolutely nothing when it comes to you. He will let the rivers in Fontaine run red if it means you will be his only. He is a smart man and he knows how to bend the rules to his advantage. You’re more important to him than his two beloved siblings.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It will take a few months max before he finally snaps. He will follow a seamless plan which he has carefully thought out. It won’t be long after the plan has been set in motion before you find yourself tangled in his web with no escape. Just as his vision, his love is passionate and flaming, which will never ever be extinguished.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Lyney will never break you. If he sees your mental health declining he will do anything in his power to help you. Be it outings to a remote cabin in Fontaine’s beautiful wilderness or a visit to the best psychiatrist in the entirety of Fontaine. Lyney’s connections are vast and there are many who owes him favours. He will make sure you return to your old self in no time.

[chosok-amo]

Hello! I saw that your requests are open! I was going to ask, of course, if you are comfortable writing a fic about Inumaki Toge x Reader. I can imagine Inumaki being everyone's vent box, and sometimes he would want to vent too, and he confides in Reader via letters. Bonus points if you add some skinship. I have this scene in my head where Inumake and Reader are cuddling on the couch, and Reader is reading the letter out loud and comforting Inumake with his troubles and insecurities!

It's completely alright if you don't want to write this, but if you do, thank you in advance!🫶🏻

VENT BOX. INUMAKI TOGE

idk if I write this well enough and filled your expectations, but I hope you like it.

as a student at jujutsu high, toge inumaki stands out for his exceptional abilities and unique challenges. gifted with the powerful cursed speech technique, he can command anyone to follow his instructions simply by speaking. this ability makes him a formidable sorcerer, capable of turning the tide of battle with a single word. however, the power comes with a significant burden; he must be extremely careful with his words to avoid accidentally harming his friends or himself. that explains why he talks using onigiri ingredient words.

his nonabilities are also the reason why he became a natural vent box for his friends because of the lack of communication. no one would fear him to blabber his mouth and all the secrets would be buried deep down, creating a space where others feel safe to express themselves without interruption, and without being judged.

toge’s inability to engage in regular conversation means that secrets and personal stories shared with him are secure. his friends know that their words are safe with him and that he won't accidentally reveal their confidences. this creates a trustworthy space where they can unload their burdens without fear of gossip or judgment.

toge is indeed a reliable friend who truly listens without judgment. his ability to keep secrets is admired by many. however, this does not mean that he has no problems of his own. as a jujutsu sorcerer, he often faces dangerous missions. he is also burdened by the responsibility of controlling his powerful cursed speech technique. and despite his kind nature, he longs for the chance to communicate normally with his loved ones.

one sunny afternoon, you walked down the dormitory hall with a spring in your step, eager to see your beloved boyfriend, toge inumaki. the sunlight streaming through the windows bathed the hallway in a warm, golden glow, mirroring the warmth you felt in your heart.

you reached toge’s door and knocked gently, anticipating bubbling inside you. within moments, the door creaked open, and there he stood, his familiar, gentle smile greeting you. his eyes lit up at the sight of you, and he stepped aside to let you in. “salmon,” he greeted warmly, his way of saying hello.

“hey baby,” you stepped inside as you wrapped your hands around his neck, kissing his lips softly for a second. as you leaned up to kiss him, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. the feel of your body against his and the taste of your lips on his sent a jolt of electricity through him. he returned the kiss gently but with a hint of passion.

he reluctantly broke the kiss and looked down at you with a soft smile on his face before he leaned down and placed his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling his face against your neck affectionately. he inhaled your scent deeply, his body relaxing against yours. his embrace was warm and comforting, as if he was trying to savor every moment of being close to you. his breath tickled your skin as he whispered against your ear, “Ikura..”

you let out a soft chuckle, your eyes twinkling with affection as you gently cupped toge's face, turning it so he was looking directly at you. “oh, my love, were you missing me that much?” you teased, your voice laced with playful warmth.

a light blush crept up his cheeks as he realized you had caught him. he tried to feign indifference, arching an eyebrow and rolling his eyes, a classic ‘it’s not what it looks like’ gesture. but his eyes betrayed him, sparkling with a mix of embarrassment and fondness. e muttered under his breath, speaking softly so you could still hear him.

“tuna mayo...”

