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seafarersdream · 2 months ago

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Last Friday Night | Modern AU! (Cregan Stark x Y/N)

In the realm of scandalous misdeeds, slumbering with your brother’s best friend should be a cardinal sin—dangerous liaison that Y/N Velaryon ought to steer clear of, now nor in any future reincarnation. But, oh, how the rules bend under the weight of temptation. A night of drunken sex with Cregan Stark, Jace’s insanely hot best mate and a towering 6-foot something alpine skier with ice in his veins. What a night it was! Only problem? They were both so tipsy that the details are a hazy blur, and now they awaken in a tangled mess beside each other. Word count: 5,6k

TW // Strong language and profanities, sexual content, mentions of alcohol, smoking.

“Fuck.”

That was the first coherent thought Y/N Velaryon had when she opened her eyes. Her head throbbed like a drum, each pulse a reminder of why tequila shots are the devil’s work. The room was unfamiliar—definitely not hers. The bed was too big, the sheets too expensive, and the body lying beside her too…well, fuck again.

She turned her head slowly, hoping against hope that her suspicions were wrong. Maybe it was some rando, some nameless, faceless guy who she could shove out the door with minimal awkwardness. But when she finally caught a glimpse of the dark, messy hair and the broad, bare back that could only belong to one man, she groaned internally.

Cregan fucking Stark.

Of course, it was him. It couldn’t just be some forgettable one-night stand. It had to be her brother’s best friend, the guy Jace had always been crystal clear was off-limits. And here they were, in bed together, like the setup to some bad rom-com, except this was way more fucked up.

She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to piece together what the hell happened last night. There were flashes—Jace convincing her to go to some ridiculous party at a mutual friend’s country estate (more like a palace really), the champagne flowing, the ridiculous number of shots, and the way Cregan had looked at her from across the room. Not that she'd paid much attention, or so she thought.

And then…nothing. A blank slate. Well, at least until now, when the reality of waking up next to the man Jace had declared off-limits hit her like a truck.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Y/N muttered under her breath, shifting slightly to get out of bed without waking Cregan. But the sheets rustled, and before she could even swing her legs out, a deep voice rumbled beside her.

“Morning.”

Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She froze, mid-escape, and slowly turned to face him. Cregan was wide awake, propped up on one elbow, smirking at her like the cocky bastard he was.

“Morning,” she croaked, her mouth dry as hell. “This is, um…”

“A fucking disaster?” he suggested, his grin widening.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Cregan chuckled, the sound rich and annoyingly sexy, even through her hangover. He looked far too pleased with himself, considering the circumstances. His dark eyes held hers, and for a second, Y/N was painfully aware of the fact that she was still very much naked under these sheets. So was he.

This was beyond bad.

“I remember bits and pieces,” she admitted, rubbing her temples. “But not…this. Why didn’t you stop me? Or yourself?”

“You think I could have stopped you?” Cregan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You were pretty damn determined.”

Y/N groaned, slumping back against the pillows. “Fuck. Jace is going to kill us. You know that, right? He’s literally going to skin you alive.”

“Pretty sure he’s got more important things to worry about than who his sister hooks up with,” Cregan said, stretching lazily. “Not that I’m planning on telling him.”

She shot him a look. “And how exactly do you think we’re going to keep this a secret? He’ll know. Jace always knows when I’m up to something. He’s like a damn oracle.”

Cregan shrugged, like he wasn’t at all fazed by the prospect of Jace’s wrath. Which, Y/N supposed, he wouldn’t be. Cregan Stark was all ice and steel when it came to handling pressure. Professional alpine skier, always on the edge of danger—like he didn’t have enough adrenaline in his life without adding ‘sleeping with his best friend’s little sister’ to the list.

“We just pretend it didn’t happen,” Cregan suggested, as if that was the easiest thing in the world. “Last night was a blur, and this morning’s just a bad dream. We’ll go our separate ways, no one’s the wiser.”

“You really think that’ll work?” Y/N asked skeptically.

“We won’t know unless we try,” he replied, his tone almost teasing.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d just finished uni, started her internship at a nice law firm, and was supposed to be focusing on her career. Instead, she was tangled up in the sheets with Cregan Stark, about to engage in the most complicated cover-up of her life.

“Fine,” she finally said, exhaling sharply. “But if Jace finds out, you’re the one explaining it to him.”

“Deal.” Cregan’s smirk softened into something almost genuine, and for a moment, Y/N’s stomach did a weird flip.

She quickly pushed the feeling down. This was a one-time thing, a mistake—one she couldn’t afford to repeat, no matter how tempting it might be. The last thing she needed was more complications in her life.

“Okay, I need to get out of here,” Y/N said, sitting up and scanning the room for her clothes. They were scattered across the floor, a chaotic mix of her dress, shoes, and underwear. Cregan’s clothes were mingled with hers—of course, he didn’t seem to be in any rush to get up. Typical.

As she scrambled out of bed, trying to gather her things, she felt Cregan’s eyes on her, and when she looked back, there was something in his gaze that made her pause. It wasn’t just the lazy, post-hookup look she expected. There was something else, something deeper that she couldn’t quite place. But before she could analyze it further, he smirked again, shattering the moment.

“Need any help?” he offered, his tone suggesting anything but.

“I’m good,” she replied quickly, slipping into her dress and trying to maintain whatever dignity she had left. “I’ll just, uh, see myself out.”

“Sure thing, Y/N,” Cregan said, his voice holding a hint of something she couldn’t quite identify—teasing, maybe, or was it something more?

But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She needed to get out of here, get back to her place, and pretend this never happened. As she slipped her shoes on and made a beeline for the door, she could feel his eyes on her the whole time, and it took every ounce of willpower not to look back.

The walk of shame had never been so literal.

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Y/N finally made it back to her flat in South Kensington, pushing through the ache in her head and the overwhelming need for a gallon of water and a hot shower. She fumbled with her keys, silently praying to every god she didn’t believe in that Jace would still be at the photoshoot he’d mentioned yesterday.

But as soon as she swung the door open, she knew her luck had run out.

Jace Velaryon was sprawled out on her couch like he owned the place—legs kicked up on the coffee table, remote in one hand, a half-eaten bowl of cereal in the other. He looked up as she entered, and his face lit up in that way only big brothers get when they know they’re about to cause trouble.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, a grin spreading across his face. “Look who’s doing the walk of shame this morning.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool. “Shut up, Jace. I just went for a…walk.” Even she cringed at how lame that sounded.

“A walk?” Jace repeated, raising an eyebrow. “In last night’s dress and heels? That’s a new one, even for you.”

“I wasn’t—” she started, but Jace cut her off with a laugh.

“Please, sis. Don’t even try it. I’ve known you too long to fall for that bullshit.” He sat up, clearly enjoying himself. “So, who was the lucky guy? Or girl? I’m open-minded.”

She shot him a glare, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her cheeks. “It’s none of your business, Jace.”

“Oh, come on,” he whined. “You’re my little sister. It’s literally my job to make your love life my business.”

She snorted, moving past him toward the kitchen. “Right, because you’re such an expert on relationships.”

“Hey, I’ve been in plenty of—” he began defensively, but she cut him off.

“One-night stands don’t count, Jace.”

He laughed, unfazed. “Touché. But seriously, you look like death warmed over. Was the party that wild?”

Y/N could still feel the blood rushing to her face, and she kept her back to him, rummaging in the fridge for a bottle of infused water. “Yeah, it was…something.”

“I knew it!” Jace crowed, slapping his knee. “I knew you’d have a good time once you loosened up. See, you should listen to me more often. You’re always so serious with your work stuff, but you gotta live a little, Y/N. You’re too young to be so…responsible.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Because as much as she hated to admit it, Jace had a point. Her life had been all about exams and internships lately, no time for fun or the kind of reckless behavior that usually ended with waking up next to a Stark.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Party more, work less,” she muttered, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a long drink.

Jace leaned forward, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “So, was he hot at least? This guy you left with?”

Y/N almost choked on her water. “What? I didn’t leave with anyone.”

“Right,” he said, dragging the word out. “That’s why you’re sneaking back in at ten in the morning with bedhead and makeup smudged like a panda. Come on, just tell me who it was. Was it that guy Luke introduced you to last week? What was his name…Liam? Leon?”

She shook her head, exasperated. “Hells, Jace, can you just drop it?”

Jace grinned, leaning back again. “Oh, this must’ve been a really good one if you’re getting this defensive. Come on, Y/N, I’m dying here. Give me something.”

For a second, she considered telling him the truth—just blurting it out and watching the chaos unfold. But then she thought of Cregan’s lazy smile, the way he’d suggested they just forget about it and move on. The way her brother would probably explode into a million pieces if he knew. And she decided against it.

“Fine,” she sighed dramatically. “If you must know, it was some random bloke, okay? No one you know. Just a guy. But yes, he is fit. Satisfied?”

Jace considered this, squinting at her as if trying to detect a lie. Finally, he shrugged. “I guess. But if you don’t want me to know, that just makes me want to know more. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” she replied, moving past him again, hoping he’d drop it.

He watched her go, still grinning like an idiot. “You know, you should bring him to the next party,” he called after her. “Introduce me. I promise I won’t bite…unless he’s into that sort of thing.”

Y/N groaned and flipped him off over her shoulder. “You’re disgusting, Jace.”

“Love you too, sis,” he shot back, laughing. “And don’t think I won’t find out who it is. I always do.”

She shook her head, muttering curses under her breath as she retreated to her room. She needed a shower, a coffee, and about ten years of therapy to figure out how she’d ended up in bed with Cregan Stark of all people. But first, she needed to figure out how to keep Jace in the dark. Because if he ever found out…

Well, that wasn’t even worth thinking about.

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Cregan Stark stood in the middle of his wrecked bedroom, hands on his hips, surveying the chaos. Sheets twisted, pillows on the floor, a lamp somehow knocked over. It looked like a tornado had swept through, and that tornado’s name was Y/N Velaryon.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his tousled dark hair. He tried to piece together the events of last night, but the details were hazy, like trying to grab smoke with his bare hands. He remembered flashes—the way she looked at him, the heat in her gaze, the sound of her laugh, and the taste of alcohol on her lips.

But everything after that? A blur.

Goddamn shame, too, because if there was anything he wanted to remember clearly, it was Y/N Velaryon in his bed, under him, her nails digging into his back. Fuck, he’d have liked to play that on repeat in his mind forever, but the alcohol had betrayed him, stealing away the details of what was undoubtedly the hottest night of his life.

He started picking up his last night’s clothes scattered across the floor and cursed himself again. How could he forget? He rarely drank that much, being an athlete and all, but last night…last night had been something else. He found his shirt flung over the back of a chair, his pants half-hanging off the edge of the bed. His brief were bunched up in the corner, and then—

Oh.

A small, red scrap of lace was tangled up in the sheets. He picked it up, grinning as he realized it was her G-string. She must’ve been in one hell of a hurry to leave it behind. He turned it over in his hands, feeling the delicate fabric, imagining her wearing it, and smirked.

“One hell of a merchandise,” he muttered with a chuckle, tucking the lace into his pocket. “Score.”

It was stupid, really. A goddamn G-string, and here he was, acting like he’d found a winning lottery ticket. But there was something about Y/N—something that had always pulled him in, even when he’d been trying his hardest to ignore it. Jace’s little sister, forbidden territory. He’d spent years pretending he didn’t notice how fucking gorgeous she’d grown, how smart and sharp-tongued she was. But last night had shattered all of that pretense into a million pieces.

He shoved the rest of the clothes into a messy laundry pile, wondering how long it would take for Jace to find out. Y/N was good at keeping secrets, he’d give her that, but Jace was practically psychic when it came to his sister. Cregan could already hear his best friend’s voice in his head, pissed off and protective, probably ready to bash his skull in.

But for some reason, that didn’t bother him as much as it should. He found himself smiling, still, as he started straightening up the room. Maybe it was because he liked the idea of having something that was just his and hers—something Jace didn’t know, something they could keep between them.

And hell, if it was anything like last night—at least, what he could remember of it—he wouldn’t mind making a habit of it.

As he finished tidying up, he spotted his phone on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a new message. He picked it up, already knowing who it would be.

Jace:

Yo, brunch? Need to talk to you about something.

Cregan snorted. Of course, Jace wanted to talk. He always did when something was up with Y/N. He hesitated for a second, wondering if Jace had already figured out what had happened. But nah, if Jace knew, the message would’ve been a lot less polite.

He typed back a quick reply.

Sure, mate. Usual spot?

There was a pause before Jace responded.

Jace:

Yeah, see you in 30. And don’t be late, you lazy fuck.

Cregan chuckled, tossing the phone back on the bed. Yeah, this was going to be fun. He grabbed a fresh shirt, slipped it over his head, and, with a final glance around the now semi-clean room, he headed out.

He might not remember every detail of last night, but he’d be damned if he let that stop him from figuring out how to make it happen again.

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Cregan arrived at the little brasserie they always met at, a tiny spot tucked away on a quiet street. The kind of place with faded awnings and mismatched chairs that served strong coffee and even stronger Bloody Marys. Jace was already sitting outside, a cigarette dangling from his lips, dressed in designer shades and a leather jacket that probably cost more than most people’s rent.

“You’re late,” Jace called out as Cregan approached, flicking ash into the street. “I was starting to think you’d bailed.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, mate,” Cregan replied, sliding into the chair across from him. “But, you know, mornings are a bitch.” Especially when you’ve just spent them cleaning up the aftermath of what could’ve been the best mistake of your life, he thought.

Jace smirked, passing him the pack of cigarettes. “Yeah, looks like you had a rough one. Big night?”

Cregan shrugged, playing it cool. “Something like that. But hey, speaking of big nights…” He leaned in conspiratorially, lighting his cigarette. “What’s this I hear about Aegon?”

Jace snorted, taking a drag from his own cigarette. “Oh, mate, you haven’t heard? It’s fucking priceless.” He leaned back, tapping the ash off with a grin that was half-amused, half-disgusted. “My dear cousin managed to land himself in the hospital. For his cock.”

Cregan choked on his first drag, coughing out smoke. “What?” he managed between laughs. “His cock? You’re joking.”

“I swear to god,” Jace said, holding up his hand like he was taking an oath. “Apparently, he was trying to pull off some kind of…threesome, foursome, who the fuck knows, at one of those clubs he’s always getting kicked out of. Anyway, things got out of hand, and next thing you know, he’s screaming in agony and they’re rushing him to A&E.”

Cregan was in stitches, wiping a tear from his eye. “You’re telling me Aegon actually managed to break his dick?”

“That’s the rumor,” Jace replied, chuckling. “Doctors said it was some kind of penile fracture. Can you imagine? Poor bastard was probably halfway to heaven when he got dragged right down to hell.”

“Thoughts and prayers mate, that’s rough,” Cregan said, still laughing. “How the hell does that even happen?”

Jace grinned, leaning in. “Apparently, he got too enthusiastic. Girl was on top, he was thrusting up, and…” He made a snapping motion with his fingers. “Snap.”

Cregan winced, half in sympathy, half in amazement. “Fuck me, that’s got to hurt. How long’s he gonna be out of commission?”

“Couple of months, at least,” Jace replied, blowing out a stream of smoke. “He’s already whining about it all over social media. You know Aegon. Can’t suffer in silence.”

Cregan snorted. “Sounds like him, alright. Bet he’s milking it for all it’s worth, too. Getting the sympathy votes.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Jace agreed. “He’s already got half the city sending him flowers and chocolates like he’s some kind of war hero. Even Mum’s getting involved—sending him a care package like he’s gone off to battle instead of just fucking his way into the emergency room.”

They both laughed, loud and unrestrained, the way only friends who’ve known each other too long can. The kind of laughter that turns heads from the neighboring tables, but they didn’t care. They were in their own world, swapping stories, cigarettes, and coffee.

“Honestly, though,” Cregan said after a moment, shaking his head. “Only Aegon could turn a night out into a medical emergency. Guy’s got a talent.”

Jace grinned, flicking his cigarette butt away. “Yeah, but you know what they say about talent and stupidity—it’s a thin line.”

Cregan chuckled, taking another drag. “And Aegon’s crossed it, time and time again.”

“Too right,” Jace replied, nodding. “But it makes for good entertainment. Can’t wait to see how he spins this one. You just know there’s gonna be some kind of dramatic story about how he risked it all for love or some other bullshit.”

“The hero’s journey,” Cregan quipped, smirking. “Except with more broken bones and fewer dragons.”

Jace laughed. “Fewer dragons, more dick injuries. Welcome to the modern world.”

Cregan took a long drag, blowing out smoke slowly, his mind still partially elsewhere, still thinking about the G-string tucked in his pocket. Yeah, this was the kind of gossip he could get behind, but there were other things—better things—on his mind. Like how he was going to see Y/N again without Jace getting suspicious. Because if Jace found out…

Well, he’d just have to make sure Jace never did.

Jace was mid-sip on his coffee when he caught a glimpse of something on Cregan’s neck. He blinked, did a double take, then broke into a wide, shit-eating grin that could have lit up all of London.

“Oh, no fucking way,” he practically howled, slamming his coffee cup down onto the table and leaning forward. “Is that…what I think it is?”

Cregan, who had been in the middle of stubbing out his cigarette, froze. “What the hell are you on about?”

Jace pointed, still grinning like he’d won the lottery. “Your neck, you dumbass. You’ve got hickeys all over it.”

Cregan felt his stomach drop, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he reached up, rubbing his neck as if he is already aware of them. “Oh these?”

Jace let out a loud, triumphant laugh. “Come on, don’t play dumb with me. Whoever you were with last night really went to town.”

Cregan could feel his face heat up, but he kept his expression neutral. He was an expert at this game; he’d been friends with Jace for too long to let him see he was rattled. “Maybe I just ran into a really aggressive mosquito,” he shot back dryly.

“Bullshit,” Jace cackled, smacking Cregan on the arm. “Come on, bro, spill the beans. Who was it? Who’s the lucky lady leaving marks on your neck like you’re a piece of meat?”

Cregan shifted in his seat, trying to keep his cool. He could still feel the faint burn of Y/N’s lips on his skin, and damn if that didn’t send a shiver down his spine, even now. “Just a random girl,” he said casually, waving a hand like it was nothing. “Nothing serious.”

“A random girl, my ass,” Jace scoffed, leaning closer, his grin wider than ever. “Come on, mate. I know you better than that. You don’t let just anyone mark you up like that.”

Cregan rolled his eyes, trying to deflect. “And how would you know what I do or don’t let happen?”

“Because I’ve known you for a decade,” Jace shot back, grabbing another cigarette. “You’re picky. Way pickier than me, and that’s saying something. So, whoever it was…must’ve been special.”

Cregan fought the urge to wince. If only he knew just how “special” the girl had been. He could almost see Jace’s face if he ever found out. Cregan could already imagine the explosion—the yelling, the accusations, and Jace’s unrelenting fury. Yeah, best to keep this under wraps.

He leaned back in his chair, shrugging. “You’re reading too much into it, Jace. It was just a fun night. No big deal.”

“Fun enough to leave those,” Jace said, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Seriously, they look fresh. Did you at least get her number?”

Cregan snorted, taking another sip of his coffee. “Nah. It was just one of those things, you know? No strings attached.”

“Huh, strings,” Jace snickered. “Or no strings…left, eh?”

Cregan’s hand twitched towards his pocket, where Y/N’s G-string was still tucked safely away. He felt a momentary thrill of panic, wondering if Jace could somehow read his mind, but his best friend’s smirk told him he was still in the clear…for now.

“Look, mate,” Jace said, putting out his cigarette and leaning in with a mock-serious expression. “All I’m saying is, whoever she was, she clearly had a good time. And you…you’ve got the evidence to prove it. But come on, give me something. I’m dying here.”

Cregan laughed, finally slapping Jace’s arm in return. “Alright, alright, fine. Maybe I’ll tell you…someday.”

“Oh, you will,” Jace replied, eyes twinkling with mischief. “One way or another, Stark, you will.”

As Cregan leaned back, smiling like he hadn’t a care in the world, he knew this was a situation he’d have to play carefully. Because if Jace ever found out the truth, those love bites on his neck would be the least of his worries.

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Monday arrived like a slap in the face, and Y/N was not ready. Not even a little bit. She sat at her desk, her fingers hovering over her laptop keys, but her mind was a million miles away. She was supposed to be working on some due diligence report, but instead, she was spiraling.

Full-on, out-of-control spiraling.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t had her fair share of one-night stands before. She was young, single, and sometimes she just needed to blow off steam. But this? This was different. Because it hadn’t been just anyone. It had been Cregan Stark. Her brother’s best friend. The guy Jace had practically tattooed with the words Do Not Touch where she was concerned.

And it wasn’t like she was worried about Jace finding out, not really. She was a lawyer, for fuck’s sake. She lied for a living, spun stories into gold, and could argue her way out of anything. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw Cregan’s face, felt his hands on her, and heard his deep, rumbling laugh in her ear. The memory alone sent her into a panic.

She’d needed to talk to someone. Someone who wasn’t Jace. So, of course, she’d turned to her cousin, Baela Targaryen, who was currently perched on the edge of Y/N’s desk.

“You did what?” Baela practically screeched, her voice loud enough to turn a few heads in their direction.

Y/N winced, shooting her a look. “Keep your voice down, for fuck’s sake,” she hissed.

But Baela was having none of it. She was practically vibrating with excitement, her violet eyes wide. “You slept with Cregan fucking Stark?” she repeated, but at least this time she whispered. “Holy shit, Y/N. This is…this is epic.”

Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning. “No, it’s not. It’s a disaster. A full-blown, Jace-will-kill-me disaster.”

“Are you kidding?” Baela snorted, leaning in. “Jace doesn’t have to know. And besides, Cregan’s hot as hell. I mean, have you seen him? Those shoulders? That jawline? And he’s an athlete. A pro skier. The man probably has a body like a fucking Greek god. Why are you freaking out?”

“Because it’s Cregan,” Y/N said, exasperated. “It’s Jace’s best friend. And I’m supposed to be focusing on my career, not getting tangled up with guys I shouldn’t be touching.”

Baela rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You’re young, hot, and brilliant. You can focus on your career and still have a little fun on the side. I mean, who hasn’t wanted to sleep with their brother’s best friend at some point?”

Y/N gave her a look. “Most people, Baela.”

“Well, most people are boring,” Baela shot back, grinning. “Look, you’ve always been the responsible one. The one with the plan, the one who does everything by the book. Maybe it’s time you let loose a little. And besides…” She leaned in, her grin widening. “How was it?”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, and she hated how easily Baela could do that to her. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “I mean, it was…good. Really good. But that’s not the point.”

Baela laughed, her bright, melodic sound echoing through the open office space. “Oh, that’s exactly the point. Come on, Y/N, you’re practically glowing. It must’ve been better than good if you’re this messed up over it.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to pull herself together. “It doesn’t matter. It was a mistake. A one-time thing. It can’t happen again.”

“Why not?” Baela asked, still smiling like a psychopath. “If it was so good, why can’t it happen again?”

“Because…” Y/N started, fumbling for the words. “Because it just can’t, okay? I can’t deal with the drama. And Jace will find out, and then it’ll be this whole big thing, and—“

Baela waved her off. “Jace doesn’t have to know, alright? You’re smart. You can handle it. And who knows? Maybe Cregan’s just the kind of distraction you need right now. Especially with all these dry, boring cases we’re stuck with.”

Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Yeah, a distraction is the last thing I need right now. What I need is to keep my head down and avoid any more…complications.”

“Oh, Y/N, you can do that,” Baela teased, nudging her with her elbow. “But where’s the fun in that? Life’s too short to be boring. Especially when you’ve got a Stark on your side.”

Y/N shot her a glare, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re not helping.”

“And you’re overthinking it,” Baela replied. “Look, you had a wild night with a hot guy. Enjoy it. Don’t spiral. Just…see what happens. You might surprise yourself.”

Y/N wanted to argue, wanted to tell Baela she was wrong, but deep down, she knew her cousin had a point. She was spiraling, and it wasn’t getting her anywhere. Maybe Baela was right.

Or maybe she’d end up in even deeper shit. But what’s done is done.

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Cregan slammed the barbell back onto the rack with a grunt, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The gym was quiet on a Monday afternoon, just the rhythmic thud of weights hitting the floor, the hum of the treadmill belts, and the occasional grunt from the other athletes scattered around. It was exactly how he liked it—minimal distractions, just him and the iron.

But today, he couldn’t focus for shit.

He was supposed to be prepping, getting his body in peak condition for the winter season. Autumn was crunch time for a professional skier. Every session counted, every rep, every second shaved off his sprint time mattered. And yet, here he was, barely keeping his head in the game, because all he could think about was Y/N Velaryon.

Fuck, he needed another go.

He dropped down onto the bench, grabbing a towel and rubbing it across his face, trying to clear his thoughts. But it was impossible. His mind kept replaying the brief flashes he remembered from that night—the way she’d looked up at him, her lips parted, her hands pulling him closer, nails digging into his skin like she couldn’t get enough of him.

And the way he couldn’t remember every goddamn detail was driving him insane.

He needed a do-over. A second chance to burn the memory of her into his brain properly this time. The half-forgotten fragments weren’t enough. Not even close. He wanted to remember everything—the way she tasted, the sounds she made, the way she moved against him. He wanted to savor every moment, replay it in his mind during the endless hours of training and competition.

He grabbed a medicine ball, slamming it down against the floor with a force that rattled the nearby weights. He knew he needed to get his shit together. He couldn’t afford distractions, not now, not with the season so close. But the harder he tried to focus, the more his thoughts drifted back to her.

To the way she’d looked that morning, rushing out of his flat, her hair a mess, her dress askew, and the small, scrap of lace she’d left behind like a calling card. He felt a grin tug at his lips just thinking about it. Fuck, she’d been gorgeous. And he’d been too smashed to enjoy it properly.

“Get a grip, Stark,” he muttered to himself, slamming the ball down again, trying to burn off some of the frustration coursing through his veins.

But it was no use. No matter how many reps he did, no matter how much weight he lifted, the image of Y/N wouldn’t leave his mind. He remembered the way she’d smirked at him from across the room at that party, the way her eyes had lingered on him just a little too long, like she’d been daring him to make a move.

And, oh, he’d made a move, alright. He just wished he could remember every damn second of it.

He switched to the rowing machine, gripping the handles tightly, and started pulling with quick, powerful strokes. His muscles burned, sweat dripped down his back, but it still wasn’t enough to push her out of his mind.

The problem was, he wanted her again. He wanted to see her, touch her, hear her laugh that low, teasing laugh she had. But this time, he wanted to be fully aware of every single thing he did to her, every little reaction he could coax out of her. He wanted to watch the way her pupils dilated when he touched her, hear the way her breath hitched, see that flash of challenge in her eyes when she bit her lip.

He wanted to remember. All of it.

He needed to see her again, needed to make that happen. But how? It wasn’t like he could just call her up. She was Jace’s sister, for fuck’s sake, and Jace was already poking around, suspicious as hell. No, he’d have to be careful, play it smart. He needed to find a way to get her alone again, away from her brother, away from prying eyes.

The rowing machine beeped, signaling the end of his set, but he barely heard it. His mind was already spinning with possibilities, ideas forming as he wiped the sweat off his face.

Yeah, he’d find a way. There was no way in hell he was letting this go. Y/N Velaryon was under his skin now, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get a chance to do things right this time.

Cregan cracked his neck, a determined smile spreading across his face as he headed toward the free weights. He’d figure it out. And when he did, he was going to make damn sure he remembered every single second of it.

#hotd cregan #cregan fanfiction #cregan x y/n #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #cregan x you #cregan x reader #hotd modern au #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader

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mysadcorner · 2 months ago

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I was wondering if you can write having an angry love confession with Jason Todd??

Jason Todd Angry Love Confession Headcanons

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- Credit to the images owners - Please be specific about characters wanted in headcanons and read the request rules -

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• If there’s one way to make Jason confess anything, it’ll be by getting him into a heated argument. He isn’t good at keeping his emotions in check, and especially concerning you, that when he will spill all of his feelings for you.

• Just confessing to you is going to is going to stress him out once he’s realised what he’s done. He has probably been meaning to keep his feelings from you, he has a tendency to keep people at a distance even if it isn’t quite healthy. Expect him to backtrack on his words if you don’t reassure his feelings straight away, he isn’t welcome to being vulnerable under any circumstances.

• If you were the one to confess to him, then he certainly will be shocked, almost stunned. The argument would immediately be halted, and maybe even forgotten about now that his attention has been changed to focus entirely on what you said about how you feel about him.

• Jason would be very conflicted, but his anger would be completely gone. He’d mostly just be frustrated, either at himself for confessing or at you for not telling him how you felt after such a long time of knowing him. Either way, he isn’t going to be bubbly or cheerful, it’ll bring out a lot of stress especially if you were just previously arguing.

• He isn’t the type of guy to just give in to his feelings straight away or accept them easily. Even after he’s confessed to you, there will be quite a bit of awkwardness from him. He’d like to consider himself a guy that doesn’t care about these kinds of things, but once his emotions get serious it’s hard for him to act openly no matter how much he wants to at first.

• He’ll want to drop the argument entirely if the two of you have any possible chance of working through your feelings together, but the conversation will still be charged with a tense atmosphere, possibly even tiring after the emotional rollercoaster you both went through. He won’t open up entirely to you straight away, and will keep you at a distance in the beginning, but at the same time he’ll try his best to give you a rough gist of what he wants.

• He may snap at you while he’s trying to express himself, simply because he finds it such a difficult task to do without exploding. He isn’t used being able to express himself freely to an unlimited extent, so having you listen to him will come with some unintended anger that slips through.

#dc x reader #dc #dc x you #dc comics headcanons #dc comics #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanons #jason todd #jason todd x you #red hood x you #red hood headcanons #red hood x reader #red hood

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emmaofnormandy · 4 months ago

Text

Imagine Aegon is the father of your children… to whom you are the greatest defender. (Part II)

Warnings: this time we have drama, angst, but fluffy like usual. Maybe some smut. Long post.

@dracaryxzs tagging you once more, hope you like it!

***

• The Last Feast.

You are present at your father’s last dinner. Despite detesting the circumstances, you put an effort at your husband’s request, as much as either of you are uncomfortable with this growing awkwardness—thanks to your father’s preference over Rhaenyra and your mother’s likewise neglect.

Not to mention the Strong bastards who tease your lover endlessly—as well as your younger brother Aemond. You recollect how, when you were ten and two summers, you hit Jacaerys in his face and kicked Lucerys’ belly after their bullying over your family.

“You have no idea whom you are messing with, boys. I may be kind, I may be sweet, but I am as dragon as either of you are. If yet one may say so… considering there’s nothing Valyrian on you.”

Words—and deeds—that earned Aemond’s respect and Aegon’s admiration. Today you wish you had better control of your temper, perhaps being more diplomatic, but you’d still stand up for Aegon nonetheless.

“You look thoughtful today”, you hear Aegon telling you. “I think it’s too early for you to join this bloody dinner. You have been just churched, Y/N.”

You smile, letting memories of a distant past fade when Aegon comes at you, holding you from behind as your ladies have just finished dressing you and brushing your long silver locks.

Today you opt to wear your two-sided braided hair and a long, silk green gown which may reinforce your curves. His hands are precisely there as his eyes stare at your reflection in the mirror of your privy quarters.

About a month and half ago, you gave birth to your fifth child—and you’re already the mother of Aegon, Alysanne, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera—whom you named Baelor after your grandsire. To the surprise of many, you are not only as fertile as your sisters and mother, but just as strong.

Even though ladies are strongly recommended to avoid events after this period of churching—where they go through the process of getting cleansed carnally and spiritually under the Septs of the Seven—you care very little about such rules, specially when your sire father is about to depart this world—something that gives you mixed feelings.

“I am as good as before”, you turn at him with a smile on your lips. “I may look tired but that is because I had to wake early to feed Baelor.”

Aegon chuckles lightly.

“…all the whilst our dearest Jaehaera was found sneaking under our blanket.”

You laugh heartily.

“She seems to take after you, I’m afraid. Are you ready to put some reins in her, Aegon?”

To which your husband scoffs.