“maybe a little bit…”

you could feel the sincerity in his simple reply, and it made your heart swell with love. “i missed you too baby, more than you can imagine,” you continued, your fingers brushing lightly against his cheek. “gojo sent you to do too many missions with yuta, it's kinda annoying how you spend more time with him than you were with me,” you pretend to sulk.

he let out an amused scoff at your pretend sulk— chuckled at your feigned jealousy, his eyes glinting with amusement. he stepped closer to you, his arms encircling your waist as he gently pulled you against his chest, sandwiching you between his body and the wooden door. his thumb tracing small circles on your hip. the corner of his lip tugged up into a sly smirk. he leaned in a little closer and spoke in a hushed tone as if sharing a secret.

“takana...“

“jealous, are we?”

with one hand wrapped around his neck and the other playing with the zipper of his mask, you tried to avoid his gaze.

you shrug, “I mean, It's obvious, isn't it?”

he chuckled, enjoying the game of feigned jealousy you were playing. he gently lifted your chin with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze. his eyes glittered with a mix of affection and teasing.

“Ikura?”

“are you seriously jealous of Yuta?”

you chuckle and wave your hand dismissively. “nah, not really,” you say with a playful grin, taking his hand and gently leading him towards his bed. “but seriously, sweetheart, if that brush-looking gojo keeps dragging you along on missions with him, I might be,” you tease, your voice light.

he smirked and allowed you to lead him to the bed, knowing you were only teasing. he sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling you down to sit in his lap. his hands grip your thighs, a warm and familiar gesture— thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin.

he leaned his head back against the wall, the smile never leaving his face. he feigned a serious tone as he spoke, but there was still a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“okaka...”

“I’ll tell Gojo to stop sending me on missions with Yuta.”

again, wrapping your arm around his neck, you move closer to his face, smile never fading. “yeah? would you do that for me?” you whisper, lips nearly brushing his, the warmth of your breath fanning across his face. you eyes flickered from toge's captivating purple gaze to his soft pink lips before returning to his eyes.

he lets out a soft exhale, his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your breath against his face. his grip on your thighs tightens slightly, his body responding to your closeness. he looks up at you with a mixture of affection and desire in his gaze. his lips quirked into a small smirk as if inviting you to come closer. he whispered back, his voice low and husky.

“takana...”

“anything for you, baby.”

you smirked, saying, “that's what I wanted to hear,“ before closing the distance and pressing your lips to his in a tender kiss that soon became heated. his hands slid up your body, fingers gripping your hips as he pulled you even closer to him. he groaned softly as his tongue intertwined with yours, the kiss growing more intense and passionate.

he rolled you beneath him, pinning you down onto the bed as he continued to kiss you deeply. his body pressed flush against yours, his hands roaming over your body with a mixture of gentleness and possessiveness. he broke the kiss for a moment, his breath ragged and his eyes dark with desire as he whispered against your lips.

“Ikura.. ”

“god, you’re driving me crazy.”

and let's just say you spend two hours in his dorm room getting fucked by him.

two hours later, the air is thick with the scent of sweat and desire. you lay tangled in the sheets, still trying to catch your breath. toge is lying beside you, a satisfied smile on his face. one arm is wrapped loosely around your waist, his body warm against yours, still slightly glistening with a thin layer of sweat.

he leans in, nuzzling his face against your neck, his lips brushing softly against your skin. he whispers softly, his voice filled with fondness and content.

“mentaiko...”

“that was incredible…”

“hm? I'm afraid I can't walk tomorrow.”

he chuckled at your comment, his chest rumbling with laughter. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest and nuzzling his face into your hair. his hand gently running up and down your spines in a comforting gesture. he knows he went a bit too rough but he also knows that you enjoyed it as much as he did.

he smiled mischievously, his eyes glinting with a mix of affection and playfulness. he whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky— filled with a mix of pride and playful satisfaction.

“Okaka…”

“good.”

his hands gently keep stroking your back, his touch soft and caring. he whispers again, his voice a little bit cheeky this time.

“mentaiko..”

“Guess I’ll have to carry you around tomorrow then.”

playfully you hit his chest before hugging his waist, “so you want everyone in school to know that you just fuck me so hard that I can't walk?” he winces slightly at your playful hit, but his smile only grows wider at your words. wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest as he chuckled, trying to play it cool but secretly loving your teasing.

he leans down, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. He murmured softly in your ear,

“tuna...”