“Please. I’m here to protect and spoil my princesses. Yourself included, dear”, and saying so, he presses a kiss on your cheek. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

You spot a glint of mischief behind his eyes; it already makes your intimate parts ache for him. You gently put two fingers over his lips and bite yours when he takes to his mouth, sucking each without parting gazes.

“Mm. Someone’s not been churched enough, I see.”, Aegon teases you, now going to press you against the wall.

“My darling, you best not ruin me for the feast. We are awaited”, you try your best not to give him, but what power do you have when he, taller than you, towers over you and starts to lift the skirt of your gowns…

“Oh there you are!”, you and Aegon almost jump out the moment you hear Helaena’s voice. “Alysanne and I were looking for you!”

Suddenly the seven year old princess with short curly hair and eyes that resemble her parents shows up dressing a gown that is very similar to her aunt’s.

“Papa! Mama! Aunt Laena did my dress, look! I’ve been looking for you in order to show you it!”, she steps up proudly under Helaena’s fond gaze and clapping hands.

You are quickly straightening yourself when Aegon promptly goes to one knee to match his daughter’s height and speak as if nothing was going on before their… sudden arrival.

“You look gorgeous as ever, Alys! Beautiful like your mama!”, he beams at her, before lifting his daughter and holding her tight.

“Weeee!”, Alysanne giggles. “You can still carry me! Look, aunt Laena! Look how strong my papa is!”

Helaena is all smiles at the scene. You join her side, adding a teasing comment:

“It appears your father is still strong, uh? Here I was thinking otherwise.”

Aegon rolls eyes at you, but Alysanne points out her tongue in turn.

“There is none as strong as my papa!”

“That’s my girl!”, he kisses her cheek, spinning her around a little more before downing her at last. “Now, you best go to see your grandsire. Where is Egg? And your twins?”

“Egg has joined Maekar”, she tells him in reference to Helaena and Aemond’s oldest son. “They are insufferable.”

Helaena chuckles lightly.

“Best mates, as they should.”

“As for me… at least I have Rhae to be friends with”, and that being said the princess runs after her cousin, Maekar’s own twin, both born in the same year as Alysanne’s.

“You should be more careful, leaving the door unlocked”, says Helaena, amused.

And she turns before either of you could form a proper answer. You sigh and as you link your arm with Aegon’s, you say:

“She is not wrong, you know.”

“Where can I be faulted if these kids are growing too fast these days”, grumbles Aegon.

You poke his side playfully.

“The joke’s on you for being careless and leaving the door open.”

Aegon chuckles, pressing another kiss on your cheeks before going to the king’s privy quarters where a family reunion is expected.

You are sitting opposite Aemond and Helaena, next to your husband on the left side of the table. You are making sure your children are behaving well at the same time instructing your maids what to do in case they get…bored.

Whilst you do so, Aegon avoids Rhaenyra’s gaze, who sits on the opposite right of the table, with her own offspring. Trying to sweep away the taste of bad blood, he rather focuses in his own children.

The sight of his growing family brings a relief to his wounded pride. For years, longing for something his father and mother lacked in providing, seems to have been filled with your love and these of his children.

When seeing how Egg is looking for him and, once finding his gaze, smiles in search of approval, Aegon forgets his haunted memoirs and gives his boy and heir a positive sign with his thumb up.

It’s how happy Egg is that makes Aegon believe that he’s overcome his broken heart. By how proud his son looks just after being acknowledged by Aegon makes him think that… had only his father done that for years, one small gesture such as this, well… wouldn’t things be different?

Looking now at his daughter, Princess Alysanne. She’s every inch his own and Aegon takes pride in his eldest girl. She is sweet tempered and talkative—oh doesn’t she like to talk? Aegon observes how she and her cousin, Princess Rhaella, engage in some serious conversation which the prince supposes to be about dragons.

He does approve how they are bonding. And when his gaze meets Aemond’s, the eldest of the two realizes this is a better out coming than both of them expected—considering their upbringing. Aemond, of his part, gives a small smirk, considering he is proud too of his children.

And then… there are the twins, of course, and the newly born son who’s not present. Jaehaera and Jaehaerys are not gloomy nor moody, simply the mirror of Aegon’s domestic joy.

This picture of the family he never had that is now his new reality makes him at peace with his parents… even if at times, such as now, he is remembered of everything he didn’t have.

“I would like to make a toast”, says King Viserys, and his voice drags Aegon out of his particular bliss. “My family reunited here. Everyone together as it should, the perfect reflection of how peaceful our realm is.”

All eyes are set on the dying king. The evidence is clear and you cannot help yourself wondering… how all would’ve been different had he acknowledged Aegon’s inheritance. When casting a quick look at your sister Rhaenyra, you realize that she’s never wanted the high prize.

“Mama”, your daughter’s hand pushing your sleeve draws you out of your thoughts.

“What is it, sweetling?”

“Will the dragons die?”

You furrow your eyebrows, ignoring Helaena’s curious gaze at the sight of you two.

“Why would you ask this question?”

Alysanne hesitates, suddenly realizing this may not be the most proper place to speak. But since the music is now playing and the babbling is loud, you encourage her to speak her mind.

“I… I had a nightmare again.”

“With what, my dove? You will claim your dragon, eventually”, you assure her.

“I know I will, but this isn’t it. I am talking about a red dragon being smashed. It looked terrifying to watch.”

Back then, you do not comprehend what red dragon is your daughter speaking of: neither you nor Aegon’s dragons possess red scales. Before you could find a way to assure your daughter this is nothing but a bad dream, a sound takes you out of your thoughts.

“I’d like to make a toast for these… Strong boys.”

Your eyes go wide at Aemond’s bluntness. Helaena is too surprised, and you two share a meaningful, confident look. Both of you take your children out of the dining table, sensing trouble is coming out.

Later, you come back to rush Aegon out of this mess.

“I was handling just well”, he tells you prideful.

Indeed, to your relief he bears no black eye. But by how Rhaenyra looks angry, you know enmity is official.

You hold her stare as you stroke your husband’s face.

“I know. Who could beat you, anyway? You did nothing wrong.”

And by saying that, you kiss his lips, finding home in his embrace.

***

• A Storm Of Iron Blades.

Later that night, there is nothing to occupy your thoughts. With your children asleep and your churching period finally at end, you gladly resume your activities.

And your favorite one is riding your husband, of course.

“Aegon!”, you cry out his name, searching for support against the wall as his hands hold firmly your hips whilst his tongue does wonderfulness in you. “Oh Gods!”

And you move your hips gracefully, smirking at the sight of subduing such a prideful prince, yours to be king.

You arch your back, smirking wide as he slaps your hips, hair now a complete puddle of mess as you come undone.

Your husband drinks every juice you give him, such is his thirst. But domineering he still is as, restless like usual, he flips positions and is now thrusting right into you.

“We are conceiving again”, he whispers against your hot skin, turning you around so your face can be seen. Aegon wraps a hand around your neck all the whilst he pulls your hair the way you like him to.

“One more child?”, you moan loud, burying your nails against his skin as you two move as one.

“I told you we are making this a grand family”, he thrusts harder, pleased to earn a louder moan this time.

Matching his hips with yours, Aegon knows you delegate him control. Every time you come after churching, you settle under him, legs firmly tied around his waist… and when you try to swap, oh snap! He got you there.

“Kiss me!”, you demand him. “Now!”

Aegon gladly complies to your commands, pursuing your lips desperately so. In a crazy demonstration of how your connection works, both of you reach climax at the same time.

As he lies his head at your left breast, Aegon strokes your cheek and says:

“Thank you.”

“What for?”, you ask him surprised.

“For giving me what I was refused: a family.”

You peck his lips, cuddling onto him.

“I love you, Aegon. I hope you know I’d do anything for you. Anything at all.”

As he looks up at him, Aegon knows the veracity of these words. And when he kisses you, the prince fears for them at the same.

Little Egg comes early next morning to get his father’s attention. You realize they are very close, which makes your chest swell with pride. It’s you who welcome your eldest when door opens and you are still breastfeeding baby Baelor, despite Aegon’s protest that you should be doing so in your bed not on your feet.

“Darling! What is it?”, you smile brightly at him.

Despite the nickname, Little Egg is hardly little now. He’s grown quite fast for his age and will most likely to be very tall in his early adulthood. His hair is long now, emulating his father’s.

“I want to see my lord father.”

Thankfully, Aegon has just left his privy quarters when his son’s voice reach him.

“What’s lord for? Father is just fine”, Aegon pulls a grimace at the formality.

Little Egg chuckles.

“My lady grandmother told me I should be mindful of my manners.”

“Who cares about what that old woman says?”, and here he ignores your weak protest at how your mother is addressed. “Come here, won’t you hug me properly?”

As you sit to finish feeding your baby and hold him close, you delight at the scene of Little Egg running to the arms of Aegon, chuckling as he is spinning around before putting down.

“A egg has hatched”, says your brave little boy. “I reclaimed it as mine.”

“Well, of course it’s yours!”, says Aegon, admired. “We put that egg with you since you were born. You slept it tightly with it!”

Little Egg blushes at his remark.

“Well, either way, it’s born! And it’s mine!”

“Fantastic! What’s the name of it?”

“I thought about something to honor your dragon, papa, since it’s golden with details in silver. So I figured to call it Goldenfyre.”

You swear you thought Aegon’d burst into tears. You too think some tears come from your eyes, aware of how important this is to your husband. A moment once stolen in his childhood, but somehow regained to compose his son’s.

“Will you show me Goldenfyre?”, Aegon smiles proudly at his boy.

“Yes”, Little Egg smiles timidly, but you spot pride in his eyes. “And after that I want to show mummy too.”

“Of course my dearest”, you tell him just as delighted.

“I also saved an egg to Baelor”, he tells you proudly when coming at you to earn a motherly kiss you give him.

“That’s my boy. Remember, this is your brother whom you shall always protect.”

Very serious, says your small version of your husband:

“I will not fail in this duty, mother.”

“I know you won’t.”

As you look up, finding Aegon as tearful as you, contentment finds solace in this new home, built over a wrecked one. Perhaps the Gods could be good, after all.

Not everything is about family, however. You need a moment to fly with Dreamfyre again and are about to do so with your youngster one when the Queen comes after you with a grave expression.

“Where is Aegon?”

“Greetings to you too, mother”, you do not mind the disdain in your tongue. “He’s with his son. Something you could have done too if you had the time.”

Alicent looks at her daughter as if she somehow wished you were like Helaena: quieter and serene, even though you are more than aware how your younger sister is also estranged with the Queen. Not that you have been very wayward, you have rarely been at her presence… is all.

Old wounds takes time to heal.

“This is not the moment nor the time to point out my wrongs. I know you will not understand the sacrifices I’ve made for this family, but I need you to summon Aegon.”

“Can you not do this yourself since you have sacrificed so much for us?”

Alicent sighs. At times she finds hard to look at you, and you know that is because you resemble Aegon.

“Your father…”

Now she has your attention. You think wise to give your maid your Baelor.

“Yes?”

What you find in your mother’s eyes knocks your pride down.

“Your father has… departed this world.”

In other words, you know you should be prepared to war. And how strange it is when for the first time in a long while you and the queen find comfort in each other with a hesitant embrace.

Outside, you could hear the lightenings.

***

You are flying Dreamfyre when clouds start to rumble. Your dragon turns her head to give you a look as if she’s sensing your intimate thoughts. Amidst the announce of a storm sun is starting to rise in the horizon and you should go back… but you are reluctant. So she knows where to take you.

To your surprise, though, you find him there. In the very spot where everything began. Has it almost been ten years since you and him professed feelings for each other? It certainly doesn’t feel like it.

“Egg”, you call him affectionately. “I wasn’t expecting to seeing you here.”

Aegon looks distraught, a view that much plagues your heart. You take his side and hold his hand.

“War is coming. She’s not going to accept I am our father’s heir.”

“We can do this”, you tell him firmly. To his surprise, you are determined to go to the end of it. “I know my place, but you must know yours. Father has determined as tradition has that a male heir is to sit upon the iron throne. This happens to be you.”

“I wasn’t prepared for the role”, Aegon admits in one of his rare displays of weakness.

You cup his cheeks with both hands and make him look at you. Aegon finds comfort in you, solace for his insecurities, which you know so well. What’s more is that you never left him.

You stayed.

“Circumstances are better teachers than theories. I can help you with that, though. I am not made of silk or dragon blood”, you flash him a side smirk. “I have a brain sharp as sword.”

“Y/N… I never underestimated you. We…”, and here he whispers. “We both know you’d be a better queen.”

You chuckle quietly, rubbing your nose against his. Rain starts to fall but you both seem immune to it.

“Shush. I know my place, husband. You will be a great king.”

As if convinced by your arguments, Aegon rests his head against your shoulder, and you rock him gently, stroking his silver locks.

“We are doing this for our children.” He tells you firmly, regaining his composure.

Hands intertwined, eyes locked. Mutual communication.

“My Visenya”, Aegon smiles, besotted.

“My Conqueror”, you beam at him.

And all is sealed with a kiss.

The green council is gathering and in the meantime you spend your time with your sister and your children.

“We must be wary”, whispers Helaena to you.

You cast her a knowing look.

“Can we prevent it to happen?”

“I don’t think so. The crown has a price to pay.”

“I shall do it so”, you tell her firmly.

And then the conversation breaks suddenly.

“Mama”, says Alysanne, running to her side. “Will papa get burnt?”

Never before you detested these dreams your daughter and sister share.

“No”, you assure her firmly, giving a side glance at Helaena, who’s holding her own children protectively. “Nothing bad will happen to him. This I vow.”

To the rest of the day, despite not contenting yourself with embroidery, you settle with the role of mother just fine. But as rain gets heavier outside, you know another will come eventually: that of a wife ready to fight for her husband.

Later that evening, as you watch the children playing with their father and you rock young Baelor against your chest, Aegon tells you the plans of his coronation.

Alysanne and Little Egg are almost fighting over who climbs faster in his father’s shoulders and when he turns at them with that smile you love and says:

“Hey. What did I say?”

“One at time”, grumbles Little Egg. “But I am the heir, therefore…”

“Heir you are, but you must not forget your manners, my son. Ladies first, or has chivalry died?”, and here you try to hide away your amusement.

“Fine. You go, sister.”

Alysanne puts out a tongue, but she too earns a reprehension of her father.

“Now, now, this is not the way, Lys.”

“Sorry”, she puts out a face that makes her irresistibly cute. Aegon chuckles and kisses her temple before putting her over his shoulders. “Weee! I’m flying!”

Aegon makes a noise that you suppose to emulate a dragon’s. The whole scene is adorable and gets your children’s attention. Soon he does the same to everyone—but Baelor, who’s asleep.

“Very well. Your father is tired, he’s done for the night. It’s late and you should be put in bed.”

“Papa”, says Jaehaera, putting his sleeve.

“Yes, daughter?”

“Can you tell us a story before we go to bed?”

“Yes!”, Alysanne runs to her sister’s side and the boys too, despite them pretending to lack interest, which amuses you.

“It’s your day, honey”, you tell him in between giggles. “I’m already occupied here.”

Aegon rolls his eyes as if he doesn’t want this arduous task. However, he makes sure to get the four children to put in your bed before getting to such a mission.

First, he gets Alysanne and Little Egg under blankets before putting the twins on his knees. Second… he makes sure to get their attention.

“Now listen up. Do you want to hear a story about a dragon princess who saved her dragon prince?”

“Hear! Hear!”, Little Egg cries out. “Ladies and gentlemen, no bard nor storyteller can match our dad!”

Aegon blushes.

“Why thank you for the praise, son. So I guess this is a yes?”

“Of course! There is romance too so we are all very pleased”, says a very romantic Alysanne.

You watch as your husband is set loose to your children. He likes the attention, but more so… he likes being their father.

If we were peasants, we’d be a merrier family.

Sweeping away these melancholic thoughts that make reference to an inevitable upcoming war, you focus on how happy he looks when the burden of wearing a crown is not smashing over him.

How loved he is when surrounded by these innocent toddlers who want to please him—and Aegon is eager to please them too.

You are teary at the scene. Alysanne is watching attentively as her father tells in his own your love story behind a great deal of creativity and fantasy, which makes you chuckle quietly. Jaehaera and her twin brother are not too far behind. These youngsters who like to make your quarters a mess are unusually quiet, captivated by their father’s voice, eyeing him with the most genuine devotion of a children.

Eventually though as the story comes to an end, they are all snoring.

“Well, my king. Our bed is full”, you laugh quietly as you put asleep Baelor carefully in his cradle.

Aegon smiles, moving to where you are and putting you against his arms.

“Thank you for giving me these beautiful children. I cannot believe I am this blessed.”

“How could it be otherwise? Oh Aegon, I love you.”

You spot some tears forming behind his eyes. He clears his throat, still uncomfortable with his own sentiments. Nevertheless he says:

“And I love you, my preciosity. You are my moon and stars.”

“And you are my sun and universe.”

This evening ends well. And you kiss him in turn.

But even sun sets in paradise. You are outdoors with Helaena, two maids and your children when Aemond comes in.

By the looks on his face nothing good is coming. You prepare for the bad news.

“What is it?”

Aemond cannot look at you, but it’s Helaena, who runs to his encounter, who casts a look at you and says:

“War has found its home. We best be prepared to fight it.”

Like a premonition, heavy rain starts to fall. You touch your hip, feeling that dagger you keep hidden underneath your silk gown.

“Well… Let war come. It will end with fire and blood”, you whisper to yourself before going back inside with the toddlers.

***

• A Dragon for A Dragon: The Cause Must Be Avenged.

You are by your husband’s side when the crown is put atop his head and Aegon raises his sword, applauded under the cheerful voices of “Long May Live King Aegon!”

It’s at you he looks for when his smug smirk curls on his lips. You nod approvingly, pride sparkling in your eyes.

Later that day, when council is opened, you are with the children when your husband summoned you. To a general surprise, Aegon wants his wife to be present at his council.

“My lady Y/N is as competent as my brother, Aemond”, he nods at his one-eyed sibling, who gives you a quick, indecipherable gaze. “That is my decision.”

“It is as it is”, says Otto in a dismissive tone. “We need to ponder what to do to counter Rhaenyra’s actions. She’s not inclined to peace.”

“We ought to do what it takes to preserve my crown”, muses Aegon. “Who are our allies?”

Someone starts to list them. You watch Aegon’s reaction, furrowing his eyebrows as he ponders what to do with the information.

“If I may speak”, says Aemond after some babbling dies. “I suggest we take Harrenhal. It’s my understanding the Blacks are heading its way there.”

“We use our dragons before they do. But if they are armed…”, you muse in almost in an inaudible suggestion.

Aegon shoots you a glance.

“Don’t.”

You sigh heavily, but don’t argue.

“I can go.”

“But we need Vhagar”, says Aegon. “Perhaps we can do without a dragon.”

“That is impossible. We are talking about a war of dragons, Your Grace”, says Otto, somewhat impossible. “We must preserve the dragons until we cannot. There’s no need to be in such a hurry. We will come out with a defense tactic.”

“Who’s the one intending to claim Harrenhal?”, you ask suddenly.

Ser Otto gives you a quizzical look, but it’s Aemond who answers you.

“Our uncle, Daemon Targaryen.”

“He’s the right hand of Rhaenyra”, you think out loud, not minding to call her a sister when Helaena does this role a lot better. “What about the other’s?”

“You are not considering getting into this fight, are you?”, to your surprise its Queen Alicent who voices out a general preoccupation.

“Visenya did so, my mother. Whilst I perform my duties accordingly, I shall stand for my husband’s right to wear his crown”, you flash him a smile and are pleased to see him regaining confidence.

“Your loyalty is touching, dear”, says Otto genuinely caring, for you and Helaena are his favourite grandchildren. “However, what military expertise do you have?”

“I am a great dragon rider and I could use this well”, you don’t find prudent to share that you’ve been taking sword lessons for a while. And by the looks Aegon gives you, you know he knows. “I could beat Baela, though.”

“This isn’t about vengeance. It’s about war.”

“War is founded upon vengeance, grandsire”, you speak gently. “Let it be said. A dragon for a dragon, my Aegon shall be avenged.”

That said you recline back to your chair, pleased to leave everyone in the room astonished with this side of yours few—except Aegon, Aemond and Helaena— are familiar with.

“You must stay for the children”, says Aegon. He’s walking from one side to the other, in evident display of nervousness.

It’s just the two of you in the council room this afternoon.

“I cannot handle the possibility of…”

He leaves his fears unspoken and it’s when you walk to where he is and holds his face with your hands.

“We are in this together, whether you like it or not. Your birth right will not be stolen from you. As our children’s…”, you smile at him, fondly. “We will wage this war, but with no need to be cruel.”

Aegon rests his forehead against yours, nodding in an agreement. It’s when he pursuits your lips and you let him lead the way. Suddenly, the kiss evolves and you are gladly lying against the table as he moves over you.

Every issue is kept drowned when the needs of flesh overcomes each. Aegon needs you as much as he needs you. Here comes that boy, starving for affection, that you know.

You gasp as his callous hands run over your thighs, lifting the skirts of your gown as his lips brush against your neck, biting your neck, leaving traces of bruises.

“Aegon”, you moan out his name in response of his eager fingers digging to your core. “Oh Gods!”

His eyes look for yours and when finding yours, your hands hold his hair, pulling him over you.

“My husband”, you gasp, moving your hips against his skillful hands, and soon you take your seat at the edge of the table.

“No”, he groans against your ear when perceiving your intentions. “Just sing out to me…”

But you answer to none—despite gladly obeying him in all when it’s due—so you smirk rebelliously when your hand finds the path to his pants.

“Come here… Let’s do it together”, and you whisper in his ear. “Remember when you taught me?”

Aegon closes his eyes, already unbearably aroused by your words. You bite his earlobe, moaning softly as you speak unspeakable things, caressing his manhood until it pumps against your palm.

“Fuck”, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed. “Fuck, Y/Nickname…”

“Yes, baby. Together. We are always together…”

And when he rises his eyes and bites your bottom lip… well, he replaces his hand with something else and it takes little time until you reach climax.

Together.

As it has always been.

“I love you”, you mumble in his ear.

“I love you”, he whispers back.

***

“A king cannot be so until he leads his soldiers”, says Aegon before the council.

To a general astonishment, this is Aegon announcing his preparations to war.

“A king delegates others of his trust for a good reason, Aegon”, your mother snaps at him. “Do not play the reckless…”

“I think it’s funny”, you muse out loud, attracting the council’s gaze—with particular notice to a smirking Aegon, aware of how subtle your temper works, and for which he’s grateful. “How so many of you planned to make the transition to this new reign in a peaceful form, and yet when it is more than clear that war is inevitable… you stop the king to do what’s must. War should have been prevented many moons ago, but this is not the time to live based on “what ifs”. If diplomacy is not the answer…”

You stand, and you swear you detect an approval smirk from Aemond himself.

“…then fire is.”

“May I suggest a fare point that could be turned to our advantage?”, and here Aemond speaks in turn.

“Well, it appears I speak to deaf ears”, grumbles Otto Hightower.

“Listen to Aemond, grandsire. We are not as impulsive as you judge”, you speak softly.

After a moment of silence, the Hand of the king reluctantly lets Aemond speak, of which your brother is thankful for. And you take your seat next to your mother.

What happens next, however, will test the stability of your husband’s cause.

“Baela has been spotted flying near Storm’s End”, you are glancing through the window when you hear Aemond’s whispering to his brother. “She’s sent there in order to bring Baratheons to Rhaenyra’s side.”

“And what do we know about their position?”, inquires Aegon.

As the two men speak, your eyes concentrate at what happens at the yard. Unaware of a grave event that is to mark their father’s reign, Little Egg and Alysanne are playing with Maekar and Rhaella in complete synchrony. You feel a fang of guilt for not spending time with them, but you convince yourself this will pass. After all, you cannot neglect the role of wife. When you told Aegon you’d do anything for him, you meant every word.

“Y/N”, Aegon comes at you, hands resting over your waist. He knows what afflicts you. “When I told you to stay, I’ve meant it.”

He turns you at him, sensing your tears as if he senses his own. You cannot repress all this stress that you’ve been going through. You simply… cannot. And he’s there to hold you, to pick your pieces up.

“You don’t have to be strong the entire time”, he whispers to you, cupping your cheeks and fighting away your fears. “Look at me. I demand it as your king.”

You chuckle lightly, but when you raise your gaze, you know you are the one exposed for the very first time. And Aegon appreciates it.

“This is often the reversed role, is it not? It’s usually me asking for comfort and not the other way around”, and here he wipes the tears off your eyes. “Your unending loyalty to me, regardless of my vices and countless flaws, is a very endearing gift. We have fragilities and they do not make us weak. It makes us… humans, I think. Not a word I think of often, but here’s a brilliant learning you’ve taught me.”

And he proceeds:

“I honestly did not wish our family ripped apart like that, more than aware knowing how a war between kin displeases the deities. But what else can I do? This is not about us, but about our children’s future. I want our five, and hopefully six, toddlers to grow strong and with a prospective future”, he smiles when he manages to get something out of your sadness. “I lament it mostly deep that I’ve brought such misfortune to our family. I wish it was otherwise, that you were proud of me…”

“I am proud of you”, you cut him. “Aegon, I could not look elsewhere and choose someone else to be espoused to. As much as I get along with Aemond, this isn’t the man I love. Who did I come up to this world with? You, Aegon Targaryen. I weep because I want to give you the peace you deserved. I witnessed all these wounds and…”

Aegon swallows his own tears, knowing today you are the one who needs comforts. He comes to realize that, being this stronghold for so long, you too had your own wounds, your own pieces to get.

Oh my darling, Y/N. We are their creatures, are we not?

“You are my sun and stars”, he mumbles. “You don’t have to go through this by yourself, Y/N. We are healing together, won’t we? This is us against the world, my lovely wife.”

Lifting your chin, he presses a soft kiss over your eyes and says:

“You gave me everything I was refused in these years. You gave me love when I had none, you restored me trust when I lacked in; you granted me happiness when I was unworthy it. You make my days a lot better.”

A pause comes where a comfortable silence hangs in between. You rest your forehead against his, breathing in his silence.

“If we came to this world together…”, you whisper secretively.

“…then it is only natural that we leave it together”, Aegon vows it with a smile on his lips.

The decision is done and the pact is made.

***

You see Aegon flying high with Sunfyre and a bad feeling consumes you. Aemond is there too, so he’s going to Vhagar when you stop him.

“Nay”, you tell him firmly. “Leave this to me.”

You are not wearing your court garments, but prepared to go to war. Underneath green and silk, with some adjustments, you are dressing hauberk with two sharp blades carefully guarded. Your long silver hair is tied in a perfectly braid.

“Today we don’t spot Alyssa”, says Otto, concerned about your bold attitude, narrowing his eyes as you mount Dreamfyre and fly high. “But Visenya Targaryen has come to us.”

A remark that would later echo through generations of poets.

What you and Aegon agreed was to inspire soldiers in order to go to local Y/C and there make it a stronghold to his cause. However, spies delivered news that Baela Targaryen is preparing to wage war… with her grandmother, Rhaenys.

Yet, who’s coming is Rhaenys’s red dragon, Meleys. Suddenly you are remembered of your daughter’s dreams and her fear in losing her father.

In order to try to prevent agony making a nest in your heart, in barely gritted teeth you command Dreamfyre to fly above skies—as high as possible without, however, missing Aegon’s position. After that, you promised yourself to fly to Baela’s encounter: there is an unknown bad blood that you find urgent to resolve at last.

In the meantime, though, this isn’t about you, but your king, your lover, your brother, father of your children. This isn’t about a crown, but the legacy of your family—misadjusted they may be, but it’s still the one you are part of.

Grey clouds begin to assemble, but Dreamfyre flies as if it’s in her natural environment. She knows your thoughts and sentiments, she’s prepared to fight even if for a while she hasn’t been part of any of the kind.

But she can fiery.

“Baby girl, be careful. Meleys can be…”

Your words die in your throat when you see fire coming from the old red dragon. Suddenly, Dreamfyre takes a deep dive and gives such a strong bite against Meleys, getting her off guard. Part of the flames may get to you, and you think you hear Aegon screaming your name—you’re fueled with adrenaline, and you cannot stop.

All you know is that, moved by your sentiments, Dreamfyre does drag Meleys down. And it only comes to an end when both rider and creature fall down.

An explosion is heard and felt. You are flying high, Dreamfyre’s sound coming as if echoing your silent mixed feelings. Now adrenaline comes to pass, you realize part of your arm is burnt—and it hurts like hell.

“Are you well, D?”, you ask your dragon, more concerned about her than to your own wounds, in spite of the unspeakable pain.

As if to nod that she is doing perfectly well, Dreamfyre turns her head. It’s when Aegon comes at you.

“My wife!”, and when you turn at him you spot concern in his eyes.

“I told you”, and suddenly weakness comes to shake your senses. “I’d do anything… anything… for…”

And why do words die in your mouth and everything is dark? You have no idea, but you swear that you hear Aegon yelling as your eyes close.

***

• The Aftermath.

In a twist of events, Aegon II refuses to leave your bed until you open your eyes. Nothing can take his mind off you, therefore all matters are placed for now in the hands of Otto Hightower.

Your children have momentarily been put under the care of their aunt Helaena, for so distressed is the king that he cannot fail his children now.

But gods be good and you recover your strength. To your surprise, Aegon is next to your side.

“How… What…”

“My beloved wife”, Aegon smiles warmly when seeing you well and safe, mostly important: alive. “My greatest defensor. Imprudent and reckless, but possessor of the sweetest heart I know.”

He kisses you carefully, as if he’s afraid of losing you.

“What happened? Did we win? How’s Dreamfyre?”

“Calm yourself, love. Rest”, says your husband in most affectionate tone, though firm. “Dreamfyre suffered little damaged in comparison to your broken and burnt right arm and neck. Good grief, woman. It was supposed to be me.”

“No”, you breathe out of relief. “Not you. Never.”

Carefully you lean to his side, not minding the slight pain given just by a slight move. You caress his face, seeing his concern, the fear of losing you… that you risked your life for him, something none has ever done for him…

“I love you”, he whispers like the needy boy he is. “Don’t leave me, Y/N.”

“I love you too, my king”, you brush your lips against his, fingers intertwining together. “We promised to leave this world the same we walked in here, didn’t we?”

Aegon half smiles at you.

Even though the battle is won, the war hasn’t ended yet.

With you regaining your strength, domestic life—where the king’s and yours are concerned—goes back to what it was before your accident.

“Papa, is mama well?”, Jaehaera asks him, eyes tearful.

She’s clinging onto him as he rocks her in his arm. This afternoon you are resting and he’s decided that he needs a break of governing for a moment as well.

Under his watchful gaze, Alysanne is working in her embroidery and Jaehaerys is playing toys with his eldest brother.

“She is resting, my love. But I assure you”, and here he pauses to kiss his daughter’s cheek, earning him a beam that breaks his inner walls, “that she is well. Your mama is as dragon as you.”

“I am a dragon because of her”, Jaehaera corrects him, which makes Aegon chuckle.

Oh aren’t you adorable? How could I father such a pure child? And how… how else does she love me so?

In order to avoid the depth of such thoughts, Aegon limits himself in kissing his daughter’s forehead. Then he drives his fatherly gaze to his offspring.

“What are you seeing there, Alys? Let me see.”

Alysanne is blushing before her father’s attention. Very pompously, she takes her embroidery work so he can take a look.

“Aunt Helaena has taught me how to use the needle properly. I was struggling with the smaller ones”, she admits somewhat shyly so. “So here’s a green dragon. I want to mark in my gown your coat of arms, papa.”

Aegon swallows before the sight of his daughter, whose eyes show an eagerness to please him—a feeling he knows so well, but unlike Alysanne’s case, he was never corresponded. Precisely why the king beams and says:

“I am very proud of your skills, Alys. I am unworthy of such an honor”, says he with a wide smile.

In this sacred moment with his daughters so close, Aegon doesn’t see you come by. You are leaning against the wall, pleased to find your family in complete harmony.

Your boys, getting along… Jaehaerys trying to impress a very serious Little Aegon in his building, earning an eventual smile of his older brother’s approval. All the whilst Jaehaera sleeps in her father’s lap and Jaehaera is blushing pleasantly at the praises she receives him.

It makes you think of your own scars. How many times you tried to please your father and all you got was dismissive waves, distant conversations and comparisons to Rhaenyra?

Containing a sigh, you know how all of this is nothing to what you have now, but it’s pointless to deny these scars. They make you who you are, as it’s Aegon’s case.

Both of you are everything your parents were not. When Aegon looks at you with a smile on his lips, you smile too because you know you succeeded at it.

Despite the gleeful scenarios, war is still going. You are barely recovered when there are news of Baela flying to take y/c, a very important spot for the cause she defends.

You are listening to the Green Council’s strategies when you find Aemond and Aegon’s gaze on you. You lower yourself, but you know why they are concerned about you.

When defending Aemond so many moons ago, it was Baela who hit you hard. Even though you managed to knock her down, your fury was such that left the boys open mouthed by then.

A grudge that you were never able to overcome. A wound that time didn’t heal.

But the opportunity comes just fine.

“I can patrol skies”, you announce casually.

“I forbid you, Y/N”, Aegon is the first to protest. “There is no need to…”

“Y/C stays close to King’s Landing”, you muse, trying to remain calm.

“She’s not daring to come nearby when Vhagar is here”, interferes Aemond.

Both of you exchange looks. You bite down your lips, saying no more. However… opportunity to fight for your husband is coming once more, and yet at what cost?

Days go by when it’s decided that Aemond shall take Harrenhal on behalf of the Crown. This comes after Rhaenyra suffers another blow: her son Jacaerys was defeated once for all in an encounter against Aegon himself.

“I’m proud of you”, you smile the brightest as you two parade at the capital. “A great victor, that you are!”

Aegon flushes at your compliments. This day you and him ride splendid horses before all, richly dressed in order to reinforce signs that the civil war is coming to an end.

“As I am”, he takes your hand to his lips, not minding the courtly rules where public display of affection is concerned. “My greatest defensor. I am nothing without you, Y/N.”

Despite taking pride in this acknowledgment, you play the humble.

“My king, this is untrue. I only do what I am asked of: to daily submit my will to yours, to provide you heirs, to pledge for the safety of our subjects during this rebellion”, you smile at him for, despite the embellishment of your words, you speak such with your heart.

“My queen, blessed by the divine with the utmost caring for this one who gives you word; your unending loyalty and wisdom beyond your years played a great part in the conduct of the affairs of this realm. Whether I wage wars, whether I bring peace to our subjects it is in you and in the beautiful children you provided me that I think of.”

In silence, when he squeezes your hand and nods at you, you know what he means. And as you smile timidly and play the humble queen, he knows what you speak too.

In your own ways, underneath this public exhibition, one tells the other:

I love you.

‘Tis enough to make the people rejoice and praise for the health of King Aegon the Wise and Good Queen Y/N of House Targaryen.

***

• Epilogue.

War had its costs. But it eventually came to an end. Upon its twilight, revenge bled two broken houses of one dynasty for the last time. Aegon met his sister, Rhaenyra, just after you defeated Baela at the Battle of Stormlands, which would later be sang by bards how ‘two damsels, misled by the ambitions of men, took their dragons to a deadly feast and thus they danced’ until ‘the lady Baena was stabbed in the heart by a very bold move of Queen Y/N’.

Some of superstitious folks believed to have seen in you the ghost of Queen Visenya.

You brought a victory to your cause, but got yourself a broken arm. Dreamfyre was hurt too, but not injured enough to impede her to fly with you over the lands of the Baratheons, who welcomed you.

In the meantime this happened, Daemon Targaryen was defeated and Aemond conquered it all. Daemon’s lover, the witch queen of the place, Alys Rivers, attempted to transfer her affections to his nephew—unsuccessfully so. It was rumored that he said the following words:

“Mine heart knoweth no lady that is not mine damsel, Helaena.”

What was her destiny after these words were professed? The chroniclers could not tell. She vanished and many attributed to Lord Aemond her death.

Whatever the truth, Lady Helaena and her offspring moved with Silverwing to meet her husband, ignoring his orders that she should not do so until he sent for her. Apparently she knew what the outcome was going to be.

As for the battle between Rhaenyra and her brother for the throne, Rhaenyra was defeated. However, it was you who interfered on behalf of the kingdom to impede her death.

An agreement was arranged: Rhaenyra, albeit reluctantly, renounced her rights to the throne and agreed to wed her sons to you and Aegon’s daughters, as well as to wed her daughters to your sons. Peace was finally sealed and she was left to live in Dragonstone.

Once reunited, in the present day this feud is now a page in history. You are enjoying better days, ruling behind the scenes as Aegon conducts the realm with a wit that surprised most.

“He is a good king”, you tell your mother in a day where, to a general surprise, Aegon brokered a peace treaty with the Dornish. “Why it surprises you goes beyond my comprehension.”

Today you are dressing a long green, silk gown with reinforces your curves; your silver locks are carefully braided under a hair net that reminds Alicent of the days the dowager queen used to wear it herself. Besides the ravishing look, you wear the jewels Aegon recently gifted you: a pair of emerald earrings and a gold necklace.

“He was hardly the most devoted to studies, is all”, so your mother tells you.

It is a curious contrast how, after many years, you and her found a way to overcome parental issues. But even now, you find difficult to accept some of the critics she at times weaves to her eldest boy.

“Please, it was only lack of proper encouragement”, you roll your eyes as a response.

“I see I cannot make a comment about my son when I’m with you. Let us change topics”, and here she smiles. “I heard you are carrying another child.”

“Well, what can I say? Aegon makes it difficult not to engage in marital affairs”, you giggle maliciously.

Upon which Queen Alicent scoffs, feigning offense.

“To hear these words from the Good Queen Y/N?!”

“Why, I am not complaining. Pretty much otherwise.”

In between chuckles, you move to the gardens where the dowager queen finds all her grandchildren playing together.

Aemond, recently acknowledged as Hand of the King, is talking to Aegon, probably something about the affairs of the realm—judging by their serious countenance. But the one eyed prince is also attentive to his wife, Helaena, who’s teaching the now ten year old Alysanne to improve the girl’s skills, joined by their daughter Rhaella, same age as her cousin. As well as how Maekar and Little Egg—as Aegon’s heir will be always known—are talking nonsenses of their age.

The little ones are not too far behind. Aegon is holding three year old Baelor as he talks to his brother, but is in a position where he can watch over the young toddlers. It does not go unnoticed by all how Jaehaera tries to be friends with another Aegon, Rhaenyra’s son, who was sent with Viserys to be educated at court. Aegon doesn’t look very pleased, but young Viserys is too busy playing with cousins Jaehaerys and Aerys.

When seeing you with their mother coming at the happy meeting, Aegon soon excuses himself to greet you.

“My mother”, he pays the due respects to Queen Alicent, and then doing the same to you. “My lovely wife.”

“Aegon my darling”, and here you pick the chubby baby out of his arms. “Baelor, did you miss mama? Or were you too spoiled by daddy?”

Aegon gives you a smug grin.

“Well, isn’t this why I’m their father in the first place?”

“Not to overindulge, my love.” But not even you believe in what you are saying.

Soon, Helaena and Aemond join the three of you.

“Together at last”, and not to a general surprise Helaena greets you with a warm smile and her own way in showing her affection to you.

“Greetings to you too, my dearest. I was having a moment with our mother. She has some news to share”, you flash the dowager queen a mischievous smirk, pleased to find her blushing.

“Oh…”

“Shh, don’t ruin the surprise.”

To which Aemond confides a whisper to Aegon:

“As if it’s a surprise to know what she’s yet to tell.”

“It did take more years than we’ve judged”, the elder of the two agrees, struggling to muffle a chuckle.

“Well, I was worried… due to the recent events that concerned us all, that…” the Queen doesn’t really know how to put it.

But Helaena makes it easy for all of you.

“If you are happy, then we are happy for you.”

“You deserve it, mother”, you echo your sister’s support.

“But I…”

“Do not protest. We’ve always seen Ser Criston as the father we didn’t have”, says Aegon.

“He did indeed raise us, though”, so Aemond points the obvious.

“I appreciate your support. Then I think we should invite Ser Criston to join us.”

“Later, perhaps”, says Aegon, mirroring that old mischievous spirit that characterized his youth. “I need a moment with my wife and my children if you excuse me.”

“Oh yes, the family man”, teases Aemond discreetly before getting a punch in his arm.

This afternoon, all parts well and in restored peace as it should have been the way it started long time ago.

***

Aegon has just flew with Sunfyre and Little Egg with his own dragon. It’s a good time to do so and represents a unique moment between father and son.

When looking at this growing boy, who’s about to rise to Prince of Dragonstone in due time, Aegon struggles to see he’s no longer that toddler easily impressed with Sunfyre and his first time flying high.

“You are looking at me in a funny way”, says his son as they land and go back to their quarters. “Do you have news to share? Or is it the way I conduct…?”

“No, no. Not at all”, and here he pulls Egg under his arm, ruffling his hair and pleased to get him some chuckles. “I was just noticing that you are growing to a fine man and I am not ready to let that go yet.”

“You sound like mom”, and so typically he pulls a grimace.

“Your mother loves you as much as I do. One day you’ll have children of your own and you’ll see what I mean. As for news, did I tell you that your grandmother secretly remarried and believed no one would suspect she did so?”

The fourteen year old boy laughed loud. A sound that somehow is almost equal to his. Aemond smiles.

“No! I cannot believe my ears! Was she espoused by Ser Criston? But that man…”

“Shush. He’s your grandsire now.”

But the idea brings the two to joint laughters.

Aegon is all smiles when he’s with his girls too. After spending a while hearing Jaehaerys’s proudly progress in his studies, a deed that does impress him, he’s doting on his princesses too. You are already pompously dressed for the dinner when you find your husband hearing Jaehaera’s recent claimant in her dragon which she named Moonfyre because of the curious mix of silver and red scales.

A deed that did impress her elder sister and father.

“I know we have a great bond”, says the seven year old excitedly. “But…”

“But you are likely the youngest of our dynasty to have ridden a dragon! And all by yourself!”, and here Aegon cannot help himself and fuss over Jaehaera, who blushes pleasantly. “My little girl is getting me some headache in the future, I can already foresee it!”

“Well, she has so much of her father to be blamed on it”, you smile at him.

What a scene. Aegon joins you, not the king circumstances made him, but the grown man you loved since you could remember. When he tangles you in his arms and doesn’t mind being affective to you—“uuuuuugh” would tease the boys and even Jaehaera makes a grimace—, you know those wounds took time to heal.

Love prevailed over all.

As you’ve always believed it.

King Aegon II and his Good Queen Y/N of House Targaryen were found dead in an embrace that would be turned into marble. Theirs is one of the longest reign, despite the early years of civil war.

Aegon II is succeeded to his eldest son, Aegon III, married to Rhaena Targaryen, daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. Aegon’s Hand was his long time loyal cousin, Maekar, who wedded his sister Rhaella.

No more turmoils to be seen… for a long while. Dragons did die, as foreseen by Alysanne, who became Princess of Dorne in due time, but they also survived and prospered.

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cxrrodedcoffin · 4 months ago

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Spencer and reader are both BAU agents in a secret relationship and a charity gala has reader tired of hiding.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Trying something different with the first person perspective here! bc of that I did have to use y/n twice so sorry for that lol. This is later seasons but pre-prison Spencer, so he’s a little more sure of himself and in return more dominant without being fully there. I promise I’m working on a few sub!spencer fics right now but I stumbled across this old fic of mine while going through my past works and I was dying to rework it because I wasn’t happy with what it was before lol.

TW: jealousy, angst, kissing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, afab reader, use of “girl” in reference to reader.

Rating: R, 18+ only please!

—��

We’d already been here for three hours and I was growing weary watching Spencer make awkward conversation with every person at this charity gala. There were hundreds of people neither of us knew in this room, but bureaucratic duty required the both of us to make small talk with everyone no matter the department. Heaven knows Spencer didn’t have any intention beyond professional with these people, and I certainly didn’t either as it came with the territory of being BAU agents, but somehow I couldn’t help but find the jealous side of me rearing its ugly head with every attractive colleague that looked his way.

I’d kept my distance, allowing him the space he needed to not seem too attached. I knew how important it was that everyone assumed we were both single, interpersonal relationships between agents aren’t exactly looked highly upon here. Still, watching him talk the ear off of another woman had that familiar blossom of insecurity blooming in my chest. No matter how clueless he was, I knew just how many women and men in our professional vicinity would risk a lot to be with Spencer, and they figured that maybe given the right set of circumstances, perhaps they’d have the opportunity. He never gave them that privilege of course, even though we weren’t public with our relationship, we knew what we were, and he never betrayed that trust.

Still, as he was approached by a particularly tall, gorgeous redhead I found myself growing more and more jealous. He said something and she laughed a little too hard, laying her right hand on his bicep and tossing her hair over her shoulder with the other, and the green eyed monster returned, fiercer than ever. A tear slipped down my cheek as I watched, but I quickly wiped it away, fighting to keep my composure.

When he finally broke away from her, I made my way through the sea of elegantly dressed attendees, whispering his name to catch his attention. He turned to me, features softening as he registered my features.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, concern lacing his tone.

“I’m not feeling well, I’m going to head home.” I told him, forcing a reassuring smile so as not to worry him.

“Would you like me to come with?” He whispered, brushing his hand against my arm, just as the redhead had done to him. Such a simple, loving gesture, and the thought of someone who was not me doing it to him made my blood boil. I shook my head, giving him one last look of reassurance before gathering the top of the skirt of my overly detailed gown in my hands and making my way out of the ballroom and ordering an uber.

When I got back to his apartment, I kicked my heels off haphazardly the second the door locked behind me before stumbling to his bedroom. I don’t know why I’d come back to his apartment, I should’ve gone to mine, but I didn’t want to. I was sick of the hiding, the secrecy. I wanted him. I wanted to live with him. I wanted to be with him.

I reached around to the zipper on the back of my dress, roughly pulling it down halfway before it got caught, the expensive fabric bunching under the hardware. I pulled as hard as I could, desperate to get out of the increasingly suffocating garment, but my attempts seemed in vain as the zipper stayed put.

All the emotions I’d been holding in throughout the night boiled to the surface, showing themselves in the form of hot, frustrated tears. I collapsed face first onto the bed, letting the plush bedding consume me as I folded my arms beneath my cheek, feeling the wetness gather against my skin. I let it all out, quiet sobs wracking my body as I groveled in my jealousy, the physical pain of the restrictive fabric only doubling my emotions.

I didn’t know how long I’d been laying there, but his hand on my shoulder broke me out of the jealousy fueled haze I’d been locked in.

“Y/n? Why didn’t you go home? What’s wrong?” His voice sounded fuzzy as I quickly stood to face him, wiping away my tears.

“I don’t want to go back there Spencer, I want here to be home. I’m not home if I’m not with you. I’m so sick of hiding. I want to be yours.” I blurted, too overwhelmed to think about what I was confessing.

“You are mine.” He whispered.

“I don’t believe you.” I responded.

“There’s no one else y/n, you know that.” He continued, but it did little to calm me.

“All those women at the gala, touching you, flirting with you. I don’t want to have to sit back and watch it anymore. I die a little every time I see it.”

“Y/n, you know I don’t-“

“I know! You don’t enjoy any of it, I get that, but they do! They want you, Spencer, and I can’t bare the thought of losing you to one of them.” I confessed, tears welling in my eyes again.

“That won’t happen.” He said, a kind of sureness in his tone.

“How do I know that?” I asked.

“Because you’re the only one I want. You’re the only one that understands me for who I really am. I don’t care about them, not the way I care about you. I’ve never cared about anyone as much as I care about you.”

“I love you, y/n.” It rolled off his tongue as if they were the truest words he’d ever spoken, and as he placed his hands on my hips I practically melted under his touch.

“I love you too.” I breathed, looking up at him doe-eyed, lip quivering as I held back the tears of contentment fighting to escape my waterline.

“I’m yours.” He whispered, pulling me into him before crashing his lips to mine. I turned to putty in his hands, hanging on his every touch as he pulled away and spun me around, large hand resting on my exposed shoulder as the other worked carefully to untangle my zipper, finally allowing the fabric of the gown to fall from my frame.

His lips met my neck, sucking hungrily against my blushed skin and I brought my hand to rest in his brunette curls, holding him steadily against me. He pressed his hips flush against my lower back, his member growing hard as he marked my neck, drawing his swollen lips over the purple patches forming across the sensitive skin of my neck.

I whimpered as he nipped at my pulse point, nimble fingers undoing my bra before letting it join my gown on the floor, immediately cradling my breasts in his soft grip. I rolled my hips back against him, earning a deep groan as my free hand moved to palm him through his fitted slacks.

“Let me prove how devoted I am to you.” He breathed, spinning me back around before laying me slowly onto the bed. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching as he removed his suit jacket, then undid the buttons of his dress shirt one by one, maintaining eye contact as he undid his belt and dropped his pants and underwear, leaving him bare for me to take in.

He knelt at the edge of the bed, taking my ankles in his grip before parting my legs, placing a soft kiss to the small dip on the inside of my ankle. He looked up at me, his gaze never leaving my face as I watched him plant wet kiss after wet kiss up the expanse of my leg before repeating the action on the other, the intimate act arousing me more and more by the second.

When he finally reached my left upper thigh, he lingered, drawing his tongue over the apex of my thigh to my panties, licking a flat stripe over the soaked panel of fabric, drawing a panting moan from my throat. He locked eyes with me, placing a kiss over my clit before taking the waistband between his teeth and letting it slap back against my hip, earning a whimper from me.

He gripped either side of my hips, taking my underwear in hand before pulling them slowly down my legs and discarding them across the room.

I watched transfixed as he kissed his way up my body, leaving soft magenta marks blooming like peonies over my damp skin, paying special attention to my breasts.

“You’re perfect.” He mumbled, tongue tracing around my nipple as I blushed at his words.

“I want to devour every inch of you.” He continued, taking the stiff peak gently between his teeth and tugging, sending a delicious mix of pain and pleasure to every nerve ending in my chest.

“Then do it.” I gasped, relaxing back into the bed. He hummed against me, flicking his tongue over my breast as his other hand slid between my thighs, cupping my cunt. He dipped his index finger to part my folds, already swollen and sticky and dripping with need. I wanted him, and although this certainly was not the first time we’d had sex, I was finally going to have him, all of him.

“So wet…” He trailed off, dragging his mouth up the expanse of my neck before drawing me into a kiss, deep and warm and full of a fire I’d never felt from him before. It’s like his confession had set something free in him, torn down a wall or two, uncaged the animal of desire within him.

“All for you.” I whimpered, pulling him down into another kiss.

He pressed two fingers in slow, pressured circles against my swollen clit, his full lips swallowing every last one of my needy moans and whimpers. Any other night I would’ve reveled in it, secretly loved the slow burn of his teasing, but I was far too emotional for that tonight, and I couldn’t put up with not having him inside of me anymore.

“I need you.” I whined, rutting my hips up into him.

“What do you want me to do, my love?” He asked. I huffed, knowing the game he was playing.

“Please Spence, I need you inside of me. Fuck me, show me what I mean to you.” I practically moaned as he continued rubbing harsh circles against my clit.

“That’s my girl, always so eager.” He praised, snaking his hands around the back of my thighs and lifting to wrap my legs around his hips.

He rubbed himself slowly through my folds, properly coating his cock with my slick before aligning the head at my slit, ready and inviting him in. He pushed slowly into me, a low groan slipping from his clenched jaw as he savored every inch of my wet heat and I met him with a tight embrace, gasping at the way he filled me.

I’d never felt so connected before, like I could feel him in every fiber of my being and as he was seated fully inside of me I felt whole, like we were made for each other.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss before he pulled almost completely out, pausing before pushing back in, my wetness making it almost embarrassingly easy. He angled his hips upward, knowing how quickly I’d crumble beneath him with the repeated brush of his cock against that soft spot inside of me.

He looked down at me, a certain warmth spreading over his dilated pupils as he halted his hips and opened his kiss-swollen lips to speak.

“It’s only you. Forever.” He purred, pushing the stray hair from my face before kissing my temple and pistoning his hips forward, punctuating his words with a deep thrust.

Each roll of his hips against mine had my muscles contracting, pulling him closer in every way, never wanting this to end. His rhythm remained steady as he picked up his pace, driving the pressure building inside of me ever closer to bursting.

I snaked one of my hands into his hair, gripping tight as the other found his bicep, matching my grip. I needed to hold him, to feel him, to know that having him here like this wasn’t all a dream. His groans and pants filled the thickening air, like a melody in my ear, mingling with my own and the almost feral “mine” that ripped from his throat on a particularly hard thrust had me crying out for him, clawing at his arm as he repeated the intensity.

I was close, so close and as I felt his cock twitch inside of me I knew he was too. I locked my ankles around his hips, holding him inside of me as he rolled his hips quickly, head dropping onto my shoulder. The continued stimulation of that spot, the sweet spot inside of me only he could hit became too much, bringing stars to my eyes as I cried out his name, euphoria so strong I couldn’t feel my legs as I dug my nails so hard into his arm that I had surely drawn blood.

“I’m yours.” He groaned, hips faltering as he filled me, my cunt still pulsing around him with every spurt of warm cum.

Everything after that was a blur of being held in his arms, whispered I love you’s, and gentle caresses.

“We’ll go to HR as soon as possible, I don’t care what paperwork they want us to fill out or how much shit we’ll get from Morgan, I want everyone at that gala tonight to know that I love you.” He broke the silence, his words a final cementing comfort.

No more hiding, no more sneaking around, no more secrets. Only the two of us.

——

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 1 year ago

Note

Bro how would they react if they found out u got pregnant? Cuz yk their pirates and stuff so what would they do? U can do whoever but ik i want shanks, zoro, and mihawk you can do other people or not do the ones or dont do this at all👍 i want i jus want you to be comfortable writing this if you want to write it at all😭

I enjoyed writing this SO MUCH, thank you for the request!!

I just did Zoro, Shanks, and Mihawk for now. May end up doing one for Sanji and Buggy as well if anyone wants, but since I ended up writing these as little short stories instead of headcanons, I just decided to focus on those three this time.

Shanks is already such a dad honestly I lub him <3

So here we gooooo

Whoops

OPLA! Zoro, Shanks, Mihawk x AFAB!Reader

SFW, so fluffy I'm suffocating

Wordcount: 4.6k

No warnings, I think?

Zoro

It took you some time to dredge up the nerve to tell him. It was just a one night stand, after all. A lot of alcohol involved, nothing special. Sure, maybe you’d had a crush on him for a while, but that was in no way relevant. The incorrigible amount of liquor you had consumed had more than done the trick of acting as liquid courage, given you had awoken the next morning in his hammock, both of you stark naked, just a hungover tangle of limbs with no real memory of anything past making out on the quarterdeck while everyone else was staying the night in town.

That had been awkward enough—your eyes locking as you both stirred awake, your face turning beet reed as you scrambled off the green-haired swordsman and quickly threw on enough of your clothes to be able to safely escape, him speaking up behind you as you hurriedly dressed yourself.

“Did we—uh—”

“No idea,” had been your quick, curt response, making sure you didn’t turn around and meet his eye again. “Bye.”

“Wh—? Wait a minute—”

But you had already been out the door. You spent the following days, the following weeks avoiding being alone with the first mate of the Strawhats under any circumstance, avoiding any situation where you might have to actually talk about what had happened between the two of you.

But now you had to talk.

Middle of the night, with everyone else safely asleep so they couldn’t overhear, you stood over him as he lay asleep himself in that same hammock. You stood there for a long, tense moment, arms crossed tight over your stomach, tapping your foot lightly as you looked down at Zoro, deliberating over whether you really had the guts to go through with this.

You decide you have no choice, and you nudge his arm. “Wake up,” you say quietly.

He snores in response.

You sigh to yourself, and nudge his shoulder a little harder, say it again a little more forcefully. “Wake up, come on—”

He gives a small growl of protest at that, rolling his shoulders and stretching his toned arms out behind his head, before tucking one hand under his neck. He squints at you in the small, dark cabin, blinking slowly. The groggy, astonished sort of manner in which he mumbles your name makes your heart skip for a moment.

“Wha…?” He glances past you toward the cabin door, toward the darkness outside on the deck, and asks, “What time is it?”

“Two in the morning.” He quirks an eyebrow as you toe the wooden floor, staring off to the side, biting your lip. “We…need to talk.”

“At…two in the morning,” he repeats slowly. You hum in affirmation and give a small nod, already feeling your face starting to heat up—and you hear him sigh.

Then his hand is around your forearm, and you’re gasping out in alarm as he pulls you down across his chest until your eyes are level with his, your foreheads nearly touching.

His hand slips further up your arm, up your shoulder, back behind your neck, and your blush only grows hotter as he gives you a smirk. “Don’t think there’s really much to talk about.”

And he pulls you down, seizing your lips with his own.

Your brain all but short-circuits. You can barely remember how to breathe as your thoughts whirl. He kissed you. There isn’t a drop of alcohol involved this time, and he still kissed you.

Don’t think there’s really much to talk about.

Maybe that crush of yours was more mutual than you thought it was.

Your eyes flutter shut as you melt against him and return the kiss with a slow sigh, forgetting for a moment what you were doing here in the first place, your tongues meeting and swirling together, his hand drifting down your back, curling around the hem of your shirt and tugging at it and—

And this was exactly how you got into your present predicament in the first place. You tear your lips away from his and sit up at the edge of the hammock, flinching. “No, we…” You glance over your shoulder at him, briefly meeting his eyes as he stares up at you cautiously. “We do need to talk, I…” You swallow, and decide to just rip off the bandage, just say it. “I’m late.”

He’s silent for several seconds, and as you sit there, inwardly panicking, dreading his reaction, he finally speaks up.

“What the hell could you be late for at two in the morning?”

“What—no, I—” you sputter, jerking your head to look over your shoulder at him, sharing his stare of bafflement, as you realized he had no idea what you meant. “I…my period. I—is two weeks late.”

His brow furrows for a moment as that sinks in.

And his eyes slowly widen, and you look quickly away, flinching again, hanging your head.

“O…oh.” He sits up himself, swinging his legs over the side of the hammock to sit next to you, exhaling a slow sigh. “Shit.”

“Mmhmm,” you reply in a weak sort of hum, practically a whimper, watching him run a hand back through his hair from the corner of your eye, his eyes wide, unblinking, glued to the doorframe.

“I…guess it’s a good thing we’ve got a doctor now.” You glance over at him, swallowing nervously as he gives a small, breathless laugh, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for him to be upset about it, even angry. It was just a stupid, drunken one night stand, after all.

Wasn’t it?

Not really much to talk about. His words ring in your head as you watch him fall back across the width of the hammock with another laugh, resting a hand over his eyes. He said it right before he kissed you, sober this time, as if maybe…there was more to it than just an alcohol-fueled one off fling.

“Y…you’re not upset?” you ask carefully, looking down at him.

“Nah,” he says, laughing a little again. He lowers his hand down to rest over his abs, meeting your eyes with a little bit of a grin. “I mean, it is kinda my fault.”

“It takes two,” you point out, frowning.

“Yeah, but you were drunk.”

“We both were.”

“You were really drunk.” You purse your lips and shove at his ribs as he laughs again, sitting back up. He drapes his arm around your shoulders, sighing and shaking his head. “Shit.”

“Shit,” you agree, nodding. “I guess…we talk to Chopper in the morning and…figure things out from there?”

“Yeah. Guess so.” You’re both quiet for a long moment, staring out toward the darkened deck. “You know…” You glance over when he sighs slowly again. “This crew’s…pretty much the closest thing I’ve ever had to family. That most of us have had, probably. Whatever happens with…this—we’ll all have each other’s backs.”

He isn’t at all wrong, and the thought is enough of a comfort to bring a slow sigh of relief from you as well, a small smile to your lips. You shift a little closer and rest your temple at his shoulder, your hand over his, your eyes slipping shut.

“Anyway.,,” Your eyes open when he speaks, and without warning he pushes you back down into the hammock, pressing his lips to yours—and your eyes flutter shut again as his tongue brushes your bottom lip amid the slow, playful kiss.

“Wait—” You draw back from it just as abruptly as you were drawn into it, lifting an eyebrow, fighting a smirk. “Isn’t this sort of what got us into this situation to begin with?”

“Yeah,” he says, lowering himself down to his elbow. He smirks as well, his hand resting at the crown of your hair. “But it’s not like you can get any more pregnant.”

You can’t help but giggle at that, hooking your arm around his neck and shaking your head, smiling. “Fair enough,” you agree, and lift your head to press your lips to his again.

Shanks

It all started three weeks ago, when you first missed your cycle. Your paranoia and anxiety that it could mean that, meant you had stopped drinking entirely. Shanks had been too busy to pick up on it, or simply as carefree and oblivious as ever.

But this morning you had awoken early, perhaps earlier than anyone else on the ship. You checked the position of the log posse and adjusted the course accordingly until it was pointing straight ahead again—and that was when you realized, by the sound of a match striking behind you, that you weren’t the first person awake—and someone had noticed the cessation of your drinking with the rest of the crew.

And almost the moment Benn Beckman confronted you about it, you blabbed your worries to the first mate, and you were fairly sure he nearly swallowed his cigarette.

“You’re what?”

You had joined the Red Hair pirates as a navigator around eight months ago, and had quickly fallen for the charming captain. There was no real agreement that there was anything more between the two of you than casual sex and flirting, nothing exclusive; but it hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice that the two of you were spending more and more time together, and that from an outsider’s point of view it looked a lot more like romance than anything casual.

But you were dead terrified that this news would ruin everything.

Beck just shook his head, grabbed you by the shoulder like a misbehaving child as you ranted, and walked you toward the door to the captain’s cabin. He opened it, and gestured at you to get in.

“You don’t come back out until you tell him,” he said, and you flinched at his stern tone. “Got it?”

“Got it…” you sighed wearily, hanging your head as you entered and shut the door lightly behind you. You had the idle hope that Shanks might be asleep as you entered but now, standing in the doorway, you can see clearly that he isn’t. He’s sitting up against the headboard of his bed—the same bed that you’ve been sharing every night for at least six months—and squinting at a map in the dim light of the lantern hanging from one of the bedposts, wearing an unbuttoned white shirt and black boxers. He looks up from it mid-yawn, and waves at you, nodding at the empty side of the bed to his right.

“You’re up awfully early,” he comments as you kick off your boots and climb into bed next to him.

“Just checking the course,” you say as he hands the map off to you—an old treasure map that you found helping clean out his rather cluttered desk a few weeks ago. “Any breakthroughs?”

“That.” He indicates a crude sketch of what appeared to be a statue. “It’s in Arabasta.”

“You’re sure?” you ask, looking over at him, and he nods slowly. “Oh, great. That’s…”

“Crocodile’s territory,” he says, as you let out a sigh that mirrors his own mildly dejected tone. “If we dock there we’ll be up to our tits in his Baroque Works wackjobs. Not that they’d pose us much of a threat, but…balance of power and all that.” He sighs himself, grabbing the map away from you again and tossing it off the side of the bed, where it flutters slowly to the floor a few feet away. “Not to mention it looks like it’s out in the middle of the desert somewhere. Not worth the time.”

“I guess not,” you say, frowning as you watch him sink back into the bed, his eyes slipping shut, unbothered by what might have been a disappointment to almost anyone else. He hadn’t mentioned the map to anyone else except for you and Beck, had kept it otherwise entirely to himself in case it did turn out to be a bust. Nothing ever really seemed to get under his skin.

You close your eyes for a long moment, bracing yourself. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t get under his skin either. Just as you open your mouth to speak, however, he speaks up himself.

“Now, something that’s much more worth my time…”

“Oh—!” You let out a small cry of alarm as he tugs you down suddenly to lie with him, and he shifts so he’s facing you, his forehead resting lightly against yours, his hand creeping slowly up your stomach to where the lapels of your shirt are tied shut, grinning wickedly.