“maybe..”

you rolled your eyes before patting his biceps slightly, “come on babe, go clean yourself, I'll make us dinner.” you get up from the bed and pull toge's t-shirts that lying around his floor.

he watches as you get up and put on his shirt. he can't help but admire the way you look in his clothes, his eyes roaming over your body appreciatively. he grins at your commanding tone, amused by your bossiness. He stands up and stretches, his muscles flexing as he moves. but he doesn't go to clean himself immediately.

instead, he walks over to you and envelops you in a hug from behind, his arms encircling your waist. he lays his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling his face against your neck. his voice low— murmuring dirty words in your ear. you gasp after hearing the words before playfully hitting his arm, this time slightly hard, “toge!” he laughed before running to the bathroom.

he laughed heartily as he dodged your playful hits and dashes toward the bathroom, amused by your reaction. he closed the door behind him, still chuckling. a few moments passed, dinner was ready and you called out for your boyfriend from the kitchen. you put some plates on the dinner table the moment he came into the kitchen, his hair still damp from the shower, wearing nothing but a fresh pair of boxers.

“come sit, babe,” you smiling.

toge grins back at you as he takes a seat at the table, watching you arrange the food on the plates with a warm expression in his eyes. he can’t help but appreciate the domesticity of the moment, finding comfort and contentment in the simple act of sharing a meal together. he leans back in his chair, his eyes lazily roaming over your figure as you finish up preparations. he reaches for your hip, gently pulling you closer between his legs.

“takana…”

“Come sit on my lap.”

both of you are spending dinner in comfort, bodies pressed against each other as if the two hours of fucking nonstop wasn't enough to let go of longing. “yuta was here earlier, right? is he venting about maki to you again, babe?” you ask toge, throwing a glance to your behind for a moment to look at him as he plays on his phone.

toge takes his eyes off his phone for a moment, raising an eyebrow at your question. he smirks slightly at the mention of yuta venting about maki to him. It’s a common occurrence, and he's gotten used to yuta's pining for their fiery classmate.

he nods in confirmation to your question, his arms casually encircling your waist as he responds.

“Ikura..”

“yeah, it's the usual. yuta and maki are having their usual love-hate thing going on again.”

rolling your eyes in annoyance, “ugh, that stupid womanizer, I told him not to do that to you—” you put down your fork to invest your attention fully to toge. hands on his naked chest, “baby, you know you don't have to do that every time, right? you're not anyone's vent box, and sometimes it is overwhelmed.”

you know how toge wouldn't mind being everyone's vent box, all he had to do was just listen and throw some one-word answers. but your boyfriend can be a little bit people-pleaser— don't have the heart to say no when he himself feels overwhelmed, insecure, or anything.

toge leans back a little in his chair, enjoying the feeling of your hands on his chest. a small wrinkle forms on his forehead at your words. he knows deep down that what you’re saying is true but he just can’t say no, especially to people that he’s close with. he sighs and averts his gaze, avoiding eye contact. he's torn between his own discomfort and the desire to be there for his friends.

“okaka...”

“I know... but it's just how I am.”

“i know that, I know you don't mind listening to them, but it is not your job to always be there for them, you can't. you wanna be there for everyone but who's gonna be there for you?” you stroking his collarbone softly.

toge leans into your touch, enjoying the simple comfort of your fingers running over his collarbone. he looks up at you with a mixture of love and vulnerability in his eyes. he stays silent for a moment, processing your words. It's rare for him to be the focus of concern, as he's usually the one taking care of others. he lets out a soft sigh, his head dropping forward to rest on your shoulder.

“Okaka…”

“You’re right. I just don’t know how to say no.”

you stay silent for a moment, eyes focusing on your finger on his collarbone. “how about..” toge pulls his head away from your shoulder to look at you— eyebrows arise. “how about you write me a letter? write to me about how you feel, your thoughts, your insecurity, anything.” finally you meet his purple gaze, “i'll be your vent box.”

toge's eyes widen slightly at your suggestion, surprise and a hint of vulnerability shining in them. the thought of expressing his true feelings and thoughts, especially his insecurities, is a bit daunting to him. he's so used to keeping it all to himself, fearing he’ll be a burden to others.

but as he looks into your eyes, he knows he can trust you, that you’ll listen without judgment, and that you truly want to be there for him like he is for everyone else. he takes a moment to process your words, his mind already contemplating the idea. It would be a new and unusual experience for him to bear his own thoughts and feelings, instead of always being on the receiving end. he leans back slightly, his expression a mix of shyness and intrigue. he quietly nods, a small, reluctant smile on his face.

“Tuna…”

“okay, I’ll try it..”

“cool! come on, let's try it now!”

you get up from his lap and pull him to the couch. you push him to sit on the couch while you go to his desk for a second and back to him with a paper and pen before sitting next to him. “here babe, write anything you want. I'm not gonna peek until you are finished and ready for me to read, we will read it together, okay?”

you smiled at him with one hand cupping his cheek to pull him closer, giving his lips a peck. “i'll stay in your bed and you can take your time, I'll be waiting.” toge takes a moment to process your words, his heart fluttering at the supportive gesture from you. he nods, feeling a bit relieved as you reassure him that you won’t peek until he’s ready.

as you kiss his lips gently, he feels a wave of gratitude wash over him. he nuzzles his head into your hand for a moment, savoring the closeness. he watches as you get up from the couch and make your way to his bed, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the paper in front of him.

the wait stretched on, each minute feeling like an eternity. but finally, toge appeared in the doorway, the letter clutched tightly in his hand. his expression was a mixture of nervousness and anticipation as he stepped into the room and approached the bed. he could feel the weight of your eyes on him as he slowly made his way over to you.

“Ikura,” he murmured softly.

you smiled softly at him before standing up and bringing him back to the couch. he sits himself first before his hands reach out to you, inviting you to sit between his legs as he leans against the end of the couch. his toned arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his naked chest.

you take the opportunity to settle into the embrace of his strong thighs, his muscled arm enclosing you in a tight but gentle hold around your waist. his chest, bare and warm against your back, serves as a firm and comforting anchor for you. you can feel his heartbeat, steady and reassuring, thumping against your spine.

you look back at him, still smiling softly, “you ready baby? want me to read it out loud?” you ask, wanting him to be comfortable first before you read his letter.

toge nods slightly in response to your question, his expression a mix of nervousness and hope. te clutches the paper tighter in his hand, his knuckles turning white from the firm grip. the weight of his insecurity and vulnerability is evident in his tense muscles, his body language betraying the anxiousness within him.

he swallows hard, his throat bobbing with the gesture. he looks up at you, his gaze searching your eyes for reassurance. his response is a quiet whisper.

“Ikura..”

you take a deep breath and start reading the contents of his letter. as you read his thoughts and feelings, you can feel the rawness and honesty in his words. his writing is sincere and unfiltered, his sentences reflecting his inner struggles and insecurities.

your heart aches for him as you read aloud his fears of not being enough, of disappointing others, of not being able to say no. It's clear that he has been carrying these burdens alone, bottling them up inside with a mask of nonchalance.

Dear [Your Name]

I’ve been wanting to share my thoughts with you for a while now, but it’s not easy for me to talk about these things out loud. Writing them down seems to be the best way.

Lately, I’ve been feeling a lot of pressure. Sometimes, I worry that I’m not good enough or strong enough. Compared to Yuuta and everyone else, I feel like I fall short. I know I have this powerful ability, but it comes with so many restrictions. I can't even have a normal conversation without risking someone’s safety.

I fear that I’m disappointing those who count on me. The expectations weigh heavily on me, and I struggle with the idea that I might let everyone down. It’s hard for me to say no when people ask for my help, even when I’m overwhelmed. I just want to be reliable, someone people can depend on.

But sometimes, it feels like I’m wearing a mask of calm and confidence, hiding how I truly feel inside. The truth is, I’m scared of failing and of not being able to meet everyone’s expectations. I’ve been bottling up these feelings for so long, and it’s exhausting.

I’m sharing this with you because I trust you more than anyone else. You’ve always been there for me, understanding me in ways no one else can. Your support means the world to me, and I wanted you to know what’s been weighing on my heart.

Thank you for listening, even if it’s through these written words.

With all my love,

Toge

as you finish reading, your eyes meet toge’s. his vulnerability and sincerity are laid bare, and you can see the weight he’s been carrying alone. you reach out, take his hand in yours, and hold it tightly, offering him your unwavering support and understanding.

toge looks up at you, his eyes locked onto yours. there’s a mix of relief and vulnerability swimming in his gaze, his expression a reflection of the raw emotions he’s just poured out on the paper. he feels exposed, stripped bare before you, but at the same time, relieved to have finally shared the thoughts and insecurities he’s been carrying alone.

when you take his hand in yours, he tightens his grip on you, his fingers interlocking with yours as if holding on for dear life.

“baby...”

you rub your hand on his chest to his neck before back to his chest. “i'm so sorry you have to go through that alone, and I'm not there enough for you, baby.” you lock your eyes with his purple gaze.

toge’s eyes soften as you rub your hand along his chest and up to his neck. he can feel the love and care in your gesture. your words, expressing your regret and empathy, resonate deep within him, touching a part of his soul that he thought was untouchable.

he shakes his head gently, a silent protest against your apologies. the depth of his love for you is evident in his gaze as his eyes lock with yours. he speaks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“.. Mentaiko”

you rest your back against the pillow, to take a good look at your boyfriend. you hold his one hand and bring it to your lips, kiss the back of his hand. “i promise I'll always be there for you. right now, I'm your vent box. I'll be your vent box, doesn't matter how many letters you write, I'll read it and keep it for myself.”