“…is the beautiful woman in my bed who is, frankly, wearing far too many clothes.”

You can’t help but giggle a little as he sets straight to attacking your neck, his lips trailing down the column of your throat as he deftly works the knot loose, lightly nipping at your collarbone as he shifts you onto your back and brushes the lapels of your shirt open. Maybe you could drop it for now, just for now, you think disjointedly, your eyes slipping shut as his fingertips brush over one of the cups of your bra. Just until…

No. No, if you put it off again, you’re just going to keep putting it off.

“No—wait—” You grab his hand, pulling it away, and he lifts his head, raising his eyebrows in puzzlement. You swallow, glancing away for a moment before returning your gaze to meet his. “We…need to talk about something,” you say quietly.

The confusion in his eyes quickly shifts to concern at your hesitant tone, and he slowly lifts himself away from you, sitting up on his knees. “Alright,” he says, just as slowly, just as cautiously, looking at you as if you’re a ticking time bomb about to go off at any second. “What exactly is it that we—”

“I’m pregnant.”

You just blurt it out, before you can stop yourself, so suddenly that Shanks stops mid-sentence with his mouth hanging open. His eyes widen to saucers as he gawks at you, and he blinks rapidly a few times. “B—be—beg pardon?” he stammers.

You just swallow nervously and nod—you know he heard you. He draws in a deep breath, shoulders going limp, and lets it out after a moment as a tremendous sigh, running his hand back through his hair.

It was rare, if ever, that you had seen your carefree captain in an outright panic, but seconds later he was on his feet, pacing back and forth across the cabin, his hand curled over his mouth. You sit up as well, alternating between glancing at him and staring down at your knees, your stomach tied in knots. You’re sure that this is it, this is the end, this is your final stint sailing with the Red Hair pirates. A ship is no place for a child, after all, for a baby, for a woman with child—

He stops pacing suddenly, his hand slipping down to his chin. “Midwife. We’re going to need—that’s what they’re called, isn’t it?” You lift your head, staring at him in mild alarm as he resumes pacing, now rambling aloud. “We’ll need a midwife, I hardly think Hongo’s qualified—might know someone who is, but…” He shakes his head. “Still probably a good idea for you to talk to—have you?” he asks, stopping to look over at you, and you shake your head rapidly. The only inkling you have that you are pregnant is that you’ve gone well over a month without a period; you had been far too scared to talk with the ship’s doctor about the concern, afraid that he would go straight to Shanks and you would be shoved straight off the ship at the next populated port.

“We’ll need to set that up immediately,” he half-mumbles, and resumes pacing again. “How far along do you think you are?”

“I—er—” Your head is absolutely spinning. “M…maybe eight weeks?”

“Eight? That’s two months, tha—that means there’s only seven more, we’ll need—everything, crib, clothes, probably a rocking chair…”

You listen in growing astonishment as he rapidly lists off everything, already planning far more than you had even thought to, not even the slightest bit upset. He seems almost…excited. You swallow, exhaling a slow, shaking breath, your eyes burning a little as relief floods through you.

“…diapers—” He stops in his tracks again, lowering his hand from his chin and looking at it, frowning. “How am I supposed to change a diaper with one ha—”

He looks over sharply when a small sob escapes you before you can lift your hand to muffle it. You lower your head, closing your eyes tightly, gripping at the edge of the bed as that overwhelming flood of emotion becomes too much to contain.

“Oh—sweetheart…no, no no…” You hear him sigh, his footsteps quickly crossing the room. The bed sinks beside you as he sits down and wraps his arm around you, pulling you tight against his chest and resting his hand near the nape of your neck. “It’s alright, love,” he murmurs gently, combing his fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s alright, we can handle this, okay?”

“I—I thought—” Your breath hitches as you turn your head so your cheek is pressed against his shoulder. “I thought you’d be mad,” you force out. “Th—that I’d—I’d have to leave and—and—”

He tightens his hold around your back, letting out a few soft chuckles and shaking his head. “That’s an absolutely ridiculous thing to think,” he tells you.

“It…didn’t seem ridiculous to me,” you say quietly, your voice choked.

“Well, it is,” he assures you again. “I don’t—look, love.” He shifts his hand from the nape of your neck to your cheek, lifting your head and pressing his forehead against yours. His thumb wipes away the tears streaming down your face, and he smiles warmly. “I don’t want you anywhere but right here. With me. Okay?” Your breaths leaves you in a trembling sigh at the sincerity in his soft tone, the softness in his brown eyes as he gazes into yours. You swallow, and nod quickly, closing your eyes for a long moment.

You draw in a sharp breath in surprise when you feel his lips press lightly against yours in a slow, tender kiss that eases almost all of your tension away in an instant. one of your hands slipping from your lap to rest against his knee as your lips just barely part.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and the knots in your stomach are gone as he lowers his hand to rest it there, smiling. “And we can handle this.”

“I…I love you too,” you whisper, and his smile only broadens at that.

He kisses you again, more firmly this time, before standing suddenly from the bed.

Before you can fully register what’s happening, he’s already heading out the door of the cabin and out onto the quarterdeck, calling out loudly, “Lads, I have an anno—where is everyone?”

You hear Beck scoff from somewhere nearby. “It’s four in the damn morning,” he says. “Probably sleeping.”

“Ah. Right.” A brief pause, and then Shanks goes on, so happily you can practically hear him grinning, “I’m going to be a dad.”

“Yeah,” says Beck. “Congratulations. Now maybe go put on some damned pants.”

“…Right.”

Mihawk

You already know he isn’t going to be happy. After your first missed period, you mentioned children. Merely in passing.

And he had immediately expressed his gratitude that there would never be any of the vile creatures roaming the halls of his castle.

Another three weeks, and you don’t have a choice but to bring it up. You’re losing sleep over it and he’s noticed, because of course he’s noticed. Mihawk doesn’t seem to miss anything, where you’re concerned—except perhaps this, which he seems to have not one single suspicion of.

You lay back on a plush sofa in one of the dens, your head resting in his lap as he sips a cup of coffee and flips through the newspaper, your eyes barely open. All you want to do is sleep. You’ve barely slept in a damned week, his words haunting you every time you do, his potential reaction to this upheaval of the peaceful existence you have both lived at his castle for the past several months.

“It’s likely because you’ve stopped having a glass of wine before bed,” he says, and you sigh to yourself. You had outright lied on that account, told him that for no reason you could discern you were suddenly getting horrible headaches any time you consumed even a drop of alcohol. “It’s been almost two months, you could try again.”

“N…no,” you say. “I can’t.”

He lifts the newspaper and glances down at you, lifting his eyebrows—waiting for you to elaborate. It’s now or never. You pull yourself up, drawing up every ounce of resolve in your body to meet his eyes as he looks at you in growing perplexity, his sharp eyes darting briefly down from your gaze as you bite your bottom lip lightly.

“I…can’t because…” You’re already feeling lightheaded, already reeling from the threat of what may come to pass. “Because I’m pregnant.”

His eyes remain locked onto yours for several tense seconds. He slowly folds down his newspaper and sets it aside on the end table. Slowly, gently as if you’re made of porcelain, he moves a hand down to your shoulder and lightly pushes you up into a sitting position. He opens his mouth, lifting his hand as if about to speak…and closes it again.

He tries once more, and words seem to fail him yet again.

And then he stands from the couch abruptly, without a word, and strides out of the room.

You’re fairly sure you know where he’s headed. You pull in a slow, deep breath, steeling your nerves to the best of your ability, before your rise to follow him. Surely enough, as you expected, you find him in the kitchen, pulling the cork out of a half-full bottle of wine. He glances briefly over his shoulder as you enter.

“How did this happen?” His tone is level, but you notice how he fills his wine glass nearly to the rim.

“Well, you see, when a man and a woman—” The glare he levels upon you shares none of your attempted humor, so you just sigh, leaning back against the kitchen island and crossing your arms. “Probably after that warlord meeting a couple months ago?”

“…Ah.”

That’s all he says on that matter—there isn’t much else to say. Whatever had happened at the meeting was a mystery to you, but it evidently had gone very poorly and been an absolute waste of his time, as he had returned to Kuraigana Island that evening in a bit of a foul mood and set immediately to downing two and a half bottles of wine. You had joined him in the endeavor, and the rest of the night was more than a bit of a blur. You only really knew that you both woke up on a couch rather than your bed the following morning, that you yourself could barely walk from the stiffness in your thighs, and that you had both bickered lightly through your shared hangover about who was going to get up to make coffee, before both giving up and going back to sleep for more than half the day.

“Well. This is…”

He doesn’t seem to be quite sure what it is, so he takes a sip from his overfull wine glass instead, leaning back against the counter opposite you, staring at the wall but clearly not actually seeing it. His eyes are far away, unfocused.

“…unexpected,” he finishes finally.

And takes another sip of wine.

“Mmhmm,” you hum in agreement, both your hands gripping at the counter behind you. You pull yourself up to sit there, your gaze glued to him, carefully studying his face for any sign of emotion, any reaction, but there’s nothing—just that blank, miles away stare. “S…so…what do you…what should we…” His eyes shift over to you, but only briefly, before shifting down to his wine glass.

“I…” He cringes slightly before going on, as if the admission physically pains him, “…don’t know.”

You know there are two things that Mihawk hates above all else in life—unexpected news, and a lack of control. Right now, experiencing both at once in tremendous measure, you can almost see the thin thread of his patience beginning to fray, and you aren’t sure what might happen when it breaks.

You swallow nervously, lowering your eyes when his gaze shifts over to you again.

You hear him sigh in resignation.

“We’ll need to find a doctor immediately to be sure,” he says curtly, and you give a stiff nod in agreement, glancing up at him. He’s staring down at his wine glass again, and continues to do so in silence for several long, tense seconds.

“You’re angry,” you say quietly. He sighs again, shaking his head, and sets the glass on the counter behind him. Your eyes fall to your knees once more as he crosses the kitchen toward you, and shift over to your hand when he rests his over it.

“Not with you,” he says lightly. There’s something different about his tone, but it isn’t anger. It almost frightens you more when you recognize it as uncertainty. You’ve never seen him uncertain about anything.

He pulls your hand lightly, and you slip off of the counter and onto your feet, sighing slowly yourself as he tugs you back against him, his arm curling around your waist. He brushes your hair behind your ear, behind your shoulder, and your eyes slip shut as his lips graze your neck. “I’m not sure if I possess the skillset necessary to be a very…adept parent,” he murmurs.

You can’t help but chuckle a little at that, relaxing back against him as his lips brush your neck again, a silent reassurance that he genuinely isn’t upset with you. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.” You rest one of your hands over his at your waist; and you bring your other up, curling your fingers in his hair near his temple. “I can hear it now,” you say airily, smirking a little, and you go on in a mimicry of his dry, deadpan tone, “’Now, now, we’ve already established Daddy’s cross necklace is not a toy.” You giggle at his irritated sigh, as he pulls his arm tighter around your waist.

“Then again,” he says, “I do have to deal with you being a brat every day and I’ve yet to murder you.”

“See?” You pat his cheek lightly, and he grabs your hand to stop you. “Good practice.” You lean to the side a bit and turn your head, smirking at the wry look he gives you, and pressing your lips to his lightly for a moment. He exhales a slow sigh as your lips part, tilting his head forward until your foreheads touch. “We’ll figure it out,” you murmur softly.

“Yes…” His fingers lace through yours. “I suppose we will.”

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yutasbellybuttonpiercing · 1 month ago

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#3 "i dare you to fuck me (hoshi)"

kinktober 2024 — #3

pairing: kwon soonyoung/ hoshi x reader

au/genre: smut, slightly fluffy (?), best friends!au

word count: 4293 words

warnings: brief nipple play, fingering (f receiving), not detailed oral (f receiving), awkwardness, a bet about orgasms, soonyoung has a big dick (how does this always happen?), piv sex (reader is on unspecified birth control), unrealistic stamina, cream pie 💞

a/n: I WUV HOSHI 🐯 also, can someone please count how many times i've described his body as muscular?

taglist: @rjreins @meowniee @deezbin @ant-onie @ablackbtsstan @gacktsa

"There just is no way you can do it, no one can!" A groan escapes you as you fall back onto your mattress, throwing a pillow over your face to hide your half-embarrassed, half-distressed feelings written all over your face. It's awfully quiet for a moment, and to have a peek to what you assume is happening, you remove the pillow, immediately being greeted with your best friend's face hovering mere inches in front of your own, signed with that look – and therefore be proven correctly.

"I think I can." Soonyoung grins, leaning in closer. His knees rest on each side next to your hips on the mattress, his hands creating deep imprints beside your shoulders as he stares down at you. Involuntarily, your breath hitches. You find yourself staring into his eyes, switching from one to the other as your own widen in realization that – maybe – you're not as much against the idea as you initially suspected.

Soonyoung is commonly known to be absolutely competitive. If everyone was backing down from a challenge, Soonyoung would be the last man standing, facing the difficulties and tearing them apart like a cheese grater. It is something you do admire about him, well, under normal circumstances that do not include your... your body.

"And I think you're being a creep," you announce, pressing your pointer finger to his forehead to push him away. With a whine, he compliantly retracts, a pout forming on his lips, all while you feel like you can finally breathe again. With a scoot, you sit up against the headboard, switching between looking at your best friend and fighting your hardest battle of trying not to look at him.

"Well, I think you're not giving me a chance," he states, criss-crossing his toned legs that you probably shouldn't gaze upon right now to stand your point, but how could you when they're practically begging for you to bite into their muscly flesh?

"Well, I think-" You're forcing your eyes to take in anything but his thighs – a quest hard enough to bring even the strongest soldier to their knees in defeat – "that would cross boundaries that can't be un-crossed."

The playful glint in his eyes disappears suddenly, leaving him to contort his brows in concern. "For real?"

"I mean, yeah?" Your shoulders tense up and your fingers begin fiddling with a loose string on your sock. "Look, the thing is that I'm fine. I don't need to- you know."

The look he sends you is unbelieving, doubtful, unconvinced.

"It was just a random fact I threw into this conversation, I didn't mean for you to jump on the opportunity," you reason, hands gesturing weirdly in front of your chest.

"Alright, my bad," he grins and you thank the universe for the one thing that characterizes your best friend more than his competitiveness: his naivety to believe every lie you tell. Because if he'd tried convincing you for a minute longer, you would've presumably given in. It's not like you don't want to, it's not like the voice between your legs hasn't yearned for Soonyoung's touch once or twice or thrice or more in the past years of being friends. It's just that- how does one move on from that?

"Great!"

"I mean it's your choice if you don't want to cum." Soonyoung shrugs, eyebrows risen with a sly smile on his face as he turns his head, then side-eyes you.

"Exactly." You grin fakely.

"I mean, not to brag, but the feeling is pretty great."

"I know. I can do it myself."

"Sure, but" he sighs dreamily "it's different through the hands of another person."

"Weren't we going to play Mario Kart?" You ask through gritted teeth, trying to change the topic away from your sex-life. Soonyoung might be great at a lot of things, most things even, but how can you be sure he's good at this too? How does one move on from that – okay, maybe that’s somehow possible… but how does one move on from that failing miserably?

"Oh, of course," Soonyoung scoots to sit down next to you and presses a controller into your hands. You would like to say the cool material eases the sweaty feeling of your palms, but it actually intensifies, highlights the feeling, and you try your best to ignore how it threatens to glide from your wet digits every passing second. Not long after, the game starts with Soonyoung immediately taking first place. You try to concentrate, mood dropping when you have to, once again, realize that he is pretty much unbeatable. Saltily, you side-eye him, only to see a smug grin on his face. "What can I say, I'm pretty good with my hands."

"Oh, for God's sake!" You throw the controller down, crossing your arms over your chest and watch Soonyoung win the game just seconds later. Slowly, he turns his head towards you, grinning evilly.

"What?"

"Nothing," he smiles sweetly and you huff, then get ready for the next round which goes by just as quickly as the first, and with the same outcome. Annoyed, you throw the controller across the bed only for it to bounce off the edge and hit the floor with a thump.

"You seem pretty tense, maybe I should help you relax," Soonyoung grins, and you wish upon the Gods to either let the ground swallow you whole or to give you a way to wipe his awful smugness off his handsome features.

Maybe you could punch him. It would most certainly shut him up, but you're not a violent person. You like peace, you like the pigeons, and punching him would only result in the same outcome of a ruined friendship, but without the fun.

Maybe you could kiss him. It would also ruin the friendship, but at least you get half the fun.

Maybe you should just go for broke.

"Okay," you simply say. Judging by the look that takes over Soonyoung's face, he is definitely surprised, but not opposed. He blinks, bottom lip pushing forward in disbelief.

"What?"

"Do it," you demand, grabbing the remote to turn of the TV (the Mario Kart Theme Song is not the ideal background music for getting intimate with your best friend, you decide) and lay down on your back. With a swift motion, you lose your pants, kicking them off your legs and down the bed to pool in a little jean-mountain next to the controller you'd sent off earlier.

Soonyoung looks like he's been petrified while looking at a pot of freshly made budae jiggae. It takes him another split of a second to collect himself before he comes crawling over to you. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure that if you don't do something right now I will kick you out and keep your switch," you answer blandly and, in the same breath, wonder when all of your uncertainty turned into passive-aggressiveness and impatience.

"I didn't pressure you into this, right?" Soonyoung's stare into your eyes is so intense that a part of you melts, but a different part of you wants to show him, to prove him wrong. There is no one who's ever been patient enough with you to make you finish, so maybe it's your poor choice of men, maybe it's your body, maybe it's something else entirely. Of course it bothered you at first, but you've come to terms with it. That was until today. There is just no way that he can bring you an orgasm. It cannot be that simple.

"I swear to God-"

"Can I kiss you?" Soonyoung's voice sounds so soft, uncharacteristically soft. He's appeared besides you, finally settled in laying on his side, slightly towering over your form. The scent of his cologne meets your nostrils as you dare to look up at him, a dark gaze set upon his eyes that makes you gulp, throat drying up with the thought of what's to come.

"Just do whatever you need to-" You don't even get to finish before his soft lips press against yours. He slips his hand beneath your chin to lift it up the slightest bit for better access. His mouth moves gently against your own, obnoxious sounds of lips parting and connecting again litters the quiet room. Sounds that would usually make you gag upon hearing them, but something about it being him makes it okay, makes you not even realize.

It's then when you notice his hand leaving your chin, trusting the way your lips move against his own that you will not pull away without the support. He traces your form, hand stroking over your sides to come to a quick halt at your hips. You gasp as he moves it up again to gently trace the outlines of your breasts through your shirt.

Tingling sensations of want spray through your body like a miniature firework. Soonyoung knows how to touch you, even though he never has, not like that, and when his thumb brushes over your clothed nipple, you gasp against his lips.

You just know he's going to be smug about it, you're not even surprised when you feel him smirk against your lips before resuming to kiss you deeply, adding a little tongue to lick over your lower lip, not yet begging for entry.

His hand leaves your breast, and you feel a little disappointed until you realize he pushes your shirt upwards to create real, skin-on-skin contact with your nipple again. You'd be surprised at how easy it was for you to let yourself go for him, to let him in, to let him explore, if you could concentrate on anything but the way his self-declared skillful fingers are making you feel right now.

With your shirt pushed further up to reveal your body to his eyes, his lips leave yours to attach to a nipple instead, sensually licking and sucking on the bud to leave you back-arched and hungry for more. You voice your wish, and Soonyoung, not without a chuckle, lets go of your breasts to kiss you once again.

His hand leaves your chest to travel south, tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach briefly before exploring the sensitivity of your thighs. He traces soft patterns on the supple flesh, riling you up even more before finally attending to your clothed core.

At the first touch, your eyes roll back behind closed lids, hips bucking into his touch as if having a mind of their own. You know he can feel how your wetness drenched the flimsy material of your panties, and when he finally reaches inside, you feel much less like needing to prove a point. To say his fingers feel good would be an understatement, you would even dare say that you've never had someone else’s touch feel this good.

Soonyoung glides a finger through your folds, collecting enough of your wetness to spread upwards over your clit, then begins circling it. The action makes you clench around nothing. He knows just how to touch you, and you start to believe that he might actually be able to make it happen.

His motions, speed and pressure intensify over time, making you grasp the sheets to keep yourself from thrashing around. At this point, you don't even realize the sounds you're making, nor the volume of them, only spurring Soonyoung on to keep touching you just like that.

Pressure begins building. Your heart skips a beat, then hammers away at twice its original pace to make up for it. The familiar knot in your stomach keeps forming, you cry out, hands, touching everywhere at once to find the closure of knowing what to do with yourself, finding refugee on Soonyoung's shirt. Your lips are no longer connected, instead your forehead rests pressed against his, allowing your panting breath to tickle his lips.

It's happening, it's going to happen-

It’s… it’s gone.

As slowly as it came, it ended abruptly. It still feels good, everything feels so, so good. You feel yourself being on fire, every part of you yearns to feel Soonyoung, more of Soonyoung and Soonyoung everywhere. It's just not enough.

Whether he felt your build up and crashing or not, he does not seem to be ready to give up just yet, instead reaching down to insert a finger into your waiting hole, then another. His movements are neat, concentrated on making you see stars with the way he drags along your walls, pads of his fingers pressing upward to massage into your spot just right.

It builds, it builds, and it's gone.

Reading your signs, Soonyoung moves to lie between your legs. The absolutely drenched material of your panties meets the floor moments later before Soonyoung dives in, lips and tongue connecting to form a firework of sensations between your legs. But it's just not enough, you realize, and you feel like crying. It can't be, he is doing everything right, better than right, so why isn't it working?

"S-Soonyoung-" you bring out. "It's not- it's not working."

"Are you sure? I mean, I could-"

"I can't. It's not going to happen."

"Just let go-"

"I can't!"

"Please-"

"Just let it go!"

It's not awkward, it just feels a little weird. None of you had realized just how much time Soonyoung spent between your thighs, and the reality came crashing down on you as you looked at your phone to overcome the awkward silence, showing numbers that indicated that Soonyoung's last bus was gone for good and there was no way for him to get home.

Hence, the two of you stare holes into the darkness lying next to each other on your bed about half an hour later.

"I'm sorry I couldn't-" Soonyoung whispers into the quiet room.

"That's why I told you, it's impossible," you whine, hiding your face in your hands even though he can't see you anyway.

"Was it... just not good in general?" The uncertainty in Soonyoung's voice is uncharacteristic for him, voice usually overflowing with confidence to a point where it's almost unbearably annoying sometimes. It makes your heart ache.

"No, you were not the problem. You did... everything right, to be honest. I don't want to stroke your already massive ego too much, but I've never been touched like that," you admit, turning to your side to face where you assume him to be.

"Phew," he says, and you can hear the playfulness in his voice clearly. You roll your eyes, but crack a smile. Rustling noises coming from Soonyoung's side of the bed, paired with dipping motions of the mattress that let you guess that Soonyoung's turned to face you as well. Carefully, you reach out to touch him.

"That's my f-, I swear to God if your finger ends up in my nose, that's your problem- no wait, I'll turn on the light," Soonyoung says and follows his own words with actions, and you giggle, closing your eyes to shield them from the stinging brightness of your lamp and scooting your body closer to Soonyoung until you can feel the warmth radiating from his body not only on your hand, that's touching his chest. It's silent for a minute.

"It was really good..." you admit again, Soonyoung's scent reminding you of the happenings earlier, and maybe this is your subconsciousness telling you to try it again, but you're unaware of it.

"If I didn't know any better, I could swear you're trying to fuck me right now," Soonyoung laughs and earns slaps to his chest from you until he has enough and grabs your wrist. "For real though..."

"What?"

"Let's try it again- wait! Hear me out," he warns, and you shut your opening mouth in defeat. "Let's make it a competition, whoever cums first has to buy ice cream tomorrow."

"Ice cream?" You mumble, head spinning a little at his eagerness to try again. You can't believe that this is only his competitiveness speaking, yet you can only speculate the reason why he is so head over heels at the idea of being intimate with you again.

"Ice cream," he confirms, but the tone of his voice dropped in both deepness and volume. A tingling sensation washes over your body, causing your breath to come out shakily as you subconsciously press yourself closer to Soonyoung.

"But isn't ice cream like really cheap? Shouldn't we compete for something a little more... expensive?" You don't notice how your tone changed as well, making it sound like you're unintentionally purring your words.

"It's not about the ice cream, silly," Soonyoung tsks, making you look up at him once again by lifting your chin, "I just want you."

You whimper at that, and fortunately, Soonyoung is quick enough to pull you into another kiss before you can feel embarrassed about your shameless display of attraction. Quickly, the kiss gets heated, yet not hasty, no teeth clashing, no lips crashing, just raw desire and a little too much spit. It’s perfect.

Soonyoung’s hands find your waist, pulling you closer, before shamelessly reaching for the supple flesh of your ass, generously groping a cheek with his hand, making you whimper once again, uncoordinated hands tugging at his shirt, wanting it off, wanting to see the bulky richness of the body you know he’s sculpted to upmost perfection at the gym in the past years.

Following your desperate request, Soonyoung pulls the fabric over his head, he himself too affected to even act cocky about you wanting an opportunity to visually take in his beefy torso, instead panting softly as his intense gaze meets yours.

Though not for long, as yours immediately falls to his strong chest, muscles visibly bulging through his skin, and you can feel yourself gulping from drooling so much. Your nimble fingers quickly find their way onto his skin, softly exploring the wide expanse of muscle paradise as your lips find his again.

Soonyoung softly grunts into your mouth as your fingertips briefly circle his assumably sensitive nipple, then softly pushes you onto your back to hover above you effortlessly, strong arms wrapping around your figure before pulling your shirt off as well.

The in between is a bit of a blur, every glimpse at Soonyoung's body enough to get your head spinning, every one of his touches feeling electric with how turned on you are, and soon, there's not a layer of clothing separating you.

Soonyoung reaches down gently, spreading your folds with his fingers to find your wetness greeting him once again, insisting on preparing you for what's to come as he softly kisses along your neck.

This time, you feel, he's less determined, there's no goal in his mind, he genuinely wants to explore the depths of you, every little part he missed in his determination earlier. But that doesn't make it any less mind blowing.

“You’re so… perfect,” he mumbles into your neck, the sound almost getting lost in your gasps and soft moans as he stretches you with three of his digits.

“Soonyoung…” you whimper needily, trembling hands running down his body, reaching their destination as you wrap a hand around his length.

“Fuck, you’re big,” you gasp in mild surprise, unable to hold back the implied compliment, and the charged atmosphere briefly lightens as Soonyoung lets out a soft chuckle.

“You want it?” He asks, and it’s not only a question of if, but also him trying to gauge if you're ready for him yet.

“Mm,” you hum in approval, hooded eyes hazily looking up at him as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Soonyoung lets out one last breathy chuckle before aligning himself with your entrance, intense gaze meeting yours as he carefully shifts forward, his tip briefly catching on your hole before sliding inside.

Your breath hitches at the stretch despite his preparations, yet you want more, you want all of him, all of Soonyoung as deeply as possible, and to never let him go. And he complies, slowly pushing deeper and deeper, every vein dragging deliciously along your walls that struggle to adjust to the intrusion.

With your eyes rolling back, you let out a soft groan, hands grabbing onto his bulging biceps for any form of stability as your head spins, his tip seeming to slide deeper endlessly, his cock filling you to the very brim before he finally bottoms out.

“Holy shit,” Soonyoung grunts softly, panting breaths leaving his parted lips, eyebrows scrunched in a mix of raw pleasure and trying to hold himself back from just pounding into you right now.

He takes a deep breath, grabbing onto your thigh to adjust it around his waist before stroking all the way over the flesh of your ass and up your waist where he rests his hand to hold you in place as he pulls back slightly, then thrusts experimentally.

A whine escapes your parted lips, fireworks going off behind closed lids, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy at the feeling combined with the mere reality of this situation. Soonyoung’s inside you, reaching depths that you’d naively describe as uncharted territory, and, God, he feels heavenly. And your body seems to agree, clenching automatically as if not wanting to ever let him pull out entirely again.

Soonyoung gasps, then buries his face in your neck again, lips attaching to your skin, peppering open mouthed kisses everywhere he can reach as he repeats his thrust before setting a slow yet steady pace.

Moans tumble from your mouth uncontrollably, the bet about ice cream long forgotten, as well as your uncertainty about whether you can even cum from someone else's touch.

And Soonyoung takes you for hours, pushing your legs and body into every possible position one could think of, whispering sweet yet dirty nothings into your ear for only you to hear, and gifting you the best night of your life.

By the time he announces that he's close, he’s a panting mess, a layer of sweat covering his muscular body while the wetness between your legs has increased to a point where it's almost too slippers, and yet all you feel is pure bliss.

“Cum in me,” you gasp breathlessly, your legs feeling like jelly at this point, “it’s fine… cum in me…”

With his last remaining strength, Soonyoung’s head snaps up, a look of pure astonishment on his face, “for real?”

“Y-yeah.. yeah, I’m-,” you interrupt yourself with a moan as Soonyoung’s thrusts pick up, “yeah..”

“Oh my God..” Soonyoung’s moans get whinier, a tad higher in pitch as he gets closer and closer. He’s managed to manhandle you back into your original position with you on your back, and his hands grip onto your waist to be able to piston his hips into you faster, his face buried in your neck as he grunts in pleasure, “oh, fuck, thank you…”

His thrusts get sloppier, almost losing their rhythm and all you can focus on is how his body slowly tenses up more and more, the veins on his strong forearms bulging as he moans your name into your neck needily. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

Just as you open your mouth to encourage him once again, he picks up his pace yet again, pounding his hips into yours with such force and speed that it makes the bed crash against the wall repeatedly. It takes you by surprise, your back arching and your jaw dropping at the sudden overwhelming sensation, your nails digging into the skin of Soonyoung’s wide shoulders.

He pushes into you harder and harder, as if losing himself completely, his moans growing louder and louder, maybe a bit too loud for the time of night, but neither of you care, merely focused on the pleasure you’re both feeling.

Soonyoung bottoms out again, once, twice, before pushing in impossibly deep, and you can physically feel the exact moment he orgasms, his length pulsating wildly and a warm sensation filling you, and that’s when it happens.

With a soft, tired whine, you feel the knot in your stomach, that you didn’t even notice was forming, snap, your own walls clamping down around Soonyoung repeatedly, albeit rather softly and not as intense as Soonyoung’s high. It takes you a moment to realize.

Your eyes widen. Was that…? The same moment, Soonyoung’s head snaps up, his eyes as wide as your own. Oh, he felt it.

“Did you…?” He whispers, as if afraid that if he talked too loudly, it would turn back time and undo your orgasm.

With parted lips, you stare back at him, “I… y-yeah…”

You expected everything from a cocky remark over an ick-triggering victory dance to an actual orgasm-celebration party featuring everyone Soonyoung’s known since birth, but Soonyoung just leans back down and hugs you tightly. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper back. Hesitantly due to your surprise, you slowly brush your fingers through his hair, suddenly deeply in thought.

Soonyoung actually made you cum? And it was… that easy? Well, despite the fact that it took literal hours… and why did it happen when he- and generally, what now?

“Can I take you out on a date after getting you ice cream?” Soonyoung suddenly speaks up, too exhausted to lift his head once more so his voice gets muffled in your neck.

“Huh?” You ask, sure you must’ve misheard him.

“Date…” is all Soonyoung can mumble.

“You-,” you begin, but quickly shut up. Why not? “Yeah, why not?”

“Fabulous,” Soonyoung mumbles, then presses a wet kiss to your shoulder. A few minutes pass by before he speaks up again. “I’m feeling sticky. Are you feeling sticky? Let’s shower…” he lifts his head, then slowly begins grinning. “We can reminisce about this experience in there…”

Ah, there he is.

#kinktober #hoshi smut #seventeen smut #kwon soonyoung #kpop #smut #kpop smut #fem reader #neohub

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sigma-alpha-writer-chad · 17 days ago

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Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three

[CHAPTER TWO]

CW: Marijuanna use

“Chris, I’m not so sure about this,” I mumble, crossing my arms as I follow my cousin down the forest trail. “Things are just going to get super awkward.”