*toge’s expression softens further as you bring his hand to your lips, the touch of your lips against his skin sending a shiver down his spine. your promise to be there for him, to be his “vent box,” resonates deep within him, and a wave of relief washes over him. he looks at you, his eyes misty with unshed tears, grateful for your unconditional love and support. he nods slightly, his hand holding onto yours tighter. he speaks quietly, his voice filled with vulnerability and raw emotion.

“.. Takana.”

“i love you, baby.”

you smiled at him, “i love you too baby,” you returned the feelings. your right hand touched the nape of his neck before pulling him closer to plant a kiss on his lips. toge’s breath hitches as you touch the nape of his neck and pull him closer, igniting a spark of desire and affection within him.

when your lips meet his in a gentle kiss, he melts into the embrace, his body pressing against yours. His hand releases yours, and his arm wraps around your waist, holding you tightly against him. he returns the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a mix of tenderness and passion. he can feel his earlier vulnerability and insecurity slowly disappearing as he loses himself in the intimate moment between you both.

[rootedinrevisions]

Friends (with Benefits) Don't: Part 4

SUMMARY: After a rough day at work leaves you shaken, you call Jake for comfort, and he surprises you by showing up at your place with a homemade lasagna and a plan to make the night better. As you unwind together, the line between casual fling and something deeper begins to blur. A heated moment in the bedroom leads to unexpected tenderness when Jake puts on a romcom, pulling you into his arms. You tell yourself it's just a movie, just a one-time thing, but as you drift off to sleep in his embrace, it becomes clear that maybe this isn’t as casual as you thought.

OTHER PART(S): PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This part leads directly into Part 5 which is the part that was previously posted as Kinktober Day 20.

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (Fingering, Marking)

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS BELOW

Things had returned to a comfortable rhythm, the kind of normalcy that wrapped around you like a favorite blanket. After giving Jake back his sweatshirt, the lingering tension that had threatened to complicate your arrangement faded into the background. Casual hookups became just that—casual, without the weight of unspoken expectations. Jake had skillfully avoided kissing you again, making it clear that the boundaries you’d established still held firm. The flirty banter flowed easily between you, each teasing remark and playful challenge a reminder of the playful connection you shared without the need for deeper intimacy.

Everything was exactly how it was supposed to be…until that night happened.

The day had been brutal. From the moment you stepped into work, it felt like everything was spiraling out of control. A mistake by another controller had nearly caused a mid-air collision between two fighter jets, and even though it wasn’t your fault, your commanding officer had ripped into you like it was. The thought of the near-disaster kept replaying in your mind: the cost, the consequences, the lives that could have been lost. You could still hear your CO’s voice echoing in your head, and the weight of it all was more than you could handle.

By the time your shift ended, you were exhausted, both mentally and emotionally. Without thinking, you grabbed your phone and dialed Jake's number. His voice was like a balm, steady and grounding, as you vented about the day. He listened intently, letting you get it all out before he spoke.

“That sounds rough, but you know it wasn’t on you,” he said. “I’ll be at your place when you get off. We’ll figure it out when you’re home, okay?”

You had given him a spare key a while back, with how often he was over, and it had never felt like a big deal. Tonight, though, you were grateful for it. Knowing he'd be there when you got home was a comfort in itself.

When you pulled into your parking lot later, the sight of his truck parked in its usual spot brought a small smile to your face. As you unlocked your door and stepped inside, you were greeted by the warm, savory smell of home-cooked lasagna, a scent that immediately wrapped you in a sense of comfort. You paused, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply, letting the smell soothe your frazzled nerves.

“Is that… lasagna?” you called out, walking into the kitchen, where Jake was hovering over the stove, a dishtowel thrown over his shoulder.

He turned and grinned. “You said it was your favorite. I had to make some calls to my grandma to get the recipe right, but I think I pulled it off.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t even know you could cook.”

Jake wiped his hands on the towel and crossed the room to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. His embrace was firm and warm, like he was silently telling you everything would be okay. “How you holding up?” he asked quietly, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“Better now,” you admitted, letting yourself relax against him.