“Then just… don’t talk to him. Can’t be that hard, right?” Chris responds. I can tell that he knows as well as I do that Josh himself would do whatever it takes to get under my skin in any given circumstance.

“It’s his house,” I retort.

“It’s Hannah’s get together,” he replies. “She knows how you guys are, hopefully she’ll get him off your ass.” I say nothing. "Just..." Chris stops walking and turns around to look me in the eyes.

"What?"

"Just please try to get along?" He asks. His expression is serious and pleading. I sigh, heavily. Why wasn't he on my side? Why can't Josh try to get along with me?

"Sure, Chris," I relent. "I'll... do my best." Chris smiles at me appreciatively and continues down the trail. I hate this. I don't want to be walked over, I don't want to be the doormat or the verbal punching bag for whoever was in a bad mood that day - especially Josh's. But I didn't want to ruin everybody else's good mood, either. If no one else sees a problem, why am I so upset?

The autumn trees towered above us, providing shelter from the warm sun – although some warmth would be appreciated as the temperatures dropped lower by the day. I’d only been to the Washington house before for some rager of a graduation party, when the sky was dark. With the sun, however, the gorgeous forest could make me almost forget I was on a death march to the lair of my enemy.

Chris and I finally make it to the porch of the Washington home. He turns to me, as if to say “after you!” I hold my arms tighter to my body and shake my head. So, after a roll of the eyes, he knocks. There’s a muffled call from the other side to let us know someone was coming to let us in. Just my luck, Joshua opens the door.

“What are you, Chris, a vampire? Gotta be invited in, now?” Josh jokes, a wide grin on his face.

“I’m with Jordan,” Chris says, as if clarifying. Josh looks over Chris’s shoulder to see me. I swear I see his smile widen, and I can only think that can’t be good.

“You can leave her outside, Chris, no worries,” Josh snickers as he steps aside, holding open the door for Chris and I. As I walk past, I nod and offer a gentle thanks. “You’re welcome, pet.” Immediately, Chris sighs as if he knows whats coming. He knows I want to say something – but the guilt I feel in my chest for ruining every good mood keeps me from speaking. Instead, I just give him a hurt, frustrated look.

Josh seems surprised. Next to the shock, though, is a flash of an emotion I can’t quite catch. It’s Josh, however. So I didn’t much care. I walked into the living room, where everyone else was waiting. Hannah stands up and hurries to greet me, walking straight past Chris to pull me into a hug.

“Ahh, thank you for coming! I’m glad you could make it!”

“Oh, uhm, thank you!” I pause. “For inviting me, I mean. You have a lovely home.” I give an awkward bow, staring wide-eyed at the floor. You’re so fucking weird, what are you doing?! I scold myself. I know they’re thinking it, too, but I once again push the negative thoughts away.

“We’re gonna head down to the basement,” Hannah says, smiling as if I hadn’t just made the most awkward air possible. “Do you smoke?” I’m taken by surprise. Chris, Josh, and everyone else walks past Hannah and I and towards the stairs.

“Smoke?” I repeat. “What, like, weed?” Hannah giggles.

“Yes, like, weed,” she says.

“Yeah, sometimes. Not often, though.”

“Great! We have weed.”

“Sounds… good.” A part of me is relieved. Maybe with something in my system I’ll be able to relax for once. Especially around Josh. I feel a burning anger in my chest at just the thought of him. Hannah takes my hand firmly and begins to lead me to the stairs the others had gone down. I make a mental note that the twins both really seem to like holding hands. Not that I minded. It just wasn’t that common for someone to take your hand in theirs when showing you around their house.

We get to the basement, and it’s noticeably colder. And massive. My eyebrows raise as I look around the room. There’s a huge TV mounted on the wall, a large circular wooden table in the middle of the room on a round, purple rug. Around the table for seating were two L couches, and on the couches were Hannah’s friends. Not everyone, though.

Matt, Sam, and Jess were missing, leaving just Ashley, Mike, and his girlfriend Emily, who was casually sitting on his lap. Next to Mike and Emily, Chris unsurprisingly had sat next to Ashley, leaving the other couch to Hannah, Beth, Joshua and I. For a moment I wondered if this could be some kind of set up. Hannah quickly left my side to sit next to Beth on the furthest end of the couch. On the other side was, of course, Joshua, rolling a joint. And, of course, the only open seat was next to him.

And he knew it.

I didn’t want to be rude or, again, make things awkward. And so, I sat next to Joshua Washington. It’s here, watching him focused on something that I suddenly realize how tired he looks. The underside of his eyes were dark, as if he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in days.

“Like what you see?” Josh smiles, eyebrows raised. I frown in response.

“No.” I immediately regret this as the vibe is instantly brought down by my rude answer. “I mean, like, not NO, but I just mean I didn’t -”

“Calm down, girl, I’m just… just JOSHING ya,” he laughs. I roll my eyes but I can’t help the small smile that hints at my face. Josh’s head snapped to his sisters, mouth wide open in a smile as if he can’t believe I was capable of anything but a straight face or a frown. “I made her smile!” He whisper yells. I hate it, but it makes it harder to keep the smile down. Somehow I manage not to fully grin.

“Alright, you first, Mike,” Josh says, handing the dark haired boy the joint. Mike takes a long drag and shotguns it to Emily. My lip twitches, threatening to make an obvious sneer at the strong PDA.

“Ohh, spicey,” I hear Josh laugh. “Chris and Ashley next.” Ashley and Chris immediately chime in in a chorus of no’s. Chris takes the joint and takes a hit. I notice his hands are shaking. The idea of his lips so close to Ashley’s is more than it appears he can take. I can hear Josh continue to laugh to himself as Ashley is handed the joint.

“So, what’s the plan for the winter this year?” Beth says, her face shining with excitement. “Are you guys coming?” Mike and Emily look away from each other, their teasing and giggling cut short by Beth’s question. Despite the unhappy look on Emily’s face, she answers. Ashley passes the joint to Hannah.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, hon,” she smiles, but it looks forced and sarcastic, even. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion as to why she’s here – and why does she keep getting invited? Mike nods next to her, a smile on his handsome face. He seems much more laid back and agreeable than his girlfriend, who I notice is looking me up and down. “Do you have a problem or something, weird girl?” I’m taken aback at the sudden confrontation and I sit up straight. My heart begins to pound. Hannah passes the joint to Beth.

“No, I don’t. I was just -”

“Staring at me like some sort of creep? Yeah, I saw. I saw you look at my man, too. What’s up? You want him?”

“What? No, I -”

“You can’t have him. So eyes off, bitch.” I clench my jaw, hard. I swear I almost cracked a tooth.

"Emily -" Mike starts, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration and embarrassment. He shoots me a worried, apologetic look.

"No, it's fine," I say, staring Emily directly in the eyes. As I expected, she takes it as a challenge. "I looked at you, yeah. When you're sucking face like that it's hard to ignore." Beth passes the joint to Josh.

"Well, keep looking." Emily hisses, throwing her arms around Mike and holding his neck tightly. I wonder if he can breathe. I clear my throat and look up at Chris. His eyes are already a bit droopier, but through his mild high he still looks back at me with a sort of pity and embarrassment that I just can't stand.

Josh hands me the joint.

"Go on, take a big drag, babydoll," Josh grins at me. I frown at him. He did nothing wrong, but I still can't help but feel like he's making fun of me in some way. Still, I ignore the nickname. I know he's just trying to get under my skin, yet I can feel the tips of my ears heat up in embarrassment. I side-eye Josh as I put the blunt in between my lips. He's staring at me as if he's studying me, his ever present smile missing from his face, eyes half closed. He couldn't be high that quickly, could he?

As he suggested, I take a long drag, adding a bit of 'coolness' by French inhaling.

"Oh, so cool, I've never seen that before," Emily says sarcastically. I ignore her as I pass the weed back to Mike. Mike doesn't look at me as he takes it, instead glaring at Emily. I can tell he's embarrassed by her cruelty.

I don't hate Mike. He's never been my favorite person in the world, but he's never done anything to me or that I've seen that could make me dislike him other than his habit of... Well, women. However, I could tell that despite her attitude Mike saw something beneath that and really did care about Emily. He was handsome, I could never deny that. Thick, dark hair and brown eyes, a chiseled jaw and a decent body to match. The more time I spent near him the more I understood that he really wasn't a stereotypical 'high school hot guy.' Mr. Class President. He locks eyes with me and gives me an awkward smile. I can sense an apology in his expression. I want to return a look, but I quicky shift my gaze before Emily catches on to the telepathic conversation.

As we continue the rotation, the conversation of their winter plans continues on. I listen, but I don't contribute due to my lack of invitation. I look around me, and everyone looks happy and content. I can feel my own high start to creep up under my eyes, and I can't help but smile to myself. It was pleasant. Even though these were people I didn't yet consider friends outside of Chris, Beth, and Hannah, I didn't feel completely out of place in this moment. I felt content for the first time in a long time.

An hour passes.

"Hey, I'm sorry, where's your bathroom?" I ask. I start to think I might be greening out and I needed a moment to myself. Josh turns to me, a dopey grin on his face.

"The bathroom?" He asks. I smile back at him.

"Yeah, the bathroom."

"What for?" Josh scoots closer as if to hear me better.

"I'm getting anxious, I think," I admit. This surprises me. Why would I tell Josh I'm anxious? So he can make it worse? Instead of poking fun at me and telling everyone to look, his smile fades slightly and his eyebrows twitch in what looks like concern.

"Anxious? Are you ok?"

"I'm greening," I say, widening my eyes for a moment to exaggerate. Josh takes my hand.

"I will escort you to the bathroom," he says, standing up. "It's kind of a maze, this house." He's smiling at me. Even under the influence I can't help but search for any sign of malicious intent. My anxiety spikes further. What does he have planned?

"Can't you just tell me how to get there?" I ask, though I stand with him anyway.

"Yeah, but you'll get lost."

"Joshua Washington," Hannah starts, her tone that of a parent warning their child. "You better not upset her or I swear..."

"Yeah!" Beth chimes in.

"Awe, guys, give me a chance! Give me a chance..." He trails off, beginning to lead me to the stairs, still holding my hand. When we're further away, I inform him that my hand was still in his. "Oh, can I just keep holding it? Your hands are just so soft." I say nothing. How do I respond to that? Is this some sort of joke?

"Your hands are calloused," is all I can muster.

"Oh, man, is that bad?"

"No."

We stand in front of a door. I assume it's the bathroom but I can't think clearly. Josh just stares at me. I ask him if this is the bathroom. He says nothing. He's expressionless.

"You seem anxious around me, do I make you anxious?"

"Is this the bathroom?" I ask. Silence. My heart is pounding. What is he trying to do? Embarrass me? He's staring into my very being. Of course he makes me anxious.

"...yeah." He steps aside, opening the door for me. He suddenly seems sober. I feel a pang of guilt as I walk past him and into the bathroom. Why? I stare at myself in the mirror, studying my own features. I'm not wearing any makeup, but I kind of wish I did. Maybe some mascara, or something. My cheeks and the tips of my ears were a light red, my flustered state obvious. As I observe myself, my mind wanders to the people out there, in the basement. Chris seems to really enjoy their company. Outside of Emily and Josh, I do too. Yet I still can't help but question it all.

Did they see me as a charity case? They never invited me to anything before, no texts after I'd moved. The friendship or my classmates was utterly and completely out of nowhere. Why did Beth and Hannah invite me? My pupils are dilated. I look tired. My eyes water. Will I be invited again? I think I hope so.

A knock on the door makes me jump.

"Are you ok in there?"

"It's been like, 10 seconds."

"It's been like, 10 minutes, J." Had it really been that long? There was no way. J? I find myself wondering where such a familiar sounding nickname came from.

"Are you timing me?" I ask.

"No," he answers. "I'm not." A beat of silence.

"Have you been waiting for me this whole time?" Josh doesn't answer. After a moment of silence, he knocks again.

"Are you ok in there?" I roll my eyes and sigh in frustration, opening the door and stepping out. Well, trying to. Josh is standing directly in the opening and I bump into him, hard, but he doesn't stumble. He grabs both my shoulders as if to hold me still, keep me from falling over. I only notice now he's taller than me by a few inches, my eyes in line with his mouth.

"Yeah," I say, frozen in place. He's touching me

Why is he touching me? Why? His grip loosens, noticing how tense I am.

"You were just in there for a while, and," he paused, taking a step back. "I dunno, sometimes people cry at get togethers or whatever." I chew on my lower lip. I had almost cried. "It would've been a major bummer, or whatever."

"Do I look like I was crying?"

"Yes." I'm taken aback, lifting my hands to my face. Sure enough, my cheeks are wet with what can only be tears.

"How would - how would you know?" Now it's his turn to be embarrassed. He takes another step back from me as he looks at the wall to my left, shifting his weight. Is he nervous?

"...I've seen you cry a lot."

"Oh. Right." The silence is deafening. "Let's go back downstairs." I wipe my face dry with the sleeves of my sweater. "Thanks for showing me where the bathroom is." I try to change the subject. He says nothing, only offering me a nod this time. He doesn't take my hand.

"Next time you're on your own." He huffs, turning on his heel and walking quickly away from me and back towards the basement. I'm taken aback by the sudden shift in attitude but I bite my tongue. I promised Chris I would do my best to get along with Josh, and I intended to keep it. But damn was it difficult.

Back into the basement, Josh is already sat and smoking. I furrow my eyebrows. Did he have to be high to tolerate my presence? I shake the thought from my head and take my place next to him. He shifts, scooting slightly further away from me. My chest fills with a deep, rumbling anger, and I grip the sides of the couch tightly. I didn't do anything to him.

"You'll be coming, right, Jordan?" Beth asks. I snap out of my thoughts and lean forward to see her over her brother, who stiffens.

"What? Coming to what?" I ask. Beth smiles and rolls her eyes playfully. I can hear Emily snicker and Mike sigh at her in mild frustration, saying her name as if in a warning - again. Chris is watching Josh, his eyes seemingly scanning for something.

"Our parents own a lodge up on a mountain," Hannah answers for Beth. "In the winter we all spend a few days up there. No parents, if you were wondering."

"And you're invited," Beth butts in. "It would be rude of us to talk about it so much in front of you if we didn't plan on taking you along." I'm passed the blunt, but I don't hit it this time. I'm high enough.

"Uh, well, I don't know," I start, chewing at my bottom lip. I glance at Josh, who is staring at me intensely. The sudden eye contact kind of freaks me out. I look at Chris, who shrugs at me, his expression wide eyed and clueless. Emily rolls her eyes, and the twins look at me expectantly. "I... I don't think I would be any fun." My heart pounds. I don't want to spend time trapped on a mountain for days near Joshua Washington. I would expect to wake up one morning with my mattress somehow moved outside as a "joke."

"What? Why?"

"I'm just not a partier." I gulp. I look again at Chris. I can't tell what he's thinking. Does he want me to come? Does he think I'll ruin it for him? For everyone?

I think I would.

"Jordan, please. Just think about it?" Hannah pleads, standing up from her place on the couch to crouch down in front of me like a parent talking to their child. I can feel Josh's gaze boring into me, telling me I'd better not dare to say yes. My eyes snap to his, my head unmoving.

If you come to the lodge I will make your life hell.

The anger in me bubbles and burns to the point of pain, my jaw clenching. I can't help but think about how many times I'd missed out on something because Joshua Washington would be there or even nearby. How many tears have I shed over this asshole? And now what? Now he thought he could control me?

"Jordan?" Hannah repeats. I know she can see the staring battle between Josh and I.

"You know what, Hannah?" I start. Something in Josh's expression changes. The warning is still there, but now there's something else. Shock? Admiration?

"Yeah?" Hannah starts to smile, though there's a hint of nervousness to it. I wonder if regret ever creeped into her head.

Fear?

I don't know. But I know I'm done with agreeing to be put down and pushed around for the comfort of others. If Joshua Washington wanted a battle he sure as hell would get one, though this time there was no winning for him. I'm not laying down anymore. I turn my head so I'm fully facing him. His expression shifts further towards surprise and realization that something was different.

"I'll be there."

-------------------------

Whoo!! Sorry for the wait! Thank you for your patience.

Taglist: @sc4rrc @mattymxmo @cellyx33 @jenepleurepasbaby

#josh washington #josh washington x reader #josh washington x you #joshua washington #until dawn #until dawn x reader #x reader #jordan = y/n

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lisired · 8 days ago

Text

(at the end of the day) everybody dies

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: angst, smut, major character death, graphic descriptions of violence

summary: denial after denial, your step-brother continues to nag you about an upcoming high school reunion, until you finally agree to tag along. it’s awkward seeing your ex-boyfriend, haechan, again for the first time in years, but you have no time to dwell on the past with the threat of undead students banging on the school gates.

word count: 20k

a/n: part 3/3 of my wanted: dead or alive series. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to leave this school, to never step foot here again, but you had made a promise you were none too keen on breaking.

Though to be fair, you had been pressured and borderline manipulated into coming. Mark, your stepbrother, was the only reason you had bothered to show up at all. You had no idea why he couldn’t drag himself to your stupid high school reunion on his own.

But alas, what your annoying little stepbrother wanted, he almost always received. Though not without a fair tradeoff. You would be sure to do something that would momentarily destroy his life at some point.

At the moment, the idea of storming out and abandoning him without a ride was particularly appetizing.

“Mark, I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you said as you approached the fiery, demonic gates of hell.

Mark rolled his eyes for the nth time today alone. You had been insufferable about this entire trip ever since he (forcibly) asked you to come. “We’re already here. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s not too late to turn around,” you reminded, scratching at the blue denim of your pants. “We can always change our minds, you know. Go shopping instead.”

“Not a chance,” Mark replied, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you straight ahead. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, but Mark gave you little to no say in the matter. He pushed you forward until you exasperatedly swatted his hands away, insisting that you knew how to walk on your own, and braced yourself for the inevitable havoc.

You both knew the real reason you didn’t want to come back here and it had nothing to do with the school itself. Well, maybe. There were a lot of memories you’d buried on school grounds, good and bad. Some memories better than others. Some unspeakable. The point was that your rationale behind leaving was something much darker.

Walking through the double entrance of your former school, you were surprised by how uniquely different and yet familiar the place looked on both the inside and outside. The campus looked recently renovated, but it wasn’t completely unrecognizable. There were the usual old brick walls, but fresh blue paint and brand new white pillars.

You wondered if they finally upgraded the bathrooms. Though you had wanted better ones since freshman year, even when you graduated, they were still pathetically disgusting. The entire student body had been hoping for something cleaner. More like begging.

Mark studied the entrance hall in awe for a moment before flitting his gaze back to you, patting you on the shoulder. “We’re early. Wander around a little bit. See how much the school has changed over the past decade. That’ll give you enough time to get your mind together before the others get here.”

You silently shrugged in answer, deliberately sulky. Mark had definitely planned this out. No doubt he had been expecting your stubbornness.

With that, Mark turned and started down the hallway, most likely going to check out the school for himself. You didn’t understand why he was here any more than you understood yourself. He wasn’t even a part of your senior class.

You stood in place for a moment as you glanced about awkwardly, uncertain of here to go first. There were so many options, and far too many of them brought back forbidden memories. The kind that you were to never, under any circumstances, speak of.

After a long minute of wavering, you ultimately decided to pace in the direction of the lockers, concluding it was the safest option. Despite how many years had gone by, the journey still felt so natural. The route was engraved inside your memory, with the once in a lifetime experience of not having to shove past other students in a crowded hallway.

The lockers looked a little different. They were still the very exact shade of blue they had been a decade ago, but with some touch ups. You stood in front of yours, something bittersweet making your heart throb. Many memories existed here. Stupid, petty arguments and stolen kisses.

With how engrossed in your thoughts you were, the last thing you were expecting was for someone to come up behind you.

“Boo!”

You jumped, screaming as loud as your lungs would let you. Startled, you jolted to look to the other side, coming face to face with Johnny Suh. “God, you asshole,” you swore, a hand put over your speeding heart. “I can already tell you’re still annoying.”

Johnny laughed. “Is that your way of greeting someone you haven’t seen in years?”

You scoffed, very familiar with Johnny’s shenanigans, and retorted, “Only if scaring the living the hell out of them is yours.”

Despite the annoyance in your tone, you pulled Johnny in for a well-overdue hug. And Johnny, ever the gentleman, made sure to ensure maximum distance between your bodies. Maybe it was a little bit too chivalrous. Sure, a whole decade had gone by, and Johnny had always been respectful, but he had never been one to mind a splash of contact between friends.

Male or female, for the record. You pulled away first, crossing your arms in suspicion. “What’s her name?”

Johnny’s eyes widened in surprise. “Is it that obvious?”

You laughed. Was that a serious question? “You just gave me the most courteous hug ever and I know you’re the last person to be scared of tits. You definitely have a girlfriend.”

“Fiancée, actually,” Johnny replied with a smile, holding up his hand to show off the band on his finger. “I’m engaged. I bought us matching rings.”

You gawked, surprised. Johnny was one of the few people in the bunch who you had never imagined to have a successful long-term relationship, so this kind of life update was totally unexpected. “Engaged to who?” you asked, flabbergasted.

“Victoria,” Johnny replied casually.

That threw you for another loop. Victoria, as in Victoria Kim? The same Victoria you literally bet five dollars wouldn’t take Johnny back if he was the last guy on earth? There was no way in hell. “Didn’t you guys break up?”

Johnny smirked, having been anticipating that reaction from you. Everyone he knew had been in a state of shock when he mentioned he’d rekindled his relationship with his high school sweetheart. “You’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Understatement of the decade. Literally. There were only a few people you were currently up to date with in your former friend group, although that was merely because of forced proximity. Mark, Taeyong, and Jaehyun were all in some kind of dance squad together with a couple of other buddies they had.

Johnny, on the other hand, had become something like a ghost after graduation. You knew virtually nothing about his life after high school and you hadn’t really made an effort to maintain the friendship via social media, which was partly because of the fact that your account had gotten hacked by some stalker, but that was an entirely different conversation.

You shook your head, clearing the thoughts away. “Congratulations,” you replied, still reeling with shock.

“Thank you,” Johnny said, leaning against the lockers. “What about you? Dating anyone?”

Your eyes widened, although you probably should have been expecting it. Fuck’s sake, this was a high school reunion. There were going to be a million questions thrown at you about your personal life and you had to be prepared to answer all of them. “Me? No. I’ve had a few brief stints, but nothing lasting.”

Johnny nodded in understanding, tempted to probe you about the brief stints in question, but held himself back. He didn’t want to make you too uncomfortable. “Ah, I get it. The dating pool is pretty fucked up right now anyway. You’re not missing out.”

“Says the engaged man,” you quipped. “You don’t have to say things just to make me feel better.”

Johnny threw his hands up. “You caught me.”

You grinned, appreciating the fact that Johnny was still admirably sincere. He kept things real, but he was cautious with his words and did his best not to hurt anyone’s feelings. You could see the maturity in his face and although it gave you whiplash, it was a pleasant addition to his character.

There was still a lot to get used to. You were genuinely happy for his engagement, however, you would be lying if you said it didn’t rub salt in all the wrong wounds. So many years ago, everybody said it would be you walking down the aisle in a beautiful white dress. And now ironically, Johnny would be getting married to the same woman everyone swore he wouldn’t last three seconds with.

Which, according to Victoria herself, was very inapplicable in bed. And to be fair, they had dated without breakups for nearly two years in high school.

You forced the thought out of your head again, knowing that you were cruising down dangerous waters. Glancing up at Johnny, you asked, “Did you get taller?”

Johnny glanced down at you, noting the remarkable high difference he had never failed to tease you over in high school, and replied, “I’ve always been taller than you.”

“No shit,” you replied, because that wasn’t even what you had asked. “But did you grow?”

Johnny teased, “Nah. I think you just got shorter.”

You rolled your eyes and directed your attention back to the blue lockers, too annoyed to look at his face. Your lockers were right next to each other, meaning you got the pleasant luxury of hearing him and Victoria make out before every other class period like the two love-struck teenagers they had been.

Not that you had been much better.

“Haechan’s been single too,” Johnny told you offhandedly.

You furrowed your brows. “I didn’t ask about Haechan.”

“No, but you were thinking about him.”

He had you there. Haechan had been all you could think about since the moment Mark asked if he could drag you along with him to this goddamn reunion, and he was single-handedly the only reason why you would have rather been at home. The thought that you would inevitably have to face him at some point today made you immensely antsy.

No one needed to know that though. You didn’t want to seem like you weren’t over a relationship you had been in literally a lifetime ago. “And what would you like me to do with that information?”

Johnny shrugged, but there was a certain hint of mischief to the smile on his lips, and you weren’t even remotely curious about what it meant. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m just saying. He’s single, you’re single. I thought you would be curious.”

“Not even a little bit,” you lied through your teeth.

Johnny could see straight through your tale, but he didn’t call you out on it. He didn’t need to. You were already filling in the blanks on your own, just as he had intended. “If you say so.”

You considered giving him a snarky response, but you refrained, deciding that you’d rather keep up your facade of nonchalance. In no way would you give the impression that you were invested in Haechan’s love life. Instead, you deflected the attention, asking, “How’s Vicky?”

“She’s doing great,” Johnny replied, smiling at the mere mention of his betrothed. You could tell he was smitten. “She works in the foreign language department of a beauty brand and she makes good money doing it too.”

You were pleased to hear that. “No surprise there. She’s always been the better bilingual.”

“Oh, definitely,” Johnny agreed. “She speaks flawless Korean and rarely mixes it with English. I’m kinda jealous. But at least living in Korea improved my accent.”

You gawked and raised your voice up a shrill pitch, asking, “When the hell did you do that?”

“Like I said, you’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Johnny teased, seemingly having fun dropping all this new information on you out of the blue. “Anyway, I’ll catch you in a bit. I’m gonna go see if Jaehyun’s made it here yet.”

“Okay. Good luck finding him if he has. That guy can hide anywhere,” you joked.

“Not from me, he can’t,” Johnny said with a chuckle, turning and heading down the hall.

You heaved a breath when he was gone. The first conversation had gone by smoother than anticipated, which took a few weights off your shoulders, but not many. You were still dreading bumping into your ex.

With a hand wound through your hair, you willed yourself not to make a beeline for the gates. You honestly hadn’t been expecting to speak to anybody already. You thought Mark had said you’d have some time before the others got here. Then again, Johnny was nothing if not punctual. You couldn’t think of a single time he had arrived late to homeroom, even if all he did was goof off.

At the thought of Mark, you decided to find wherever the hell he had ran off to. The school wasn’t that damn interesting. There were only a number of places actually worth visiting the last time you’d stepped foot on campus.

You predictably found him in the courtyard, where you remembered Mark had spent the bulk of his free time, usually chatting with his fellow underclassmen or writing underneath one of the trees by the fountain. At the moment, however, he was sitting on the edge of the fountain obviously flirting with a very pretty girl.

Mark had his arm draped over Xiu’s shoulder and a hand over her thigh, which was crossed on top of her other leg. They were laughing about something that must’ve been super funny, because the way her body rattled as she laughed was almost violent. The whole sight was disappointing.

Normally, you would never deliberately get in the way of your brother’s endeavors to score a beautiful lady, but today had given you a lot of momentum. You pranced over like a disapproving parent, arms folded.

“I guess I know the real reason you wanted to come here, Mark,” you said as they noticed you approaching.

Mark’s face flushed slightly, like he had been caught. Xiu, on the other hand, laughed and stood to give you a hug. “Oh my god. I haven’t seen you in, like, forever,” she said.

You unfolded your arms to hug her back, grinning from ear to ear as you went in, but making sure to send a disdainful glare Mark’s way over her shoulder. “I know,” you replied, pulling back with a beaming smile. “How’s life abroad?”

Xiu went on to gush about her life in Guangzhou, where she had moved after graduation to live with her maternal grandmother. With how she spoke of the city’s food and culture, you almost wanted to take a vacation yourself. She asked you about your life away from the city too, seeming genuinely intrigued.

Though she was entirely none the wiser to the look Mark was giving you as he sat behind her on the fountain. He looked like he wanted to mangle you. You barely suppressed a laugh, but somehow managed to keep it in until you begrudgingly decided to leave after a few more minutes.

“I think I’m gonna go now. Wouldn’t wanna get in the way of whatever you two obviously have going on,” you said after a moment, donning a perfect smile.

Mark looked relieved, resisting a grateful sigh. Xiu thought nothing of your departure. If anything, she seemed a little disappointed, but she knew she’d see you again once the gathering kicked off. She said your name and bid you goodbye. “See you in a few,” she told you, waving.

Reciprocating her kindness, you waved back, turning around and heading back inside the school.

You hadn’t shown it while Xiu was still paying attention, but you were definitely more than a little mad at Mark right now. The sheer audacity of him to bring you here knowing you were scared shitless of running into your ex, solely so that he had an excuse to speak to some girl he liked. Was he fucking serious?

It was the ultimate betrayal. No wonder he’d been so adamant on showing up to a high school reunion despite for one, it having nothing to do with him, but for two, him already being up to date with half the people attending.

Maybe you were being overdramatic. The moment Mark first saw Xiu it had practically been love upon first sight. He’d had a crush on her since his freshman year and pined over her like some hopeless idiot until she graduated. It was something of a miracle she was actually paying attention to him now. You should have been happy.

Pacing down another hallway, you bristled with annoyance. Then, a familiar face caught your eye, standing in front of a bulletin board between two classrooms. “Tae,” you called out.

Taeyong turned his head, smiling when he recognized you. “Hey, bossy. How’s it going?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the nickname, exhaling a breath as you came closer. “At this rate, I’m gonna need a detailed timeline describing the events of everyone’s lives over the past ten years,” you quipped.

Taeyong burst into laughter. “I get it. Did you know Johnny is getting married?”

“He just told me a few moments ago,” you replied, still feeling the after effects of shock. “And to Victoria of all people. Like, I never thought she would take him back. He must have seriously grown up.”

Taeyong nodded along. “Oh, yeah. Johnny’s grown up big time. I swear, it gives me whiplash sometimes.”

You didn’t know exactly why Johnny and Victoria had broken up. She only voluntarily gave her side of the story to a select few people and went on about her life as if he’d never existed in it whatsoever. But it wasn’t difficult to assume that it was Johnny’s teenaged boy tendencies that had culminated in a devastating breakup.

Their entire relationship was a mystery at this point and you were kind of tempted to get to the bottom of it all. “I’m still waiting to figure out how they even made up with each other. From what I remember, their breakup was pretty final.”

Taeyong hummed. “My thing is they were in different places. I think Johnny just needed some time to learn about life and Victoria needed to focus on herself. They couldn’t grow together.”

That was a perspective you had never considered before. You had always just assumed that with Johnny’s track record, Victoria finally realized she was way out of his league. “That’s true. I hear she’s doing really well. I’m glad they’re both in a spot where they can be happy on their own as well as with each other.”

There was a curious gleam in Taeyong’s gaze, but if he was thinking about something in particular, he didn’t say a word. “How are you doing? The last time I saw you, you were super grouchy. I’ll never forget the way you took over our practice.”

“I did not take over your practice,” you insisted, although he wasn’t exactly wrong. “I just couldn’t help but notice you guys were a little out of sync. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks so much,” Taeyong replied with a hint of sarcasm. “You didn’t answer the question though.”

“Hm?”

“How are you doing?”

Taeyong was someone you didn’t feel like you had to hide with. There wasn’t a mean bone in his body and he was the least judgmental person you knew. “I’m okay,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging. “I didn’t really want to come here, to be honest. But Mark always gets whatever he wants eventually.”

“I figured,” Taeyong said, chuckling in amusement. Mark was rather spoiled. “I was surprised when Mark told us you were coming.”

“Have you seen him?”

Taeyong had a strong feeling that you weren’t talking about your stepbrother. “Haechan? No. He probably overslept or something. Might have even forgot the reunion was today at all.”

You laughed, but you strongly doubted it. Haechan wasn’t a very forgetful guy. His sharp memory had been his whole excuse to whisk you off on random dates. He always remembered your anniversaries, the day you first met, the day you first said you loved each other.

No, Haechan would never forget something like this. If he didn’t show up, it was because he didn’t want to. And you had a feeling you knew why.

You veiled the nostalgic emotions racing through you behind a smile. “That’s awfully optimistic. Anyways, I couldn’t help but notice that we’re standing right beside Doctor Nam’s class.”

Taeyong nodded, grinning from ear to ear. Ironically, there wasn’t much about that class to smile about, but it resuscitated some happy memories. “This is my first stop. I had to come here right away. It’s been so long.”

You shook your head, wistful. “God, she was the best. She literally kept us alive in third period with the snacks she passed out.”

“Yeah, because she knows AP English Lit is boring,” Taeyong said with a chortle. “My nephew says she still hands them around.”

That surprised you a little bit. You usually saw teachers get grouchier as they got older. You had to commend her for not losing her mind after more than a decade of teaching obnoxious teenagers. “That’s good to know. Wish we had snacks in calculus.”

Taeyong feigned a look of disappointment. “You would get one headache and immediately say, ‘I need a nap.’”

You nodded in confirmation, grinning at that. “That does sound like me. Everybody was so surprised I said I was majoring in computer science as if I don’t do the same shit at my job. The second I get home, I drop like a rock.”

Taeyong gave you a pat on the shoulder. He knew about your job and from what you’d told him, it sounded both complicated and stressful. He would much rather keep to dancing. “Women in STEM,” he retorted.

You scoffed and shook your head. For sure, your work left much to be desired, but you had worked your ass off for it and it paid the bills. “Hey, I’m gonna go see if I can find Jaehyun,” you said, a sudden thought appearing in your mind. “Johnny went looking for him a while ago and I hope he doesn’t remember that I owe him five bucks now.”

Taeyong looked confused for all of seven seconds before he keeled over in laughter. “Oh my god. You made a bet that Victoria was never taking Johnny back, right?”

“Yes, and Jaehyun, being the dickrider that he is, just had to oppose me and stand up for his bestie,” you droned.

“If he hasn’t asked you about it now, he probably forgot,” Taeyong replied, smiling wryly.

That was wishful thinking and you both knew it, but it was true that Jaehyun hadn’t said a word to you about it, and you highly doubted he’d been oblivious to Johnny’s engagement like you were. “I hope so. See you in a bit.”

Taeyong waved you goodbye, shoving his hands in his pockets and continuing to read from the bulletin board.

Only when you set off on your journey did it occur to you that you had no idea whatsoever where to find Jaehyun, and the school was big as hell. You rooted in the middle of the hallway, thinking. You were still on the first floor, as was everyone else you’d met so far, which made it reasonable to assume that Jaehyun hadn’t made it too far either.

If I was Jeong Jaehyun, where would I hide, you thought to yourself, humming. Assuming he had shown up on his own will, unlike you, you expected him to be somewhere mingling with the bunch.

So imagine your surprise when you saw him standing at the trophy wall.

Jaehyun turned, having heard your footsteps, and smiled when he recognized you. “You came,” he said, pleasantly surprised.

You nodded, coming up beside him. Though you were sure to leave a little bit of distance between your bodies. “You sound shocked.”

“Can you blame me?” Jaehyun asked. You were expecting him to then go on about the very obvious reason everyone had for not expecting to see you, but he didn’t say anything.

Now it was your turn to be surprised. But you didn’t let it show, hiding it behind amusement. “Well, I guess not.”

Jaehyun chuckled and tilted his head. He was watching the wall in front of you both with a certain fondness in his eyes. And something vaguely nostalgic.

You followed his gaze. The trophy wall had everything you would expect a display case to have. There were numerous things dating back to the year the school was established, including a framed photo of the basketball team from the year you’d graduated. Johnny, who had been team captain at the time, was crouched down in the front with a ball in his hands. And Jaehyun was right beside him, as to be expected.

“You know, I never imagined you going from basketball to dance,” you mentioned, peering up at him. “Maybe I should have. The level of footwork required is crazy.”

Jaehyun snickered, his head bobbing as he giggled. “I guess you could say I graduated.”

Your lips twitched as you desperately tried not to laugh, but to no avail. “I knew you were gonna say something stupid. You get that look in your eye and start laughing.”

“You laughed too.”

“Yeah, but not because of what you said.”

“I still made you laugh. A win is a win.”

You exhaled dramatically, relenting. Then, you giggled again. Likely a thing to happen when you were in a high school with a handsome boy. “Yes, that’s true, I guess. You did make me laugh.”

Jaehyun beamed triumphantly. “You have a cute smile. You should laugh more. You’re always so serious.”

Your brows stitched, but you brushed it off. It was a harmless compliment. “Um, thanks,” you replied bashfully.

The floor squeaked. Though you could have sworn the sound came from behind you, there was no one there when you glanced over your shoulder. You ignored it, chalking it up to someone walking down the hallway.

“I heard the dance crew is going really well,” you continued, changing the topic. “Mark won’t shut up about practicing.”

“Weren’t you bossing us around the last time I saw you?” Jaehyun asked, crossing his arms.

You rolled your eyes and dramatically groaned, “For the love of God, I was not bossing you guys around. And even if I was, you kinda needed it.”

Jaehyun’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, “What would we do without your constructive criticism?”

“Die, probably,” you retorted. “Hey, did you know that Johnny is getting married? My bad. That’s a stupid question. Of course you know.”

Jaehyun was amused. “Yeah, I’ve known for a while. He wants me to be his best man.”

You shook your head in mock disappointment, asking, “Why am I not surprised?”

“Did you not get an invite?”

That question surprised you. You figured he would have known. You told him no and explained, “Johnny and I haven’t been keeping in touch. I honestly think today was my first time seeing him in, like, eight years? The last time I saw him was at Xiu’s send-off party.”

“Maybe you can be my plus one. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind having you,” Jaehyun suggested.

At first, you thought you were imagining things, but now you were fairly certain that you weren’t crazy. Was Jeong Jaehyun flirting with you?

That made you curious. All those times you had seen Jaehyun when visiting Mark at your parents’ house, and never once did it cross your mind to stop and ask if he was single. “You don’t already have a plus one?”

The implications of your question were obvious. Jaehyun shook his head and timidly confessed, “No. Dating has been pretty shaky for me, to be honest. And Mark told me you’re not seeing anybody. I didn’t ask, I swear.”

“Mark needs to get the hell out of my business,” you replied lightheartedly, clearly only half meaning it. “But he’s not wrong. Dating has been shaky for me too.”

“Maybe we can be shaky together,” Jaehyun said in his usual, slow and melodic voice. “And because I like you, I won’t hold you to that bet we made in school.”

You gaped, stunned. You obviously hadn’t been expecting that. So he did remember.

Jaehyun gave you a knowing smile and slithered away, most likely to find some hole in the ground to crawl inside. He wanted to leave before he potentially embarrassed himself in front of you.

Now you were interested. That was a turn you hadn’t seen coming, but it certainly had your attention. You and Jeong Jaehyun. You didn’t know why you hadn’t thought of that sooner. Jaehyun was the perfect storm of ideal attributes in a man. He was handsome, talented, just the right amount of weird, and very respectful. More or less everything you had ever wanted.

You could’ve gone on, but there was one more place you wanted to visit before it was time to reunite with the others. The single most well-funded location on the entire campus.

There was a weird sense of pride when you stepped onto the campus football field, which was ironic, because you had never been one to care too much about school sports. Much less the ones your friends weren’t participating in. The quality of the field may have been prioritized over the dark, unimaginable bathrooms, but at least it looked pretty.

Plus the team was full of admirably gifted players, at least when you were in school. So not only did the field make the school look good, but its champion teams did too.

You meandered over towards the back of the bleachers. There were more memories this field had to offer than just football games you’d been dragged to. You could see images of yourself hiding behind the bleachers, a particular boy in your arms.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, clad in black leather.

“We used to have a time here.”

You gasped and whipped around. Your stomach physically dropped when you locked eyes with the last person you wanted to see.

Haechan waved at you with a sly smile, not seeming even remotely remorseful for startling you. “Sorry. Was that too forward?”

You were tempted to roll your eyes, but resisted. “Since when have you ever cared about being too forward?”

“You make a very valid argument,” Haechan said, snickering.

Looking at his face, you felt a familiar knot return to your stomach and it only tightened when you met his eyes. You didn’t know why people called them butterflies. They’d always felt more like a flock of wild, vicious birds.

Not to mention he’d brought up what you used to do behind the bleachers. The mere thought damn near made you paralyze on the spot. Suddenly, you were remembering what it was like to sneak behind them for another tryst of stolen kisses and tender touches. Haechan had made you your most rebellious. There was never a dull moment with him. Everything he did was to feel alive and naturally you soaked in all that energy.

Johnny and Victoria, with all their differences, were the couple that no one had expected. Victoria was brilliant and thorough. She was the good girl. Johnny was impulsive and smart when he tried. He was always looking for mischief and fun. There was a certain uproar they’d received upon announcing their relationship that you and Haechan shockingly never had.

You and Haechan had your fair share of differences too, but in a way that complemented the other. Haechan, for all his recklessness, was intelligent and perceptive. He loved having meaningful conversations that required thought, and he loved having them at quick paces.

That never bothered you like it did with other people. You loved discovering and learning about other people’s opinions on all sorts of topics, even if you didn’t necessarily agree. You loved expanding your horizons and seeing the world. And Haechan never ran out of things, ideas, or places to show you.

It was frustrating that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the thoughts of what you’d had with him, and you were struggling not to show it. But you didn’t want to make things awkward, so you said, “You look good.”

Haechan flapped his leather jacket and replied, “Thanks. You look great yourself.”

You forced yourself to maintain your gaze. The sight of him used to make you smile. Now, it made your stomach ache. “How have you been doing?” you made yourself ask.

Haechan shrugged. “I’ve been pretty good. I just bought a new bike.”

You hummed. Haechan always did love motorbikes. In high school, he dreamed of one with a beautiful, black stain and a flair of red with insane, unrivaled speed. The fact that he said a new bike must’ve been he’d had one and then some. “Ah,” you replied, not surprised. “You still love those death machines.”

“I do,” Haechan said, even though you hadn’t phrased it like a question. “Probably even more now that I’ve owned a few. What about you? How have you been?”

Donning your most confident smile, you ignored the flutter in your gut and chirped, “Oh, I’m wonderful, you know. In all the ways that matter. I bought my first house last year and since I actually have a backyard now, I’ve been really into gardening and meditating.”

Haechan was impressed. “Wow. That is wonderful. I don’t think I’m ready to give up the whole apartment thing yet.”

You chuckled. That was very on brand of him. You used to joke that Haechan was allergic to being in the same place for too long and a complete adrenaline junkie. At some point, you were the only thing that managed to keep his attention for longer than a week.

“What’s funny?” he asked with a hint of confusion.

“Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head. There was still a faint smile on your face. “It just sounds like you.”

Haechan retorted, “Well, I hope so. I am me, after all. And I take great pride in living up to my name.”

“I bet you do.”

You had more to say, but no courage to say it. It was most likely going to be awkward or embarrassing. Maybe it was a good thing you faintly heard someone barreling through the doors to join you both outside.

Saved by the bell, Johnny came running towards you both at a speed you hadn’t seen in literal years. “You two need to go inside. There’s zombies everywhere,” he panted out.

You rolled your eyes. Everybody had said Johnny had grown up, and now he was talking about zombies. “Very funny, Johnny.”

Haechan snickered. You both clearly assumed he was joking, which was totally fair. For one, zombies were outrageous. But for two, Johnny had always loved to play silly tricks on his friends back in the day and you surmised that this was no different.

“I’m serious,” Johnny said in a voice more stern than you had ever heard from him before. It was extremely unlike him. “I know it sounds crazy, but they’re surrounding the school!”

You and Haechan glanced at each other, sharing the same doubtful expression. But the look on Johnny’s face was weirdly authentic.

In the middle of your telepathic exchange, you heard weird breathing coming from behind you and turned to see someone slowly but steadily climbing over the gate. They were stained almost head to toe in blood and there was a gnarly bruise on their face. And in that moment, you knew it wasn’t a lie.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, the air fleeing your lungs.

Johnny’s face darkened. “Let’s go. Right now.”

You didn’t even notice that you’d gone completely rigid. Haechan grabbed your hand and started pulling you along from the spot where you’d rooted in unwavering fear, dragging you back towards the school.

The thudding in your chest was violent. It gave the throbbing pulse you got around Haechan a run for its money. You didn’t even know how to react to this kind of situation, other than running for dear life. And even that practically had to be done on your behalf. There was no prior experience to compare it to for reference.

After what felt like an eternity of sprinting, the three of you locked yourselves inside the closest room with a door you could find, which happened to be the computer lab. The sole sound in the room was your collective panting, but the only thing you could hear was your pulse thudding in your ears.

Johnny grabbed one of two tables pressed against the wall and began to drag it across the floor, obviously about to block the door. Which was a very rational, very logical response, but it made you flare up with concern.

“Johnny, wait,” you said, eyes widening. “Mark. I don’t know if Mark is okay. The last time I saw him, he was with Xiu in the courtyard.”

Johnny paused, bracing his hands on the table, and glanced down as he tried to think. “It’s dangerous to go back out,” he warned.

You knew that, but it didn’t change anything. No matter how infuriating Mark could be, you couldn’t rest until you knew he was safe. “I don’t care. He’s my little brother. I have to make sure he’s alright.”

“Then, I’m going with you,” Haechan said in a tone that left no room for argument. His fingers were still intertwined with yours.

Johnny shook the hair out of his face. There was no doubt that he was against the idea, but he knew how important Mark was to you. “Fine. But you both need to be extremely careful. Okay?”

Haechan looked determined, brave. You didn’t know how he was keeping himself together while you were on the very verge of panic. “We’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Your eyes darted back to Johnny. You didn’t want to leave him here on his own, but you knew he was capable of taking care of himself. “Do you want us to find Victoria?”

Johnny shook his head. “No. I told her to hide in one of the classrooms while I looked for you guys. She’s safe.”

You blew out a breath of relief. That was one less person you had to worry about. Now you just had to see if the others had found some kind of shelter, especially your stepbrother. “Good. You should be careful too. We’ll text you if we find out something,” you said, reluctant.

“I’ll be okay. Go,” Johnny told you firmly.

Haechan didn’t need to be told twice. He gave Johnny a wordless nod and led you out of the lab, shutting the door behind you both as quietly as possible. There was no telling if the zombies had made their way inside yet, but you would much rather be safe than sorry.

Nothing about the hallways soothed your unease. They were alarmingly quiet and the only source of noise was the sound of your footsteps bouncing off the walls. The one thing providing you comfort was ironically Haechan’s hand gripping tightly onto yours, a gentle reminder of the fact that you weren’t alone.

“I wonder if he’s still in the courtyard,” you whispered. “He can’t be, right? They would have seen something by now.”

Haechan wanted to tell you something reassuring, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie. He said your name calmly. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

You frowned. You couldn’t stand the uncertainty around Mark’s safety. He may not have been your blood, but he was still family and the only sibling you had. If you lost him to something as insane as undead creatures, it would shatter you irreparably.

“Hey, we’re gonna find him,” Haechan told you softly, recognizing the look of dread on your face. “Don’t worry.”

“I really hope so,” you whispered.

In total, there was one positive to this bizarre situation and that was that you didn’t have time or space to worry about the rift between you and your old lover. The threat of potentially losing each other permanently forced you to stick together in ways unlike anything you’d ever experienced.

Literally. You were so close to Haechan, hand in hand with your side mere centimeters away from his hip, you couldn’t tell if it was the cause for your speeding heartbeat or the fear with its hand clasped tightly around your throat. Maybe it was both.

Either way, you were in panic mode and it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. You were the queen of overthinking, and at the moment, it was all you could do not to compulsively think about Mark. If he was okay, if he and Xiu had managed to isolate themselves, and whether or not he was even aware of the dangers lurking just around the corner.

You had so many questions. Many of them had to do with the mystery behind how there were even actual, legitimate zombies in the first place, but you knew no one around you would have answers. It was all completely insane, but you had seen the one climbing over the gate with your own eyes. It looked real and terrifying.

There was a sudden sound. You knew you hadn’t made it up in your head, because Haechan tugged at your arm to keep you in place, hiding you behind him.

“What is it?” you asked, trying to peek over his shoulders.

Haechan put a finger to his lip, effectively quieting you. Had it been any other day, you would have playfully gotten on him for shushing you, but absolutely nothing about today was typical.

The sound of footsteps caught your attention. You couldn’t see anything, but at the very least, you knew they were too fast to be zombies. It sounded like someone was scurrying down the halls as if they were being chased, which wasn’t an unreasonable assumption.

Not a second later, Mark turned down the hallway with his fingers wound protectively around Xiu’s hand. His eyes lifted in surprise. “Dude,” he said, obviously shaken up. “You guys will never believe what we just saw.”

You took a wild guess and asked, “Zombies?”

Mark gawked. “How did you know?”

“We saw them too,” Haechan answered for you. “Johnny says they’re surrounding the school. We need to get somewhere safe.”

“Where should we go?” Xiu asked, eyes dampening with unshed tears. She had always been sensitive to every emotion imaginable.

Haechan shrugged. “Anywhere is better than the middle of the hallway right now.”

Mark scratched his head. “Well, the closest place I can think of is the gym. We can at least head there to make a plan.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath to stabilize yourself. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s not a bad idea. Let’s do it.”

No one argued. The four of you were quick to beetle down the halls in the direction of the school’s gym as if you were being hunted like prey. But the fact that there were more than two of you provided some easy reassurance.

You were remembering how long the hallways were and exactly why they gave you eight minutes to travel from class to class, though even that didn’t feel like enough at times. Granted, you used to spend half that time kissing and making out, but that was only natural. You were grateful there weren’t thousands of students to shove past at the moment.

There were a few times where you’d almost tripped over your own legs with how quickly you were sprinting, and when you finally rounded the corner to the gym, the four of you hurried inside, checking for even the smallest indication of undead interference. It didn’t seem like they had made their way inside yet. Still, you knew it was only a matter of time before they did, so you texted Johnny and the others your whereabouts.

The hope was that everyone would be able to meet up safely at one place, in one piece. Your best bet at survival would be to stick together, rather than individually trying to take all of those monsters on your own. You tried to call the police with that same logic, but no calls would connect.

More importantly, you hadn’t heard from Taeyong or Jaehyun since you’d briefly spoken to them in the hallway, and that thought made you more than a little anxious. Their chances of survival were decent as long as they hadn’t gone to the courtyard or something, but at the same time, being indoors meant you had to assume they didn’t know about the danger on the horizon.

“Guys, I can’t wrap my head around this,” you said out loud, sitting next to Haechan on the bleachers. He scooted over, finally giving you some room to breathe. “Zombies?”

“Man, it looked real,” Mark said, shaking his head in disbelief.

That was the problem. It looked real, but there was no logical explanation behind why it was even possible. “No, that’s what I thought too, but it still doesn’t make sense. Are we sure we’re not being pranked?”

Haechan shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a prank. I saw that thing. It wasn’t human. It was like an animal.”

Silence draped over the gym like a gloomy, giant thundercloud. “I’m scared,” Xiu confessed after a beat.

Mark threw his arms over Xiu and held her tightly in his embrace. “We’ll be okay, Xiu. The others will get here soon and we’ll all make a plan to get the hell out of here.”

Right on time, Johnny came in with Victoria in tow. You hadn’t seen her until now and she looked absolutely horrified. Their hands were gripping onto each other so tightly you would think they had seen a ghost.

And even ghosts somehow seemed better than dead men walking.

The first thing Johnny did after sitting Victoria down was take a headcount, and he looked very displeased with the number he’d calculated. “Where’s Jaehyun and Taeyong?”

“We don’t know,” Mark replied, shuddering with cold dread. “We texted everyone, but I don’t think they’ve responded.”

You double, even triple-checked your phone, hoping to see some kind of confirmation that they were doing okay, but there was nothing new. “It’s radio silence. There’s no telling if they even know what’s going on.”

Johnny mumbled something under his breath you couldn’t hear with the sheer amount of distance between you, but you didn’t need to in order to tell that he was thinking precisely the same thing you were. There were what you could only think of as real life monsters surrounding the school, two of your friends were unaccounted for, and you had no feasible way out.

“Sitting here doesn’t feel right,” Mark said, brows stitched. He was obviously deep in thought. “I think we should go look for them.”

Johnny was quick to shoot him down. “No, it’s too dangerous. There’s no way of telling if we’ll make it back.”

“And what about them?” Mark asked, ever altruistic.

Johnny countered, “What good will it do if we all die trying to be heroes?”

That was a fair point and Mark knew it. You didn’t all have to potentially die. He was silent and sulky for a minute, tearing his eyes away. “I still don’t like it,” he grumbled.

Haechan spoke up. “Think about it, Mark. We don’t know where they are. We have no means of self-defense. What are you gonna do if something pops up behind you? Scream for dear life?”

“He’s right, Mark. We can’t go,” Xiu said, trying to persuade him from committing to something he would never be able to undo.

Mark tensed with frustration. “Then, what do you guys suggest? Staying here forever?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea either,” Haechan replied, glancing at the two entrances. “If those things break in, they have two options to enter through and we’d be trapped.”

Johnny didn’t waver. “Well, we just won’t let them break in.”

Haechan scoffed. “With what tools?”

Mark stood up like lightning, as if to say that he rested his case. “Exactly. We’re gonna need to go back out one way or another.”

Exasperated with the back and forth, you chimed in, “Maybe that’s true, but we definitely are safest here. There’s room for all of us and a water fountain, plus this is the only spot with an easily accessible bathroom.”

Mark nodded along and added, “Yeah, and we obviously can’t stay here forever, but we’re gonna be here a while if we can’t get in contact with the cops. We gotta make this place extra secure so that it’ll hold us longer.”

No one could deny the truth of that either, because the reality of the situation was that no place was inherently safe. You had to condition it. Disgruntled, Johnny reluctantly agreed, “That’s true. We don’t know how long we’re gonna be here, so we need supplies.”

You heard the doors being drawn open followed by rapid footsteps and the dialogue in the room came to a grinding halt as you each waited with bated breath to see who was coming from around the corner.

A collective breath of relief wafted through the gym when Taeyong and Jaehyun walked through the left entrance.

“Thank god,” Johnny said, immediately coming to a stand and draping his arms around his best friends.

When he was free again, Taeyong released a breath and looked amongst the gym much like Johnny had, content with the number of less than happy faces he saw. “We got your text, but it was a little too late when I saw it. We had to hide out for a bit in one of the classrooms but a lot of them are locked, so it was a mess.”

You frowned. So, the monsters had made their way inside. You were royally fucked.

“Hey, what matters is that you’re here,” Johnny replied, giving Taeyong a pat on the back. “We decided that we’re gonna go back out. The gym is good, but there’s room for improvement.”

Jaehyun’s brows furrowed. “We’re going somewhere else?”

Johnny explained that you guys had gone back and forth about the next best course of action, and ultimately came to the conclusion that you had to strengthen your hideout. “We’re gonna be here a while. We need to make this place a little more sustainable.”

You got to your feet, mentally preparing yourself to potentially encounter one of those nightmarish creatures. “Yes. We need food for when we get hungry, first aid for if we get injured, and some kind of weapon to defend ourselves for obvious reasons,” you told them reasonably.

Haechan was still sitting at the bleachers, deciding not to give chase, but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear him. “I think we break into pairs,” he urged, seeming fully prepared to support his recommendation if necessary. “Safety in numbers.”

But no one argued. It was obviously smarter than traveling individually, and would allow you to hit more places quicker than if you moved as one whole group. “Jaehyun and I can go to the infirmary and see if there’s a first aid kid lying around,” Taeyong volunteered.

Jaehyun nodded in acceptance. “We can do that, but where would we get food?”

“There’s snacks in Dr. Nam’s classroom. It’s unlocked,” Taeyong replied. His knowledge was coming in handy. “It’s not much, but it’s better than a headache. I’m sure she’s got granola bars.”

“We can take care of that,” Mark replied, rubbing circles on Xiu’s back. “Sounds easy enough. I just don’t know what kind of weapons we can get our hands on. I mean, there’s hand sanitizer?”

You gaped, suddenly thinking of something. “Oh my god. Principal Myeong. Do you think his shotgun is still in his office?”

Johnny shrugged. “There’s no harm in finding out.”

“I’ll go with you,” Haechan said, finally rising from the bleachers.

You swallowed, but you didn’t turn him down. It wasn’t like you were going to ask Johnny or Victoria to come with you instead when they obviously wanted to be together. “Okay.”

Johnny stretched his arms over his head, and as if to confirm your suspicions, he said, “Then, I guess Vicky and I will stay and check if there’s any blind spots.”

You nodded. It was settled. You were going to be traveling with Haechan to hopefully locate a shotgun, and you prayed you didn’t make things awkward in the process. Entire lives were dependent upon this treasure hunt.

Haechan gingerly grabbed your arm and led you out of the gym with slow, cautious steps, neither of which you argued against. He was falling back into that familiar pattern of the way things used to be. “Let’s go before we meet any unwelcome visitors,” was all he said.

Maybe you were falling back too. It was easier now you were terrified half to death and in abundant need of emotional support, because it was perfectly reasonable that you were clinging onto his body for dear life. And if anybody asked, your excuse would be that you just needed a companion.

The front office was very far away, on the total opposite end of the school, which meant that there was ample time to hash out the obvious elephant in the room, the unspoken fracture in your relationship. Something you had no plans to do, but Haechan wasn’t on the same page. He had only let you go by force, not by will.

Haechan lasted a whole five minutes and half before he couldn’t help himself from saying, “I feel like we have something to talk about.”

You peered up at him, briefly giving the hallway a break from your scoping to meet his eyes which were already locked on you. Your heart flipped. “Something like the fact that we all might die?”

Haechan almost rolled his eyes. He could tell you were actually worried, but he could also tell that this monster outbreak was convenient for you. It lent you the perfect opportunity to deflect your feelings, which you had always been exceptional at doing. With everyone except him, of course. “Is that your final guess?”

You didn’t need to guess. You already knew, you just didn’t want to talk about it. “I don’t think right now is a good time.”

“Now or never, beautiful,” he flirted, persistent.

You would think he would behave as if he had more situational awareness, all things considered. But Haechan would always be unapologetically himself, even if the world was ending. That was what you had loved about him to a fault. “What is there to talk about? It’s been years.”

“Exactly,” Haechan said, like that was his very point. “I miss you.”

Your eyes widened a little more than they should have. Haechan had always been adamant and shameless. “I miss you too,” you confessed with some reluctance.

Haechan raised a brow, delighted. He hadn’t been expecting you to say that and it only encouraged him to see what else he could push you into admitting. And he was very much unafraid of riling you up solely to pull it off. “How can you miss me when you left me?” he asked, feigning annoyance.

Like he expected, you immediately bristled. You had spoken to him in depth about the rationale behind your departure, the damaged relationship with your parents and how you wanted to take control of your own life. He knew exactly why you’d skipped town. “Are you serious?”

Haechan kept going, “I loved you so much, and you just left me and everything we could have had together. Everything we should have had.”

You had never been one to raise your voice, so it was ironic that in the one situation where you suddenly became overwhelmed by the urge, it would have been the stupidest mistake you could’ve made at the moment. “You know why I left,” you replied, willing yourself to remain calm. “You told me you understood.”

Haechan shrugged. “I do understand. That doesn’t change how I feel.”

That only made you angrier and you asked, “What did you want me to do? Stay here for you at my own expense? Knowing I was miserable here?”

“We could have figured something out,” Haechan replied, although even he didn’t believe that. Not anymore, at least. When he was younger, he used to be bitter and think about ways to keep you together. Now it sounded like a fairytale.

You shook your head. “I never wanted to leave you, you know that. You were never the problem. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about you and wonder how you’re doing. So don’t act like I ran away on our wedding day or something.”

Haechan softened, almost dropping the act. Hearing that made thunder shoot through his heart. You still thought about him and pictured his face, the same way he still pictured yours? “You still think about me?”

You wondered if you’d been too honest. Seeing the remorseful look in his eyes, you were starting to piece together that he was deliberately provoking you to get the reaction he was looking for, and you chastised yourself for falling into his trap. “You’re fucking with me.”

With nothing to say in his defense, Haechan merely grinned. “It took you this long to notice? I’m unimpressed. And severely disappointed.”

You suppressed a sound of annoyance, even though you were relieved. He was still making you think about things you’d rather not think about and feel things you’d rather not feel. Those old emotions were coming back up. Buried, but uncovered. They were never dead, they just didn’t have anything to trigger them until now.

The thing about your breakup with Haechan was that it was a completely mutual, amicable decision. There was never any animosity. Maybe it would be easier to let him go if you’d hated him, but Haechan had done nothing but be both an amazing boyfriend and your best friend. Things just didn’t work out.

At the end of the day, you chose to put yourself first. And it was the best thing you could have ever done for yourself and for your happiness, but you were never not thinking about who else it affected. “You could have just asked me how I feel,” you murmured.

“Would you have told me?” Haechan asked, a knowing look on his face.

You were silent for a long while, which made the answer a dead giveaway. “That’s not fair.”

“When have you ever known me to play fair? I gotta make sure I always win somehow,” Haechan said, deliberately bumping into you ever so gently to make you sway.

You stumbled a little, but Haechan was quick to help you steady yourself. He hadn’t forgotten about the monsters roaming the school, supposedly inside now even though you’d both yet to see or hear any. You sighed and said, “Yeah, nothing about you is fair.”

It wasn’t fair. That he was so goddamn handsome, even more than he had been a whole decade ago, with those same kissable lips that had gotten you in trouble more times than you could count. That every second you weren’t here was another second he probably had his tongue down another girl’s throat. And that life had forced you into a cold compromise.

Haechan didn’t know if you could tell whether he’d been serious or not, but for some reason, he felt the need to clarify. “Hey, for the record, I wasn’t lying when I said I miss you. I really do. You were my first love.” And my last too.

“And you were mine,” you replied, a vague but all too familiar feeling slowly festering in your stomach as you locked eyes with him. The dangerous recklessness you got whenever he was in arm’s reach.

What Haechan didn’t know was that he was the one who had given you the courage to leave. You had been the girl with a major stick up her ass before you met him. He was quick and witty and impulsive. He had shown you that you could be more than what your parents envisioned for you and you didn’t have to be afraid of breaking the mold.

Haechan was strategically stopping you both at every corner, making sure to check the next hall before you ventured that direction. He used this opportunity to pull you flush against him, his hand brushing against your forearm so faintly it almost tickled. “I do still think about what could have been,” he admitted quietly. “But I know that’s not what you needed.”

It was a bitter pill to swallow for the both of you, but there was no denying that it was true. You couldn’t go straight to getting married and having kids with him, even if you loved him. You would have been trapped in a marriage that defined you, with no way of knowing who you really were or what you were really capable of. “Johnny told me you’re single,” you told him, faint.

Haechan nodded, watching the way your hands clasped onto his leather. There was a whole whirlwind of memories blurring through his mind. “Yeah. I’m not built for a romantic life. I’m hard and fast.”

You could have laughed, but you were being mindful of your noise levels. Haechan reminded you of the metropolis - always on the grind, always in motion. He would have loved the city you’d moved to. “If I remember correctly, you’re bold, loyal and passionate. All good things. What’s stopping you from being like Johnny?”

“I never found another you,” Haechan whispered.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. Your breath was out the window entirely. So many years had gone by, but he was still irrevocably stuck on you. “You want another one of me?”

“Don’t be crazy,” Haechan said, shaking his hand. “I want you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. And I decided a long time ago that if I can’t have you, then I’ll die by myself.”

He sounded so sure, so resolved. Like he had completely eliminated all other options. No matter how hard he tried, he would never find someone who measured up to the standard you had set for him. You swallowed the lump in your throat, reaching for his hand, and replied, “You’re not dying alone.”

Haechan lifted a brow. Your left hand was already intertwined with his right hand, so to be holding both of his hands might have seemed like overkill, but it made his heart race with a breed of thrill that he’d been convinced was long gone.

After passing by a few more hallways and miraculously staying clear of any zombies, you finally reached the front office. Haechan opened the double doors and held them for you while you walked inside.