He pulled back just enough to look down at you. “Go shower, unwind. I’ll finish up in here.”

You shook your head, “Are you sure? I can help—”

He gave you a gentle shove toward your bedroom. “I got it. Go. Relax. You need it.”

Reluctantly, you let him take control, heading to your room to shed the weight of the day under the hot spray of the shower. By the time you were done, the tension had started to melt away, and when you walked back into the living room, Jake had plated two servings of lasagna on the coffee table.

The two of you sat on the couch, your legs tucked underneath you as you dug into the food. You couldn't help but grin as you put on the latest episode of that ridiculous reality TV show you’d been addicted to lately.

“You seriously watch this crap?” Jake asked, shaking his head as he took another bite.

“Yes,” you said, laughing at his obvious disdain. “And tonight, you are too.”

He groaned but didn’t protest further, begrudgingly watching along with you. He complained at all the ridiculous moments, pointing out the absurdity of it all, but you could tell he didn’t mind. If anything, the way he’d set all this up, from the meal to indulging your guilty pleasures, made you feel a little lighter, as if the weight of the day was slowly fading with every smile he brought to your face.

The conversation had started light, a casual back-and-forth while you both finished your dinner and the last few minutes of the reality show played out on the screen. But somewhere along the way, your mind drifted, and you found yourself asking a question that you hadn’t planned on.

“So, do you know where you're headed after this assignment?” you asked, your tone casual as you leaned back against the couch, resting your plate on your lap.

Jake glanced over at you, his fork hovering above his plate. “I’m not sure yet,” he admitted, a little shrug accompanying his words. “But I’m hoping to stay here for a while.”

Your brow furrowed as you processed his answer. "Here? As in, North Island?"

He nodded, taking another bite of lasagna, completely unaware of the way his response was already stirring something in you. “Yeah. I’ve talked to my superiors about it.”

You blinked, surprised. “Why? You’re from Texas. Wouldn’t you want to go somewhere like Kingsville or Fort Worth?”

Jake hesitated for a second, like he was weighing his words, before offering a shrug. “I don’t know. I like it out here in California. It’s got its perks.”

You stared at him, trying to keep your face neutral, but your mind was already racing. Sure, California was nice. The beaches, the weather—it made sense.

But something in his tone felt like there was more to it. Why would Jake Seresin, a born-and-bred Texan, who constantly talked about his love for wide-open spaces and warm southern sunsets, want to make North Island his home base?

And then, like a quiet whisper at the back of your mind, the thought surfaced: maybe it’s because of you.

You immediately pushed the thought away, dismissing it as ridiculous. Jake wouldn’t request to extend his time at North Island for some casual fling. That wasn’t who he was, and it wasn’t who you two were to each other. But then again… he probably wouldn’t make his grandma’s lasagna for a casual fling either. Or sit through hours of a show he clearly hated just to see you smile.

Your silence must have stretched a little too long because Jake glanced over at you again, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You blinked, snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of his voice. You shook your head quickly, offering him a small smile to play it off. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“Thinking, huh?” He set his plate down on the coffee table, his eyes narrowing just slightly like he could see right through the easy lie you’d just told. “Need me to help clear your head again?”

You felt the warmth rise in your cheeks, your mind immediately flashing back to the last time he had offered to do that. His mouth, the way it had moved over your skin, the way your thoughts had been wiped completely clean in the best possible way. You swallowed, biting your bottom lip as your body reacted to the memory.

Jake grinned, clearly picking up on your reaction. “That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice low and teasing, leaning in just enough to make your pulse quicken.

You let out a small, shaky laugh, trying to regain your composure. “You’re impossible, Seresin.”

“And yet, you haven’t kicked me out yet,” he shot back, his hand slipping over to your knee, his touch light but intentional.

No, you hadn’t kicked him out. And as much as you tried to tell yourself this was just a casual arrangement, there were moments like this—moments where it felt like more, where the lines blurred and you couldn’t quite tell where you stood with him. And that uncertainty was starting to mess with your head.

But for now, you pushed the thoughts aside and let Jake’s touch, his presence, wash over you. After all, that was part of the arrangement too—no overthinking, no strings, just the comfort of each other for as long as it lasted. Even if, lately, it felt like it was starting to mean a little more.

Your mind begins to wander again, thoughts circling back to everything Jake had just said, and everything he hadn’t. There’s a slight tension in your body, an internal tug-of-war that Jake seems to notice instantly. 

Without a word, he reaches for you, pulling you onto his lap in one smooth motion. His hands find their familiar place on your hips, steadying you as your knees settle on either side of him, straddling his lap. You can feel the heat of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he watches you for a moment, as if gauging whether you’re truly present.