The office was completely empty. No one was there, although that didn’t necessarily come as a shock. Your first thought was to try using the phone to get in contact with the outside world, but that didn’t work either. You exhaled deeply, frustrated.

Haechan put a comforting hand on your back and led you to the principal’s office. “Let’s see what he’s got in here.”

You glanced around. The two of you had been here, together, more than once. You were lovebirds and the teachers hated to see it. They also had hated to see you fucking in the locker room, which you had gotten mandatory lunch detention for a week because of. Then, it got extended to two weeks, because you wouldn’t stop passing notes behind the teacher’s back.

The memory made your breath hitch. It was all you could do not to sweat on the spot like a total idiot. You never knew who you were when you were with Haechan, but you liked her.

“You gotta be quiet, baby,” Haechan told you, whispering in your ear. His hands were secure on your waist, supporting you as you sat on his thighs.

The boys’ locker room was void of life, save for the two of you stacked on one of the brand new benches. With how hard you were riding him, Haechan felt like you were stealing his soul and giving him life all at the same time. You were his God and he had every intention of worshiping you like the beautiful deity you were.

You clammed your hands on his shoulders to anchor yourself, knowing you would sink into an endless reservoir of him otherwise. “I’m trying,” you whined.

“Try harder,” Haechan said, despite knowing damn well that you were doing your absolute best not to make any noise. It was hard; the way he filled you turned you into a lawless animal.

In retaliation, you yanked his hair, drawing a loud whine out of him. He hadn’t expected that, but he wasn’t complaining. He was your beautiful boy with a very advanced pain kink. You slowly rode to the tip of his dick, tugging his head back by his dark strands, and locked eyes with him for a long while.

Haechan breathlessly met your gaze. The eye contact was intense. It was like you were staring into each other’s souls, searching for fire and being burned by its passion. Then, you tightened your grip on his messy black hair and pulled him for an even messier kiss.

It was out of control. There was no rhythm, no rhyme. If anybody was watching, they would have assumed you were two hopeless virgins that didn’t know what to do with each other. Your lips met in a wild clash of teeth and tongues, drinking in one another like you were starving.

Haechan was a wreck. The things you did to him were unspeakable. Your body was his favorite addiction and fucking you in a locker room that neither of you had any business inside of (he never played sports) was arguably an incredible source of adrenaline. Kissing you always made his heart throb with a mind of its own.

As if the pleasure wasn’t already soaring high, you slammed back down on his cock in the middle of the kiss, and Haechan moaned into your mouth. He broke away, arms tightening around your waist. “Fuck.”

You giggled, having expected that reaction. You knew what he liked, and you knew what he loved. “What was that about being quiet?”

Haechan tipped his head back. You were making him insane with lust, with need. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I think I’m riding you crazy,” you purred, continuing to roll your hips. You wanted to see him unravel, to see him break, even if you already knew what that sight looked like. You were picturing it in your head. His flushed face, his parted lips, and his whiny moans.

“Fuck,” Haechan repeated, unable to conjure up any other words in his mind that would adequately convey the feelings you gave him.

You chuckled, because you knew exactly what he was going through and it made you very satisfied with yourself. You could feel it too. The ecstasy hammering through you in waves of warmth, submerging you beneath its surface. It was a potent drug of its own lethality, but that never stopped you from getting too close to the edge.

The point of no return. You had crossed it the second Haechan tempted you into becoming this wanton version of yourself. A girl who had tasted pleasure and was now on a perpetual journey to feel that good again. You never wanted to stop. You couldn’t stop.

“You feel so good,” you whispered, steadying yourself with his shoulders again. You knew you had been impatient, knew this could have waited until after school, but he made you crave him to an extent that you had never craved anything before.

Haechan swallowed, fighting for breath. The way your voice sounded when you were nearing the brink of climax would be the death of him. He moved his hand underneath your skirt, steering them to your ass where he knew you liked being touched. Your mouth opened, a few soft pants escaping.

You were nothing short of ravenous as you rode him with enough vigor to bend heaven and earth to your will. This was the taking, the conquering. Haechan belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him. The animal inside you was slowly but surely losing the battle against the woman.

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m coming,” Haechan whispered, his face tensing as he wrestled with his impending orgasm. You could tell he was trying to fight it, not wanting to come just yet, but it was too late. His fate was sealed.

You didn’t slow down like some people would think to do. You went faster. Haechan cursed underneath his breath, mumbling something about how you must have been trying to kill him, and surrendered to your body. If this was how he died, with you on top of him making his dick feel things he never knew were possible, then so be it.

The entire locker room was filled with your shared sounds. His moans and yours and the wet squelch of your bodies meeting. It was almost suffocating. With how hot and stuffy the air seemed, you would have thought one of the showers were running.

Haechan couldn’t take it anymore and he shuddered with climax, overcome by how ruthlessly you were riding him. His nails dug into your hips with more force than he intended, but you didn’t mind the pain. If anything, the sting only encouraged you. You soaked in the way he cried out your name and felt your own body approaching the brink.

“Good boy,” you whispered in his ear, not stopping. You weren’t done with him yet.

Haechan felt his mouth run dry. You were completely in control right now, completely in charge of his body, mind and soul. You fucking owned him and he wasn’t ashamed to shout it from the rooftops. No one would ever come close to satisfying him the way you did.

Your hips moved faster as you endeavor to finish yourself, using his cock to get yourself off. Which, to Haechan, was the hottest thing ever. He didn’t mind being at your disposal one bit, especially if it meant he got to watch in awe as you drove yourself to the end.

And his cock could stay hard for almost just as long as you needed it to. There was something about you that he never got tired of. The body never lied, and his was obsessed with your entire existence.

You finally reached your climax, your mouth hanging wide open while you came with soft gasps. Your hands were tightly braced onto Haechan’s shoulders as the heat wrecked through you from head to toe. It was a powerful orgasm and you enjoyed every second of it. Haechan did too. You throbbed around his dick and made that pretty fucking face he couldn’t get enough of.

Haechan was still trying to collect his breath when you stilled against him. He laced his arms around your back, pulling you close. “My god. That was crazy.”

You nodded in agreement, resting your head on his shoulder in place of your hands and moving them to his chest. “And you said I couldn’t be a dom.”

Haechan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, calling me ‘good boy’ doesn’t make you a dom, beautiful.”

“You seemed to really like it though,” you quipped, never skipping out on the opportunity to tease him.

“You could piss in my coffee and I would like it.”

You grimaced, climbing off of him. “Way to ruin the mood, babe.”

Haechan laughed. He grabbed you, pulling you flush against him, and smashed his lips against yours.

You smiled into the kiss.

That was one of many times you’d had sex together in that room, and fortunately the only one you’d gotten caught doing it. You remembered how heavenly it felt to be tangled in his arms, to be closer than close and as threaded together as you were physically allowed.

Haechan had meant everything to you. That man shook your world. He showed you how to reject expectations and to unabashedly live in your truth. He taught you how to be bold, how to be brave, and how to stand up for yourself. And he had loved you the way you deserved to be loved, without conditions. He loved you just because you were you.

It had got you thinking. If there was more to life than your grapple with control and festering resentment for your emotionally unavailable mother and emotionally unstable father, if someone could love you without you having to stretch yourself thin to meet some golden standard, then there had to be another route you could take other than the one you’d resigned yourself to so long ago.

So you made the decision to leave. And sometimes you looked back, but you never regretted it. You did what was in your best interest and you were a happier person now that you lived somewhere where your parents couldn’t steal your whole life away.

“Earth to my beautiful queen,” Haechan said, waving his hand in front of your face.

You blinked in surprise and stepped back. When the hell did he get in front of you? “Sorry. I spaced out.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Haechan replied, chuckling. “What were you thinking about?”

Your face burned. Like hell you were going to tell him that you had been reminiscing about the time you rode him halfway to hell in the fucking locker room. “Nothing. I just went somewhere else for a minute.”

Haechan smirked, but if he had any inkling about where your mind had wandered, he didn’t say a word about it. “Well, I need you here. I think Principal Myeong’s gun is in that safe, but it has a code.”

You glanced over to the safe he’d pointed to. It was definitely big enough to harbor a shotgun, which you doubted was even legal for him to have on campus, but you weren’t necessarily eager to get into that at the moment. “If I was Principal Myeong, what would be my safe code?”

Haechan shrugged, thinking about it. “His mom’s birthday?”

Your eyes narrowed. “How in the hell would we figure that out?”

Again, Haechan shrugged his shoulders. He was just spitting things out. “How the hell should I know? Look in his calendar.”

“He has to hate his mother if he doesn’t remember her birthday,” you grumbled, shaking your head. You were also convinced that with his age, she was probably dead. But to your surprise, his mother’s birthday was marked in his calendar.

When Haechan entered the number, however, the safe didn’t unlock.

He groaned. “Damn. Maybe he’s a Daddy’s boy.”

You snickered and stepped away from the calendar on the wall to join him beside the safe. “Come on. If you were Principal Myeong, what would your safe code be?”

Haechan tried to think. He was pondering hard, judging from the look on his face. “I have no idea. Probably the address of Mrs. Kim’s husband.”

You giggled. There had been rumors, back in the day, that your former biology teacher was sleeping with the principal. After that, there were even more rumors that she and her husband had separated. “Try her birthday. I remember it, because she wouldn’t shut up about a birthday trip to the Bahamas. November twelfth.”

Haechan didn’t look too convinced, but he entered the numbers anyway, looking bored as all hell.

The look on his face when it actually clicked open was priceless.

“Oh my god,” he gasped. “You’re a genius.”

Your eyes widened. You hadn’t been expecting it to actually work. “Um, I feel like I know too much information now.”

Haechan laughed and did the honor of retrieving the shotgun from the safe, which, for some reason, he knew how to check for ammunition. “She’s loaded,” he said casually.

You raised a brow. “Why do you know how to do that?”

“I saw someone do it on a show,” Haechan replied offhandedly. “It’s not that hard.”

“Oh, brother,” you groaned. This weapon was not in good hands.

Haechan chuckled at your obvious doubt. “Don’t worry. No one will get hurt who doesn’t need to.”

You didn’t know if you should have believed him, but you hoped that you could. There was no way in hell you were going to take it off his hands. The idea of carrying any kind of weapon capable of discharging a lethal projectile was thoroughly unappealing to someone like you.

With few other options, you exhaled through your nose and replied, “Fine, but if someone does get hurt because of this, I reject all accountability.”

“Fine by me,” Haechan chirped, sounding so confident in himself. “Let’s go, beautiful. We had a smooth trip here, so I’m hoping for one back.”

Only five minutes later, you saw Jaehyun and Taeyong running down the hallway like they were being chased by a killer with a chainsaw.

“What the hell?” you whispered under your breath.

Taeyong saw you both first and he started gesturing down the hall with his free hand, the other clasping tightly onto a first aid kit. “Move. Move. Move!”

You didn’t remember zombies being particularly quick if the movies checked out, so for them to be in such a hurry, you had to assume there were many of them in close proximity. That was enough to make you snatch Haechan’s hand and start sprinting down the hallway like you had everything to lose.

“How many?” Haechan asked as the two of you started running more or less beside the others.

“Way too goddamn many to count,” Jaehyun said through labored pants. He looked damn near out of breath, but if needed, he would run until his legs gave out.

That was some of the worst news you could have received at the moment. The gym was on the totally opposite side of the school and running there from where you were would exhaust you thoroughly. To say nothing of the fact that there was no telling where else they were located on this floor. There could have been more ahead.

“Haechan,” you called out. “Can you shoot any of them?”

Haechan glanced back for a split second. He could see a crowd of zombies distantly making their way around the corner, but they were far enough that you could lose them if you kept moving. “I could, but I don’t think that’s necessary if we can make it back to the gym first. We don’t need to waste bullets.”

He made a decent point. With how many monsters were currently in the building right now and how many you didn’t even know were around in total, it would be in your best interest to keep yourselves safe and capable of fighting back. “That’s fair.”

You stayed close to Haechan as you ran. That belligerent hammering had returned to your chest, only this time you could hear it thumping against your ears too. It was like playing a scary game with a threatening, demonic soundtrack reverberating in the back, only this was real life.

When you least expected it, another pack of zombies emerged from the hallway on your left and you had to do an abrupt zigzag to stay out of arm’s reach. You managed to steer away at the last second, but Jaehyun wasn’t so fortunate. Three zombies got a hold of him and one bit him on his shoulder.

You gawked in unadulterated horror as Jaehyun let out a blood-curdling scream, sinking onto his knees. “Jae,” you cried, letting go of Haechan’s hand and rushing to pull him back.

Jaehyun grappled your leg and scraped his nails over your exposed calf, making you holler out in pain, and you jolted back as he bore his teeth like he was preparing to sink them into you.

Taeyong pulled you away while Haechan started opening fire on anyone that dared go near you, thankfully sparing Jaehyun. The wounded monsters slowed, but they didn’t stop chasing. It gave you just enough advantage to outrun them all. The second you were a safe distance apart, the boys started dragging you away.

It was even harder to run with the bloody scratch on your leg, but you gave it all you had to offer, mustering the strength to push forward. You could barely think. You just knew you had to keep going and you couldn’t stop until you were somewhere safe.

The closest possible place on the first floor was the library and the three of you barreled inside like you had a flight to catch that was about to leave with you, bursting through the doors without a second thought. You knelt on the floor and watched as the boys started to barricade the door off with anything they could find.

As soon as they were pleased with the numbers of book-heavy carts shoved in front of the door, Taeyong rushed to your side with the first aid kid, opening it immediately. “Are you okay? How bad does it hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you replied, obviously still shaken up. Your mind was still struggling to process and accept what had happened. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“You could have gotten bit,” Haechan said, filling in the blanks. He sounded angry. “Why would you do that?”

Your eyes flickered in surprise. “Jaehyun’s our friend. I wanted to help him, just like you guys helped me. How was I supposed to know he was going to try and bite me?”

Haechan tempered, realizing he was being too harsh. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I just don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

You cursed as Taeyong started to clean the wound. It was shocking for a scratch caused by human nails, but nothing that you would have to worry about long term. None of which stopped it from stinging like a bitch.

Taeyong draped your leg over his knee so that he could access it better, all the while Haechan hovered over you both with a worried look. “Is it deep?” the latter asked.

“Like she said, it could have been a hell of a lot worse,” Taeyong replied, attentively tending to your injury. His face softened every time he heard you hiss. “She’ll be okay. It’s not that bad.”

Haechan sighed in relief. He hated the thought of anything going bad with you. One wrong move or late reaction and you would have been as good as dead.

After a few minutes, Taeyong put a bandaid on your scrape and said that you were as good as new, closing the kit back. You all waited a few minutes to gauge whether or not the coast was clear, quickly and meticulously making your way back to the gym before there could be any encores.

The three of you released a collective breath of relief when you stepped inside, immediately catching the attention of Johnny and Victoria.

Ever attentive, the former was quick to notice the bandaid on your leg, which most definitely hadn’t been there before, and asked, “Damn, already? What happened to her?”

You shook your head, not wanting to think about it. “I’m fine,” was the only thing you could bring yourself to say. All that you had left to recover from was the fresh wound of what you’d just lost.

Johnny was confused by your curt answer. He immediately sensed that something wasn’t right and glanced between the three of you. “What did you say it like that for? And where’s Jaehyun?”

No one said anything. You looked at the ground. Taeyong swallowed the lump in his throat. How did you tell someone that their best friend since childhood was bitten and taken by undead monsters?

The only one with enough courage to tell him the truth, Haechan spoke up, “He’s gone, Johnny.”

Johnny’s face went grim. His lips parted, but Victoria beat him to a word, exclaiming, “What do you mean he’s gone?”

Haechan ran a hand through his messy hair, taking a deep breath, and explained, “He got bit. They blindsided us. There was nothing we could do.”

“You left him?” Johnny asked incredulously.

“There was nothing we could do,” Haechan replied again, firmer.

Johnny tensed in a blend of anger and frustration and heartache. Victoria took him into her arms and that was the last thing you saw before you tore your eyes away and went to sit on the bleachers again. You couldn’t bear to watch him suffer through the same grief wrecking through your body like an infectious virus.

If not worse. You knew what Jaehyun meant to Johnny. You all did. They were brothers, blood be damned. You knew that if you lost your brother you would never be the same, and that thought had you actively fearing for Mark’s life. Every second he wasn’t here was another second he could be dead or infected.

It was all you could do not to pace around the gym like a mad woman with way too much caffeine in her system. You were worried sick, giving it your all not to assume the worst, but it was much easier said than done. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the worst had yet to come.

Haechan was standing in the corner with a blank look on his face, most likely trying to process the trauma of watching his friend get dragged away by monsters. You wondered if you should talk to him. It would be a good way to take both your minds off the dark side of today.

Who else would you talk to anyway? Johnny looked half a second away from falling apart. Victoria was selflessly trying to console him in the midst of her own despair. Taeyong looked like he was struggling with guilt and didn’t want to be bothered.

The only one you figured could alleviate the persistent thoughts racing through your head at a thousand miles per hour was Haechan. He had been good at it in the past, making everything seem okay in the face of adversity even though that with every second spent apart, you had thought your world was crumbling.

You had to stay on top of what you could control, because those were the only things you had right now. The tension was tight as hell and you were overwhelmingly aware of the odds here. You guys had phones, but no signal. No way to contact people and alert them that you were in danger. And attempting to evacuate the school would be too risky.

You had no idea what was out there waiting for you, nor did you have any desire to find out. The sneak peek in the hallway with Jaehyun was more than enough.

Finally, you mustered the courage to approach him, hoping you wouldn’t regret it immediately after, and announced, “I have a question.”

Haechan lifted a brow, expectant. “Hit me.”

“Do you still stay hard after you come?”

Haechan’s eyes went wide with shock at your question for all of two seconds before he burst into laughter. “Jesus, woman,” he replied, taken aback. “What kind of question is that?”

You shrugged. The sound of his laugh was still melodious, like a heaven choir. “I was just wondering.”

“I see,” Haechan said with amusement, bobbing his head. “And to answer your question, I only stayed hard for you because you really turned me on.”

You blinked. Well, that was certainly an answer. “Oh. Wow.”

Haechan didn’t seem to think it was all that surprising. “Yeah. Wow, right?”

You laughed, glancing away. It was ironic that you had been the one to ask him such a bold question and now you were getting shy.

Haechan observed your body language. He could see that you had gotten flustered, but that wasn’t what stood out to him. You looked startled, tense. And you had every right to be. “I’d ask you if you were okay, but I can tell that you’re not,” he said softly.

You smiled thinly. It was all you could muster at the moment, all things considered. “I used to think that running away from home and leaving behind everything I knew, everyone I loved, would be the scariest thing I ever did. But this? This is some spooky shit.”

“I thought losing you forever would be the scariest thing for me,” Haechan whispered. “And I still do.”

Everything about that confession broke your heart. You had never wanted to make him feel like that. Haechan could never lose you, not when it was the picture of his face and the memory of his love that used to get you through every day. You sighed. “Why did we stop being together?”

Haechan almost chuckled. He didn’t know if you were seriously asking, but he decided to humor you. “We wanted different things out of life. You wanted to go find yourself in the big city and I never got bored of home.”

You snorted. “How ironic.”

Haechan nodded in agreement. After all, this city wasn’t particularly small, but it wasn’t as big as your new one either. You just wanted a change of pace. And Haechan, for all his hatred of routine, had struggled to accept that. “I think I still love you. Because when I saw your face for the first time today, it gave me hope. And now that we’re standing here, not knowing what’s next, all I feel is dread.”

You could feel that dread too. It wrapped its calloused hand around your throat and asphyxiated you. “Do you remember the night before I left?”

Haechan nodded, face tensing with something wistful. “I don’t think I can ever forget it. And trust me, I’ve tried.”

You remembered it too. It was the last night you ever saw Haechan face to face. You were twenty years old, moving out of the house you had spent every single last one those years trapped inside of, and about to kiss goodbye the single best relationship you’d ever had. And the first one that had really meant something special.

Haechan’s room was dark, but you could see enough thanks to the moonlight penetrating through his window with the curtains drawn open. You had been staying in his house for the past week and making love every day while his parents weren’t home.

Even then, he was on top of you, rocking into you with languid thrusts. It wasn’t really his style, but it was also the nth round of many and you were both tired. Though he couldn’t get enough of your body and he didn’t want to be apart from you knowing that not a moment of your relationship wouldn’t matter the second you boarded your flight in the morning.

So this one had to count for something.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whispered. You thought you would be saying that a lot lately, but the reality was that you had held your tongue for the past week, desperate to ignore the finality in every action you took.

Haechan had been hoping you wouldn’t. It wasn’t that he wasn’t going to miss you - he was going to be sick to his stomach without you, but he didn’t need a reminder that you were leaving him, even if it stared him in the face every day. You may not have realized it, but every time you made eye contact, you looked at him like you were about to leave your heart in his lap.

“I’m gonna miss you more. You have no idea,” Haechan said, forgoing his grip on your hips to intertwine his fingers with yours.

You squeezed his hand, closing your eyes and releasing a shaky breath. “You won’t hate me for this, will you?”

Haechan recoiled in surprise. “Why would I ever hate you?”

You shook your head. You knew it was irrational. That being said, that didn’t stop you from being afraid of what was to come in the very near future. “I just… I thought you would feel betrayed. We made a lot of promises together and now we’re breaking them because I can’t be here anymore.”

Haechan sucked in a breath. He figured it would be best to think over what he was going to say before he let it spill from his mouth. “I don’t hate you. I will never hate you. I understand why you’re leaving and I’m happy for you, because I know that you’ll be happier there.”

“What if I leave and it’s not what I’m hoping for it to be?” you asked.

Haechan countered promptly, “What if you leave and it’s everything you want it to be and more?”

“Everything I want and more would be for us to go to a whimsical place far away from here where we can be together until the day we die, but that’s not realistic.”

“Dreams are never realistic. That’s what makes them dreams. It’s up to you to make them real,” Haechan replied, meeting your eyes and never daring to look away no matter how much it pained him.

You sighed. He could be so wise when he wanted to be.

Haechan took a minute to collect himself and continued, “I want you to chase your dreams, baby. Even if it hurts me in the process. Because what would hurt me more is knowing that you’re unsatisfied and putting up with something just because you think it’s what I want.”

In that moment, you finally realized how lucky you had gotten with him. You always knew you were lucky, but right now you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. And at the same time, you felt like fate wasn’t on your side. “I’m so scared, Haechan.”

“I’m scared for you,” he admitted, poignant. “My mind keeps screaming with thoughts of things that could go wrong with you out there in some big city all by yourself.”

“But?”

Haechan gave you a look. “What do you mean? But nothing. I’m scared and I wish things were different so that you could stay here.”

That made you laugh for some reason. Maybe because you weren’t expecting it.

The sound of your laughter eased some of the tension in his heart. He asked, “You know what scares me more though?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and droned, “I know, I know. The thought of me not being happy and sacrificing my dreams just so that we can be together.”

Haechan shook his head. “No,” he blurted out. Then, he thought about it. “Well, yes, that too, but I was going to say the thought of you not being mine. I’m terrified of you moving on and forgetting about me.”

You frowned, bringing your hand to his cheek with the tenderness he’d always loved about you. “I’ll never forget you. You mean the world to me. You give me strength. I’m not gonna lie, if it weren’t for you, I probably would have slit my wrists a long time ago.”

Haechan winced. “Damn, baby.”

You smiled thinly, watching his eyes close and his face rub against your palm as you gently soothed him. He would forever be a slave to your touch. “I know. But you being there for me has changed my life for the better. And even if we never see each other again, I’ll still remember your face. Your voice. The way you laugh and the way you make me think. I’ll always carry a piece of you inside my heart.”

“And you’ll be walking with all of mine,” Haechan told you fondly, losing himself in you.

In more ways than one. You couldn’t remember how long you two had stayed there, pleasuring each other until you were too sore to take any more and too weak to keep your eyes from closing. You just knew that you had been cocooned in his embrace, arms and legs coiled snugly around him, wishing you didn’t have to let him go.

You still could see the heartbroken pain on his face he tried (and failed) to hide as he watched you leave that following morning.

“It was so hard to walk away after that,” you confessed, slumping against the wall. “I knew that if I looked back, I would run right back into your arms.”

Haechan dropped beside you and lowered his head onto your shoulder. “Then I’m glad you never looked back. There was always this sadness to you, even when you tried to hide it from us. I don’t feel that from you now.”

You were happier. You were in a place where you felt like you could be yourself, surrounded by friends you trusted and found reliable. No one passed any judgment. But none of that would matter if you didn’t make it back home. “I hope it’s not all for nothing.”

“It’s not all for nothing,” Haechan replied sternly. “We’re gonna be fine.”

You nodded, believing him. You would all be fine. Everything would be okay.

The lights flickered on in the hallway, drawing everyone’s attention to the door, and you could see through its window. They were motion activated, which meant someone was coming. You swallowed, wondering whether to expect Mark, some monsters, or a secret third option.

You thanked God himself when you saw Mark barge through the door with Xiu, holding a basket of snacks.

“I’m gonna go grab something to eat,” you told Haechan, standing up on your legs. “You want anything?”

Haechan shook his head. “Nah, I’m not hungry.”

You were tempted to press, but you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, so you left it alone and walked away. He was hardly blinking but he didn’t seem tired like you were after so much sprinting. You knew he tended to get lost in his thoughts to the extent of neglecting himself and you were beginning to get a little worried.

Mark saw you approaching him and dropped everything (he literally dropped the snacks) to throw his arms around you securely. You squeaked in surprise but welcomed it nonetheless. “Oh my god. I can’t breathe. Mark, when did you get so strong?”

“I’m so sorry I dragged you here,” he apologized, penitent. “If I had known that this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have forced you to show up against your will.”

You didn’t spare a second in responding, “Mark, don’t you dare apologize. Absolutely none of this is your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

Mark still felt guilty. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was to blame for some of this. “I know, but I’m the only reason you came. And if I didn’t make you come here, you would’ve been safe. You would’ve never gotten hurt.”

You sighed. “It’s just a scratch, Mark.”

“Right now it’s just a scratch. I hope to God that’s the most any of us get,” Mark huffed. He was annoyed, but not with you. With himself.

You hoped so too. No matter what amount of unfinished stood between anyone, no one deserved to die. You didn’t want a day intended for celebration and unity to end with mourning and grief. And even then, that ship had sailed.

Mark nudged your side with his elbow. “How’s Haechan doing? I see you guys haven’t left each other alone. And you were so scared of running into him.”

You mustered a smile. You had been so convinced that reuniting with your old lover would be the worst thing to happen today. “Yeah, it’s funny. I don’t know what I was so afraid of. He’s still the same boy I fell in love with, but eight years older and eight years wiser.”

“Is he holding up okay?”

“I think he’s holding up better than anyone in the room, to be honest,” you answered with a nod, glancing back at Haechan. He was still sitting by the wall, stoic as ever. “He’s really brave and super strong. Always has been.”

Mark followed your gaze. The tenacity was something he could appreciate and definitely something needed when half of you were on the verge of losing your shit. Even Johnny was grappling with defeat. “He’s the kind of person you need. The kind of person you deserve.”

There was a dull throbbing in your heart. It was an ache that you’d suppressed for many years and it’d finally had its fill of being locked away. It needed attention. “He said he still loves me, you know.”

“And what did you say?” Mark asked expectantly.

You shrugged. Obviously, you knew, but the whole thing still seemed surreal to you - not just the monsters. You had been half expecting hatred, resentment and dismissal. Not affection and compassion. “I didn’t say it back, if that’s what you’re asking. Not directly, at least. But I think he understood. He and I have always had a way of communicating.”

Mark bobbed his head in agreement and replied, “Yeah, that’s true. I still can’t see you with anybody else. You two belong together and I hope that when we make it out of here, you guys can work things out.”

You grinned softly. No matter what, you and Haechan had always been the couple that everybody wanted together. It made you happy to know people still felt that way, because you did too. But you chose to deflect, asking, “What about you and Xiu?”

“I wanna make things work with her too. I’ve had a crush on her for the longest,” Mark confessed, turning his head to look at her. She was a few feet behind him consoling Johnny and Victoria.

You nodded, pleased that Mark had found his match. He had been as unhappy in love as you were. It was in the genes, even if he wasn’t your blood brother. “Oh, I know. I think everybody knows. You were never exactly subtle. But I have to give credit where credit is due, and it’s crazy that she’s all over you now. What did you do?”

To your surprise, Mark started giggling mischievously.

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what that meant. “Nevermind. Spare me the details.”

Mark threw his hands up. “Hey, that’s just life, you know? Things work out when they’re supposed to.”

You had been about to reflect on the remarkably wise words spoken to you, but everyone quickly noticed the faint thump resounding in the hallway as the lights flickered on, indicating that someone was approaching. The dialogue faded. It was so quiet that all you could hear was your quickening pulse.

All of the boys were on high alert. Taeyong, who was already on edge, rooted in place like a rock. Johnny glanced up from where he’d been sitting with his face in his hands, tapping his foot. Haechan made his way over to investigate. And Mark stood in front of you protectively.

It was like a dam breaking. There was a split second of peace before a pack of zombies barged in through both entrances, and your whole body went into panic mode. You couldn’t breathe and your immediate instinct was to take flight, but there was nowhere else to go. You were trapped.

Startled beyond belief and terrified for her life, Xiu ran over to where you and Mark were standing in shock as everything rapidly unfolded, grasping his arms and joining you behind him. At the moment, it felt like the safest place to be.

Haechan was quick to draw his weapon and start opening fire on the gory monsters in front of you, but there was no way he could defeat them all. There were too many. The sound of gunshots made you recoil harder and you shrunk in on yourself, willing yourself not to sob.

In the blink of an eye, they were cornering Victoria like a knot of hungry sharks. Johnny cried out her name and didn’t think twice about advancing on the hungry creatures, knocking two of them dead onto the ground with his fist.

When Johnny spun around to grab her and lead her away from the others, Victoria bit into his face.

You closed your eyes when you heard his screams, knowing that there was nothing you could do for either of them now. The infection spread within them too quickly. It had been like that with Jaehyun too; one second he was the sweet boy you’d always known, and the very next, he was trying to drag you into the void with him.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Taeyong getting drowned into a sea of monsters. He resisted, thrashing against them and kicking his legs, but to no avail. You lost sight of his face as he was swallowed beneath them to be feasted on like a rotting dead animal.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. What you were hearing. The wound of grief from earlier was still too fresh and you weren’t afforded the opportunity to process the second and third losses before Taeyong was stolen from you too. He shouted out in pain, but the sound was muffled as he was overpowered. You would never forget those agonized cries for as long as you lived.

Haechan accidentally shot one of them in the head and it dropped to the ground, its body twitching for a few seconds before it stilled completely. You gawked, eyes widening. That was how you killed the dead.

He seemed equally stunned, but there was no time to waste in lying around waiting to die. “We need to go,” he said in a tone that would brook no argument.

As sick as it sounded, you knew he was right. You needed to leave while it was still an option. You were outnumbered. The monsters were still focused on Taeyong and they wouldn’t be distracted by him for much longer. It was now or never.

“There’s an emergency exit door in the storage room,” said Mark, gesturing for you all to follow him with a rapid blur of his hands.

The remaining three of you paced behind him as quickly as you could without drawing attention to yourselves. As much as you hated having to leave them there for dead, you had to prioritize survival. You tried to tell yourself that they would have wanted you to leave. Whatever you needed to do to convince yourself that you were making the right choice.

Fortunately, the storage room was unlocked, and all four of you charged inside, maneuvering between several racks of spare basketballs and sports equipment and sundries. You had no idea where the exit door led to specifically, but you had no other option than to fuck around and find out.

You ended up halfway out of the school. There was a fence within a fence, bringing you outside, but still within the outermost perimeter. It was a dangerous place to be, considering most of the monsters were roaming outdoors and you had no way of escaping the relatively tall gates of your school.

The innermost fence, on the other hand, while definitely all, was still climbable. Your school was a prison no one had been talented enough to sneak out of, but that didn’t mean no one had ever tried. And you and Haechan had gotten pretty good at hopping over the inner fence to take a detour to the garden shack for some alone time.