Before you can dwell too long on the shift between you, Jake's hands slide up your sides, and he pulls you down into a kiss. It’s hot, needy, a little rougher than usual as his lips capture yours. His tongue teases your bottom lip before slipping inside your mouth, deepening the kiss until it’s all-consuming, leaving no room for your lingering doubts. You melt into him, your hands instinctively grabbing at the back of his neck, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the feeling.

Jake’s mouth moves away from your lips, trailing heated kisses along your jaw, down your neck, and onto your shoulder. His breath is warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he slides the thin strap of your tank top off your shoulder, exposing the delicate lace of your bralette beneath. He pulls back slightly, his eyes darkening as they roam over your body, taking in every inch of you.

“Damn, you're hot,” he mutters, his voice low and raspy. His words send a wave of heat through you, your body responding to the compliment in ways you can’t control. You can feel him beneath you, the bulge of his growing arousal pressing up through his jeans, and it only fuels the fire burning between you.

Without warning, Jake leans forward, his mouth descending onto your chest. His lips find the soft skin of your breast, and then his teeth gently scrape against you before he bites down, just hard enough to make you gasp. His mouth latches on, sucking at your skin, and you feel the sharp mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless. You thread your fingers into his hair, tugging lightly as his name slips past your lips in a soft moan.

Hearing you say his name like that—breathy, desperate—ignites something primal in Jake. His hands tighten on your hips as he switches to your other breast, repeating the same motion, biting and sucking until another mark blooms on your skin. You don’t even care that he’s leaving marks; in fact, a part of you likes it. You like the idea of carrying his touch on your skin, the reminder that Jake is the only one who gets to have you like this.

“I love your body,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with want. You barely have time to register the words before Jake stands, lifting you effortlessly from the couch with your legs wrapped around his waist. You tighten your grip on his shoulders as he heads toward your bedroom, the promise of what’s to come leaving you breathless and entirely consumed by him.

He lowers you onto the bed, never breaking the heated rhythm between you. His mouth is relentless, finding every inch of exposed skin as he presses you down into the mattress. Your head spins, lost in the haze of pleasure as his lips move to your collarbone, then down to the curve of your stomach, leaving a trail of fiery kisses behind. He’s not being gentle—there’s a roughness to his touch, a sense of urgency that sends shivers through your body.

You feel his teeth graze the sensitive skin just below your ribs, and then he bites down, hard enough to leave another mark. You gasp, your back arching involuntarily, your hands tangling in his hair as you moan his name again. The bite stings, but in a way that ignites a deep heat in your core, making your thighs squeeze together involuntarily.

His mouth continues to explore, claiming every inch of you as if he’s branding you with his touch, and for a while, you don’t mind. Each mark he leaves feels like a silent promise, a reminder of how he’s the only one who gets to do this to you. But then, just as his teeth find a spot near your shoulder—somewhere too exposed—you realize he’s about to leave a mark you won’t be able to cover.

“Jake,” you gasp, your fingers gently tugging at his hair in an attempt to pull him back. “I won’t be able to cover that one.”

For a moment, you think he’ll stop, but instead, Jake pauses just long enough to lift his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot on your neck as he whispers, “Then don’t.”

Your breath hitches, torn between the reality of what he’s saying and the undeniable way your body is responding to him. You know this is more than you’d agreed to, more than the boundaries of your casual arrangement, but right now, with the weight of his body pressing against yours, his hands claiming every inch of you, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“I want them to see,” he says, his voice dark and full of desire.

The words send a surge of heat straight to your core, and before you can stop yourself, you nod, a soft, breathless “okay” slipping from your lips.

Jake’s lips curve into a smug grin against your neck as he feels your body give in to his touch, your soft “okay” fueling something primal in him. He moves back, shifting his attention lower, his hands tracing down the curve of your waist as he positions himself between your legs. His breath is hot, teasing as he kisses down your stomach, the anticipation making every nerve in your body light up.

His fingers glide over the waistband of your underwear, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly pulls them down, discarding them onto the floor without breaking the heated connection between you. Then, without warning, his fingers slide between your legs, parting you, and you can’t suppress the moan that escapes your lips as he presses two fingers into you. His touch is skilled, knowing exactly where and how to make you come undone, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge with every stroke.

“Jake,” you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets as you arch into his touch, the pressure building in a delicious crescendo. His fingers move with precision, and it’s almost too much, too good.

His lips find the sensitive spot on your inner thigh, biting down just enough to make you gasp, another mark, another silent claim on your skin. Then his mouth is on you, his tongue working in sync with his fingers, driving you closer and closer to your release. You can feel the tension building inside you, your body winding tight as you near the brink.

Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Jake’s voice cuts through the haze, low and possessive. “Come for me,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “Come on my fingers.”

The command hits you like a wave, and it’s not just the words—it’s the way he says it, like he already knows you will, like you’re his to command. His. The thought sends you spiraling, and you come undone with a cry, your body shaking with the force of your release as his fingers work you through it.

He doesn’t stop, his fingers slowing but still keeping you on that edge, prolonging the sensation until you’re dizzy from the intensity, your head spinning with more than just pleasure. His mouth is still on you, kissing the marks he’s left, soothing and claiming in the same breath.

As the waves of your release subside, you feel him shift back up, his hand still gently caressing your thigh as he leans over you, his lips brushing against your ear. “You feeling better?” He whispers, the possessiveness in his voice undeniable, sending another shiver down your spine.

And in that moment, you realize that what you have with Jake isn’t as simple as you thought. It’s more, deeper—something that goes beyond the casual boundaries you both tried to set. 

As the afterglow settles over both of you, Jake leans over to the edge of the bed, grabbing the remote from the nightstand. He pulls the covers up, tucking them around you both, and with a satisfied sigh, he turns the TV on. The soft glow of the screen casts a warm light over the room, but you can’t help but let out a quiet laugh when you see the title that pops up.

“A romcom?” you tease, glancing up at him from where you’re still nestled against his chest.

Jake smirks, his arm tightening around you as he flicks through the options. “You need something light after today,” he says. “Besides, I know you love them.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. It feels strangely domestic—something more than the casual arrangement you’ve been keeping. But it’s just a movie. Friends watch movies. Friends with benefits watch movies.

You try to keep your distance, mentally reminding yourself of the rules, but before you can stop yourself, you shift closer, resting your head on his chest. Jake doesn’t hesitate, his arm slipping around your waist, pulling you in even tighter. The weight of his arm feels comforting, grounding, and for a moment, you let yourself relax into him.

“It’s just a movie,” you tell yourself. You’ll watch the movie, then he’ll leave, and everything will go back to normal.

But the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest under your cheek, lulls you into a kind of peace you haven’t felt in a while. His fingers absentmindedly trace small circles on your back, and you feel your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment.

You fight it at first, determined to keep the lines clear. But sleep creeps in, and before you know it, your eyes flutter closed, and the sound of the movie fades into the background. Jake’s arm tightens around you protectively, and you barely register the soft kiss he presses against the top of your head before sleep overtakes you completely.

[pressureplus]

❤️ Sebastian Solace as a Bestfriend Headcannons ❤️

Warnings: N/A

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

“Hey Bestie!” “Hi Bestie!”

Refuses all other greetings when its just you two

In fact, he will ignore you if you refer to him by name, he just thinks its way too funny not to do every single time…

Okay maybe its only sometimes if he's in a really good (and silly) mood, but still!

Speaking of funny, he is so much more playful with his side comments

“If I wanted to watch you get your ass kicked I’d have just done it myself.”

LOVES to use the mean girl voice, you know the one

On the subject of mean girl, OH THE GOSSIP. He loves to shit talk. Whether its about Urbanshade, the wall dwellers, people from your personal life, or otherwise

Worse. He's brutally honest.

“Your Ex sounds like the kind of person to eat soup with a fork. What did you see in them, anyway? Let me guess. Let me guess. You were desperate? Yeah, sounds like you.”

Probably lets you climb him if you're feral like that

Would also let you sit down and take a little break in his shop when you need it, doesn't mind if it takes a while for you to decompress

You don't really get discounts, friend discount is not a thing and you're gonna have to live with that! Unless, of course, you absolutely need something

Then maybe you can pay him back later…or you can pay half price

And no, this doesn't mean he likes your friends enough to do the same. Honestly he’d watch them die and feel absolutely nothing but amusement

Warns you about the people you've started traveling with if he knows something about them that you don't, he's a little bit protective of you like that

Would grab and tug you through the vent and into his shop if you were close enough and in danger

Oh and don't get it twisted, if you double-cross him? You're done. Sebastian lives in a dog eat dog world down there. He doesn't do “Second Chances” anymore

See, he likes you, but not that much. Remember where you stand next to him, stay chill, and you two will get along just fine

He might even help you escape too…for the right price