Mark looked at the fence in disapproval. There was a gate, but it was obviously locked. No one other than the coaches and custodians likely knew the code. “What fucking security freaks, dude.”

Haechan looked toward you. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

You nodded reluctantly. It had been a minute since you’d needed to hop a fence, but you couldn’t stay here. You had to go back inside the school.

Xiu caught on and she didn’t like it one bit. “No way you guys are seriously thinking about climbing the fence.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Haechan asked impatiently.

Mark narrowed his eyes at Haechan. “Don’t talk to her like that. She’s scared of heights.”

“And I’m scared of getting my brains chewed out by zombies and turning into one like the rest of our friends. You two can stay here, but I’m hopping the fence.”

“Hey, chill out,” you said, putting your hands up and glancing between the both of them before things got ugly. “There’s no point in any of this if you’re both just gonna kill each other. We need to hop the fence. Now.”

Mark sighed, turning towards Xiu. “I can carry you over, if you want.”

Xiu shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I can do it.”

Haechan was satisfied. “Good.” He pivoted so that he was facing you, handing you the shotgun. “Hold this for me.”

You grabbed the gun cautiously. You were every bit afraid of accidentally setting it off and wounding yourself or someone else in the process.

Haechan stepped back, taking a deep breath, and ran up and hauled himself over the fence like it was nothing. You acted quickly, but carefully, handing him the gun over the slightly shorter gate.

Then, it was your turn. Your heart was pumping. Your whole body was on edge. You walked backwards, putting some distance between you and the fence, and sprinted over without a second thought. You grasped the top for leverage and pulled yourself over, landing on your feet.

And then there were two.

Mark exhaled a shaky breath and glanced at Xiu again, holding her hands. “You can go now.”

She shook her head. “No, you go.”

Mark looked like he was about to ask if she was sure, but Haechan beat him to a word. “Fuck’s sake, we don’t have time for this. There’s zombies coming. Look behind you.”

There were a handful of zombies slowly but surely making their way over and there was only so much time before they caught up to you. Frantically, Xiu began to fret, eyes widening as she clasped Mark’s forearms. “Go. I don’t wanna slow you guys down.”

Mark glanced between her and the fence, stuck at a crossroads. Ultimately, he grabbed Xiu’s face and kissed her breathless like it was his last chance to let her know how he really felt, and threw himself over the fence.

“Okay, baby. It’s your turn,” Mark said, gesturing for her to come over.

Xiu hesitated, eyes wide with fear. It was a six foot tall jump that required every bit of vigor to haul yourself over. You watched with dread, an invisible clock ticking above your head as your body shuddered with alarm. You couldn’t stand still.

Especially not when the zombies were getting closer and closer with every second gone to waste. In a life or death situation, every single breath counted. She was running out of time and you desperately didn’t want to lose another valuable friend that had made an impact on your life for the better. You just couldn’t. You refused.

“Babe,” Mark called again, on the verge of panic. “Please. You have to jump right now. Just come to me.”

You and Haechan urgently waved her over. You exclaimed, “Xiu, just do it! Don’t think about it. It’s only gonna take a few seconds and then it’ll be over.”

Xiu stepped back, preparing herself for the leap. She took a few restrained steps forward, testing the waters, and backed away again. “Mark, I can’t do it. I’m scared,” she whimpered.

“Yes, you can,” Mark reassured her gingerly. “You can do it, Xiu. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

Xiu begrudgingly nodded, wanting to trust him more than anything. She exhaled a shaky breath and walked back, glancing over her shoulder to gauge how much distance remained between her and the monsters, and resigned herself to the fact that there was no other way out. Finally, she closed her eyes and sprung forward, getting caught at the top and bracing herself on the fence.

When she glanced back, she lost her grip and fell for all of a couple seconds, cracking her skull on a rock.

The sound was the most devastating thing you’d ever heard.

“Xiu!” Mark cried out in anguish, rushing towards the fence without a second thought.

Haechan had to get a hold of him before he leaped back over, barely able to restrain Mark with how wildly he fought it. Haechan briefly forwent the gun and grappled Mark, spinning him around so that they were face to face. “Hey, man. Look. Look at me,” he said, bracing his shoulders. “She’s gone.”

“No,” Mark shouted in denial, attempting to wrestle free of Haechan’s iron grip.

You helped Haechan hold Mark in place, knowing it would be both foolish and risky for him to go back over when there were monsters nearly clawing at the gate. You could see the agony on your brother’s face and it broke you in half. “Mark, I’m sorry,” was all you could bring yourself to say. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Mark echoed, but this time it was a hollow whisper. He slackened and the second you and Haechan released him, he dropped to the ground. There was no faking the heartbreak in his eyes. In his voice.

Haechan exhaled deeply, cradling his face in his hands. “Fuck, man.”

Even though you were dealing with your own overwhelming whirlwind of emotions - anger, grief, and fear - you knew someone needed to be the voice of reason between the three of you so that you could survive. “Mark, it’s time to go,” you told him gently.

Mark looked up at you, empty. Like he didn’t care whether he lived or died. His voice was quiet. “I promised. I promised her she was gonna be okay.”

You shook your head, reaching out to grab his hands in an act of consolation. “You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”

Mark was in too deep. He couldn’t see it any other way. To him, this was preventable and the outcome had largely depended on him. He lowered his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have let her go last. I could’ve helped her. I knew she was scared.”

“You can’t blame yourself for this, Mark. It’s no one’s fault,” you replied gently, wishing there was something you could say to convince him. But you didn’t have time for that right now. “But we really need to get going so that no one else gets hurt.”

Mark nodded, begrudgingly coming to a stand. He was only partly in the journey now; halfway to surrender. “The gym’s blown. What’s the next best place?”

You thought about it. “The auditorium?”

“There’s too many doors,” Haechan chimed, having learned his lesson from the gym fiasco.

You shrugged. “Yeah, but we can hide behind the stage if we need to.”

Haechan sighed. “I guess.”

You frowned. There was a stormy, dark cloud of defeat hanging over the group now and it disappointed you, even if it was justified. You said nothing, dragging your feet with them as you tried to neglect the agony tearing you apart. Brutal was an understatement.

The hallways were damn near packed with monsters, as if they were making sure there was no stone left unturned. No place they hadn’t searched. That thought alone was scary as all hell. With every new corner, the three of you were forced to check each angle before you proceeded down the hall.

It was hard to keep your head in the game when you couldn’t help but vividly remember the lives that had been stolen plain in your face without consequence. One after another, back to back. You were channeling the despair into strength and spunk, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

Hopelessness was nothing new to someone like you, but this was a different breed of misery; you could feel the ache in every breath you took and all the while, you had to ignore how limited they felt, because you didn’t want to lose faith altogether. You had to keep telling yourself that this wasn’t the end even if you could hardly believe it.

You felt sick as you thought of Johnny and Victoria. They should have been happy together, and now you had to pray that their souls were united and at peace. You thought of Taeyong, who had been nothing but nurturing and tender to everyone who loved, but you couldn’t do anything to save him. Xiu who was sweet and deserved a chance with Mark as much as he deserved one with her.

And Jaehyun whose smile you were picturing in your mind and shattering apart at the thought of never seeing again. You wished you could have done more for them. You could still hear their screams and the agonized sound was something you would always remember.

Mark put his hand up, making you and Haechan halt in your tracks behind him in the middle of a broad wall. You figured he’d heard something. He crept closer to investigate, slowly peeking his head around the corner to get an idea what was going on.

In the next second, Mark was blindsided and yanked the other way. He cried out as he disappeared behind the corner.

“Mark,” you called out, eyes widening. You managed to grapple him in the nick of time and forcibly pull him back into you, sighing in relief when you realized he was unharmed. You had been one second away from losing him indefinitely.

Haechan turned the corner with his gun and began shooting anything that moved without mercy. You hated the sound of gunshots and every single one startled you more than the last, but you understood that they were a necessary evil which were aiding in your survival.

The monsters started dropping like flies and you stilled like you’d been struck by lightning when you recognized the one that had grabbed Mark. It was Jaehyun. A little more bloody, a little more pale, but you knew Jaehyun when you saw him. He hardly looked the same without life.

You saw the bullet piercing his forehead and knew that this was the last you’d ever seen of him unless it was in your dreams.

Mark went slack beside you. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he was thinking the exact same thing you were.

Haechan, on the other hand, hadn’t noticed. He was too busy firing away at the flock of monsters in front of you. With how shocked you were, you failed to realize there was another one stealthily creeping behind you until Mark jolted, hollering out in pain.

Your protective instincts kicked in. You weren’t thinking about your own health or safety. You just knew you wanted to protect your little brother with your life and you fought and struggled with the monster, prying him away.

But it was too late. Mark had been bitten. The infection was stronger than your desire to save him, no matter how badly you wanted it. You barely dodged Mark when he lunged at you and tried to get a hold of your arm, your eyes widening in horror at your worst fear coming to life.

“No. God, please,” you whimpered, the defeat finally starting to catch up to you. You couldn’t win this battle. Not when your undoing had been guaranteed from the start.

Haechan gaped, but he didn’t let you falter. You had to stay in motion. Which meant being confined to an eternity of running, and you were beginning to realize it would just be easier to give up. Wordlessly, he handed you the gun, the message obvious. You know what you have to do.

You shook your head. The gun burned your hands. Though you knew that head shots were the only sure-fire way of neutralizing anyone who had been infected, you also figured it would kill them permanently. And you couldn’t do that.

“I’m not killing him,” you told Haechan, backing away. “And I’m not letting you do it either.”

Haechan exhaled through his nose. “We have to do something quickly or we’ll be cornered.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears. It felt like the world was spinning. You were nauseous and sick to your stomach, the most cruel shudder wrecking through your body as you fought the urge to sob.

Finally, knowing you had no other option, you aimed the gun. Mark slumped to the ground, clutching the wound in his leg. Like hell you were going to kill him. “I hope we can fix you,” you whispered poignantly, handing Haechan back the weapon and facing the other way.

You refused to look at Mark anymore. You had failed to protect your own brother. He was your responsibility, your family. The person you were supposed to be there for through thick and thin. And you let him down in the worst way possible.

Haechan gave chase, calling out your name. “Wait!”

Not turning around, you kept walking. You were at your breaking point. “How could you ask me to do that?”

Haechan replied, “He’s dead! There’s nothing we can do for him now whether you shoot him in the head or not. He would have wanted you to protect yourself.”

You whipped around and exclaimed, “You don’t know that! There has to be something we can do.”

Haechan was quick to ask, “Like what, baby? You really think they’ve got some anti-zombie virus remedy cooked up and ready to hand out? That’s just not realistic.”

“What if it was me?”

Haechan rooted in place, his feet fixed to the ground as his eyes flickered with surprise. “What?”

“You heard me,” you snapped. “What if I had gotten bitten? Would you have shot me?”

Haechan swallowed. “You can’t ask me something like that.”

That only served to make you angrier. It was the same damn situation, as far as you were concerned. Losing someone you cared deeply about and being forced into making a tough choice. “Why not?”

“Because it’s different,” Haechan huffed.

“How?”

Raising his voice ever so slightly, Haechan replied, “I don’t know. It just is!”

You didn’t realize that your volume had attracted more attention until it was too late. You could feel the dread flooded into your bloodstream before you even knew why. When you glanced up, you saw monsters approaching you both at every turn, at every angle.

At that moment, you accepted defeat. You knew you had no chance at victory. Even if you fought until the very end, rebelled against everything inside you that wanted to surrender in hope of survival, you knew it would be pointless. You would run out of bullets at some point exactly like how you’d run out of will. And you were already running on empty.

If you somehow survived this, you would wish that you hadn’t. How could you live after seeing what you had seen, constantly reminded of what you’d lost?

Haechan was on the same page. You couldn’t escape this, no matter how hard you tried. He laced his fingers through yours and confessed again, “I love you.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears were dripping from your eyes and staining your cheeks. “I love you too,” you whispered.

Haechan nodded, releasing your hand to throw his arms around your waist from behind.

His teeth sank into your neck.

#lee haechan smut #haechan smut #nct #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut

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harmonicakai · 7 months ago

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Mr. Know It All

Pairing: Taehyun x Reader

Summary: When you finally find yourself sleeping over at Taehyun’s dorm, you start to wonder if you and him could ever be something more serious.

Tropes: friends with benefits, mutual pining, angst, fluff, college AU, tutor!taehyun

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of sex (mdni), LOTS of overthinking

A/N: This is unedited and I wrote it all in one go lol <3

"And the songbirds are singing Like they know the score And I love you, I love you, I love you Like never before" —Songbird, Fleetwood Mac

Taehyun doesn’t know how to tell you that things aren't and never have been casual between the two of you.

It started one rainy afternoon after a study session in the library. The two of you had run through the deluge into the safety of his dorm room, and when he peeled off his wet clothes to change, you didn’t look away.

So, one semester later, right after you’ve finished moaning his name, he struggles to find the words to ask you to stay the night.

He hates watching you gather up your things and leave, refusing to be held by him for even a moment after both of you have finished what you came here for.

“Y/N,” he manages to get out, his voice barely above a whisper. You turn away from the door, your hair still messy, eyeliner smudged. “It’s raining.”

It’s code for “I love you. Please don’t leave.”

“Right,” you say, glancing out the window. Lightning flashes throughout the small dorm, with the crash of thunder following shortly after. Only a fool would leave in this weather. “I don’t have an umbrella.”

“You can stay,” Taehyun says, patting the bed beside him. You nod, crossing over and settling under the warm blanket. Despite how often you’re here in this position, it’s never under these circumstances.

“It seems like the rain is always bringing us together,” you laugh. You’re careful not to say anything loud enough for his roommate to hear through the walls, although in retrospect, you’ve never considered your volume when in bed with Taehyun before.

It’s awkward. Before any of this started, he was just the guy who helped you out with your math problem sets. Add in the perfect distraction from actually sitting down and having a conversation with each other, and you barely knew anything about him.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he offers, already sliding off of the twin sized mattress with a pillow in his arms. “I don’t want to bother you.”

You note how between sleeping next to you and on the floor, he’s decided that the latter is more bearable.

Usually, the two of you are in perfect sync. He knows how to please you better than any other guy you’ve been with, making sure to do things the exact way that you like. Sometimes, you worry that he doesn’t think the same of you.

Are there other girls? You don’t see him as often as you’d like to, but maybe he’s just busy with other things. Kang Taehyun, the chronic overachiever and golden boy of SNU. What would he even want with a girl like you?

Surely, he spends all of his free time studying and going to band practice, you tell yourself.

At this point, your racing thoughts are never going to let you fall asleep.

“Taehyun,” you say, hoping you aren’t waking him up. You haven’t taken your eyes off the ceiling since he moved to the floor, half out of guilt that he’s even down there, and half worried you’ll catch yourself staring at him while he sleeps.

“Yeah?” he answers, his voice low. You wonder what it sounds like when he sings with his band. Maybe, if he asks you to, you’ll go to one of his concerts soon.

You hesitate, wondering whether or not he’ll say yes. “Can you come back up here?”

When you hear him gather his things and stand up, you finally let out the breath that you've been holding. Within seconds, he’s climbing in next to you, his body warm and strong.

“Are you cold?” he asks, pulling the covers up over your collarbone. “Sorry. I think the heater is broken and I haven’t had time to call maintenance.”

“Yeah, it’s a little chilly,” you confirm, although the temperature is fine. In fact, it might even be a little too hot.

“I can, uh,” Taehyun starts. You’ve never heard him stutter before. “I can hold you, if you want. That might help.”

“That would be nice,” you say, mentally cringing at how formal the exchange is. He positions himself behind you, snaking his arm around your waist and pressing his chest against your back.

“Is this better?” he asks, his voice still shaky. You worry that this level of intimacy is making him uncomfortable, but he nestles his head over your shoulder in a way that makes you finally stop overthinking. Maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way you do.

“Yes,” is all you manage to squeak out. He lets out a quiet laugh in relief before pressing a kiss into your shoulder blade. The small gesture sends a shockwave through your body.

“You’re cute,” he says, snuggling into you further. Is this really what things would be like if you didn’t run away after every hook up? It seems like second nature to him, making you question whether it actually means anything.

Still, he doesn’t bother to touch you now like he’s always dying to after you show up to class in a short skirt or send him a risky text when you know he’s running office hours.

“I can hear you thinking,” he mutters, startling you. You break away from his grasp to turn and face him, his piercing eyes already fixed on you. “Is something wrong, Y/N?”

“No,” you attempt to lie, although your face says otherwise. Taehyun feels you stiffen in his arms, your gaze locked on his.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he concedes, his voice icy and monotone. “But I know something is wrong.”

How could he know that? What could Taehyun possibly know about you besides what you look like with your clothes off?

When he first got assigned to tutor you, he had scolded you for being late, and again for being unorganized. If you don’t open up to him now, he might actually revert to the same cold demeanor as before.

Even worse, he might stop meeting up with you. With the school year ending next month, you’ll have no excuse to see each other anymore. The thought of being alone again brings you to tears.

Taehyun’s expression softens at the sight of you breaking down. “I’m sorry,” you cry, burying your face into his chest. His hand reaches up to stroke your hair, the other gently rubbing your back. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight.”

“I do,” he sighs. You pull back just enough to look up at him through teary eyes. “I pushed things between us too far. I should’ve known that you wanted to keep things casual. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You stare at him, awestruck at how wrong he is. You want nothing more than to know anything and everything about him.

Still, when you search for the right words to explain this, your brain draws a blank. The only thing you can do is cup his face and kiss him, your nerves finally settling when he melts into you.

You’ve kissed him hundreds of times by now, but this one feels like the first time.

It feels like forever before he pulls away from you, a wide grin on his face. “Please, please, please let me take you out to dinner.”

“Okay,” you smile back, unable to contain your giddiness. “I’d like that very much.”

“Tomorrow night?” he proposes. His eagerness makes you giggle. He might be the busiest person on campus, but he’ll clear his entire schedule if it means he gets to spend time with you.

“Sure,” you agree. “It’s a date. If we ever manage to get out of bed, that is.”

Taehyun laughs a little before pulling you into another kiss. By now, the rain has stopped, but you aren’t going anywhere.

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @beomgyubabybear @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9 @baekberrie

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! Also, I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don't want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to make a note <3

#txt #tomorrow x together #txt imagines #txt fic #txt x reader #taehyun x reader #taehyun #kang taehyun #txt taehyun #taehyun fluff #taehyun smut #taehyun angst #txt fluff #txt angst #txt smut #taehyun imagines

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dev1lm4n · 1 year ago

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lesson one: sensitive

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: under several notable circumstances, mr. miller finally decided that he'd be the best teacher for your first debut into sexual activities. even when all of it is to prepare you for your successful date.

word count: 5.4k (i know.. i went a little crazy on this lol)

warnings: explicit (18+), set in 2013, pre-outbreak, age gap (joel in mid 30's and reader in early 20's), inexperienced but not dumb reader, fingering, he's kinda mean, check umbrella warning on series masterlist

notes: i had so much fun writing this! tbh this one is super filthy compared to the other one so.. forgive me 🤲 COMMENT n REBLOG if u liked it

“I could take you home if you’d like. Pretty girls like you shouldn’t roam the street alone.”

Simon, more commonly referred to as Robotic Class Guy or French Fries, was surprisingly not half as bad as you thought he would be. He had all the height of a man but none of the bulk. From behind he could be easily spotted as someone in their late teens to early thirties, mostly blaming his horrid graphic tee and skinny jeans combo, but when he turned that face was all boy. His caramel hair flopped over his eyes in the way no office worker could get away with and on his wrist were bracelets in woven leather.

At first, you accepted his awkward invite out of spite.

Just to rid yourself of a certain plague festering upon your head, feasting on your brain cells so that you’d think of nothing but Mr. Miller in all his glory. Him with his tight worn-out jeans, spread open enough that you could see a naughty peak of his bulge, while he watched the soccer game. Him with his shirt off, bathing in the summer-induced moisture, while he mowed the front lawn and edged the curb. Him with his thumb parting your lips, looking at you like he’s about to consume you alive, but of course he didn’t.

At least now that Simon came around, you’d have a new port to anchor your boat on.

“No, thanks, I’m alright. My..”

Who was Mr. Miller to you again?

Your.. father? Absolutely not. Even if he’s taken you in as a part of the Miller family, just like how he used to say, you would feel like it’d be morbidly repulsive to deduce him to that particular role. For fuckssake, you stick a finger up your cunt every single week to the thought of him fucking you like one of his girls.

Then would a family friend be better of a word? Or should you just say that he’s a guardian of yours? But that’d be confusing, wouldn’t it? You glanced at your watch, counting the hour and minute hand as if it’d give you a revelation on how to answer Simon’s pop quiz.

“Someone promised to pick me up.”

That sure did sound ominous.

With a promise to leave a message to his cell once you’ve returned home safely, you stepped out of the quaint local restaurant. It was warm outside and you weren’t particularly fond of that. Heat has always been your mortal enemy; something about the musty scent of middle school boys’ armpits after PE class mixed in with the pungent perfumes they use to try and hide it has left you permanently traumatized. Your once-cheery mood had long evaporated along with any semblance of coolness. You tugged at the hem of your sundress, fanning yourself with your hand in a futile attempt to find relief from the stifling heat. This is hell!

Where was Mr. Miller?

Mr. Miller must've read your mind, because a honk quickly resonated. He was on the very corner of the parking lot; his large pickup truck looked hilariously out of place when compared to the array of city cars parked by his side. You swore you could see him grin from behind the shaded tint of his window, perhaps entertained at your almost too obvious annoyance. The thought made your heart jump and maybe even did a front-flip. God, you’re helpless!

As you beelined down the sidewalk and on to him, the heat seemed to intensify with every step. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, causing your hair to stick in weird shapes. You just hope that his truck’s AC works.

“Hi.. Hi, Mr. Miller.”

“Hey, sweetheart. How was it?”

The nickname never ceased to exude so much power. ‘Sweetheart’ made you feel as if a tail had grown out right from the hilt of your ass and you had no other choice than to swish it around excitedly. You propped up one leg on the washed-off gray carpet, before swinging yourself into the vehicle in one go. The door closed behind with a loud thud. As you leaned back, you cringed at the feeling of your sweat-soaked dress clinging onto your skin. You felt like some marinated beef, sticky and in need of a quick shower.

“It was alright,” you hummed.

“Alright? Now that made me all the more curious,” he grinned, nudging your side with the edge of his elbow. “Com’on now. Tell me all about it, will ya?”

“Mr. Miller, are you trying to embarrass me?”

Mr. Miller’s soothing brown eyes that were stuck on the glittering street lights came flickering over to you, as if he’s actually afraid that perhaps he’s made you uncomfortable. His shoulders squared and his jaw slackened for just a split second as he tried to grasp for any nuance you’ve just given. You then smiled at him, relieving him of his worries.

It’s a little jarring to say that you think he’s quite cute. In the same way people find puppies cute, or those strawberry-shaped trinkets. He’s a little socially-awkward in his own way. Embarrassed to ask the waitress to bring his plate back, but would be confident bullying his cock into a tight cunt. Would definitely get kooky when asked to join a parents-teacher conference, but would whisper filthy things on the internet.

“I ain’t tryna make you embarrassed,” he huffed out. “I just wanna know you’re safe.”

How nice. If only he knew why you went on dates in the first place.

“He’s alright, Mr. Miller. Kind, decently groomed, respectful,” you replied, flicking through your Twitter feed mindlessly. “Better than most college guys.”

“Did he pick you up?”

Your forehead scrunched up. “I ordered a cab.”

“Did he at least get the door for you?”

“It’s not exactly the 1900’s, is it?” you quipped back at him.

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for your answer.

“If you’re that curious, then no.”

“Well then, did he pay for dinner?”

“No, well.. I did offer for us to split it,” you reasoned.

“Well, sweetie, he’s not too respectful. Is he?”

“Yeah.. but he’s cute.”

He’s cute and you’re desperate to get over Mr. Miller. Terribly so. At first, the entire situation with having your pornstar crush be the head of your host family was hilarious, it’s a joke written by itself. But then the desires went through the roof in a matter of weeks and you’re sure that you’d actually jump him one of these days. He’s attached to the back of your mind like some ghostly presence. Everything he said and done carved at your brittle wall of determination and one day it’s all going to fall apart like broken glass. You needed to stop it from happening.

There was a minute or so where he didn’t have anything to say. He hadn’t let go of the handbrakes either, though he appeared to be squeezing the leather cover of the steering wheel tighter.

“Cute ain’t enough for a man, sweetheart.”

Mr. Miller finally pushed down the handbrakes and released the pickup truck from the small parking lot. His large hands skillfully turned the wheels to fit through the tiny gaps, guiding the vehicle towards the open road. You shut your eyes for a good minute, then you let out a weighted sigh. Almost as if you’re a deflated balloon.

The drive was going to be a long one, considering the restaurant you’re on was in the heart of the town and Mr. Miller’s humble abode was more towards the outskirts. Would he continue preaching about the importance of Southern manners and being a gentleman? Because if he did, perhaps you’d just shut him up with a kiss.

“I’m just a little nervous,” you broke the silence.

“Because of the boy?”

“Sorta, yeah. It’s my first time..”

You clicked your phone shut, stuffing it on the cup holder next to the car stick. The entire conversation was making you nauseous. You had to press on the button on your left to slide down the windows in order to take in fresh air. Through the open window, a gentle breeze tousled the top of your hair, carrying with it the familiar scent of Summer in Austin. As he drove closer into the outskirts of town, the lights gradually faded behind into a sea of twinkling stars.

“First time in what?”

“In all this,” your hand motioned the idea abstractly.

“You’ve never dated?”

An enthusiastic grin snaked its way to his lips.

“I have! But it’s not- it’s not real. It’s middle school romance. We meet each other in the hallways, hold hands and giggle about it, then go on pizza dates,” you tried to explain. “I’ve never dated properly.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” you tousled your hair in frustration. “Just because, Mr. Miller. I’m not sure either. Maybe I’m just comfortable in my own little bubble?”

“Then this boy.. What’s his name again?”

“Simon.”

“Right, Simon. Are you thinking of dating Simon properly?”

“Maybe,” you muttered.

“Maybe I could teach you,” he paused. “Well, that is if you’d like this old man to teach you old tricks.”

Your hands tightly clutched the edge of your seat. A rise of bile disturbed your throat's peace as a knot of anxiety started to form in your stomach. This is what you’re working towards.

You didn’t want to admit it, because admitting means legitimizing what you had in mind, but you were hoping for him to offer you help in any way that he felt was right. Despite your.. odd relationship with him, he was your guardian and you’ve seen the way he dealt with all Sarah’s problems with soft-spoken words and fair actions. You trusted him to help you delve into this new world of adult romance, but it’s not like you’re expecting for him to agree on it. Shit, shit, shit! You couldn’t think straight.

“Com’on then. Tell me what you’re so nervous of.”

“You’re gonna laugh at me,” you groaned.

“I’m not!”

“You are,” you persisted.

“Fine. I promise not to laugh.”

You took a deep breath. The single word sticky on the end of your tongue.

“Sex.”

The pickup truck swerved.

To your surprise, instead of howling and laughing at your lack of experience, he was quiet. Awfully so to the point where you think you’d rather have him laugh at your patheticness instead of giving you the cold shoulder. You rolled the window back up, giving him your full attention as you waited for him to do something. He looked tense; the grip he had on the steering wheel was so tight you could see the leather developing crescent-shaped marks. What was he thinking of?

“Do I.. do I have to give you the talk?”

“God, no! Mr. Miller, I’m not clueless,” you looked horrified that he even considered giving you the birds and the bees talk. “I am, but I know what happens.”

The hours you’ve spent analyzing each and every one of his videos surely made an impact on how you view sex. Perhaps not the most accurate one, since you were merely looking through a 720p video and not being present in the scene, but you knew how sex goes. How it starts, what arousal looks like, what appears to feel good and what doesn’t, and how good an orgasm looks like when induced by another person. Mr. Miller might not be aware of how much he’s taught you. Not directly, but in a cause-and-action kind of way.

“Then what are you afraid of?” he hummed.

“Making a mistake,” you muttered dejectedly. “Of it not feeling good.”

A beat passed.

“Do you..” he struggled to speak properly. “Do you want me to teach you?”

What were you thinking! It was one thing to harbor intense, disgustingly filthy feelings towards a man who perceived you as an addition to his family, but it was another thing to act on it desperately. Your mind reeled back towards the exact moment when you agreed on his proposition. How you agreed on it instantly as if it wasn’t even a question, how you nodded your head miserably as if you were afraid that you’d miss this one chance, how you buckled your knees at the thought.

God, how pathetic can you be! You didn’t remember much after such a cathartic turn of events. All you managed to compile in that pretty little head of yours was that he took a different interchange, then slipped onto a highway towards.. whatever this place was.

It was on the outskirts of town. Opposite to where he lived. Big trees grew tall and heavy as they provided a mystique veil for the trailer house. You remembered the shade of peeling paint covering the outside, sky blue. The lanterns provided ample lighting for it to be spotted from a distance, but not enough to attract rowdy attention. Mr. Miller told you to come inside first while he secured his pickup truck properly. He mentioned a thing or two about racoons or squirrels, but you were too high off adrenaline to even notice. Being in the property, you instantly knew where you were.

This was his lair.

Where he shoots his videos, where he invites all his pretty co-stars to make them moan and whimper about how good his cock felt and how deep it went, where he edits those striking millennial-core thumbnails. Your throat grew dry and you began to think if it’s time to bail. He’d understand, wouldn’t he? Mr. Miller would just take you home and forget about it. Then, by next summer, you’d be out of his hair and he’d never even think about it.

A creak sounded from the front door. You jumped.

“Hi, sweetheart. You okay?”

You nodded. Your entire body went cold, especially the tips of your fingers and toes as you saw him come close. One step at a time. Almost as if he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t scare you too much. Mr. Miller looked awfully big up close. You never seemed to notice this entirely when you see him around the house, but when he’s confined in this miniscule trailer house, he looked massive. His presence towered over every last bit of your confidence. It’s surely crumpling - your confidence - slowly dissipating into thin when he was flushed against your chest.

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller.”

He pulled a foldable chair from one of the open compartments, before taking a seat on it. He spread his legs, as always, and had this look in his eyes.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he paused, before resuming. “You could tell me you don’t feel like doin’ this anymore and I could take you home. Won’t talk about it anymore if you don’t wanna.”

“I.. I want to do this, Mr. Miller.”

“Are you sure? There ain’t no pressure in this. I’m simply here to help you, sweetheart, so if you feel like-”

“I get it, okay, I get it. I trust you. A lot. And I know you’d be the best person to teach me.”

What were you even saying? This was straight out of your wildest wet dreams and perhaps that’s why you’re so adamant about it. You watched silently as he contemplated his choices. Mr. Miller scratched his beard for a short while, his gaze focused beyond you and you could almost watch in real-time how his morals and values crumbled onto the creaky floorboards. He stood up from his small chair and headed right towards where you were standing idly. Is this what May felt like in those videos?

“Alright, sweetheart. I ain’t a vocal man so this is gonna be challenging even for me,” he chuckled gruffly. “Every man has their way of settlin’ with their ladies, but I like ‘em stripped off their clothing first. So will you be a pretty thing and do that for me?”

For a second, you were as still as a rock. Entirely not used to having the person who initiated many if not all of your orgasms giving you these orders in real life. He’s right there in front of you, flesh and bones, telling you to strip off your clothing. It felt like a fever dream. You must’ve had a weird look on your face, because a grin started to form on those chapped lips of his.

Conscious of the mistake, you quickly reacted. Almost skittishly in a way as you pulled on the zipper that’s located on your right ribs. Your fingers fumbled with one another, as if it’s been braided into one, but you managed to loosen it after a few attempts. You slipped your right arm under the spaghetti straps, before you slipped the other one. The only thing holding your modesty together was your one arm that’s holding onto the support-less front flap of your sundress.

“Com’on now. It’s just me. You can act shy and adorable around Simon, but not this old man,” he teased.

You nodded, hesitantly letting your arms fall to the side. The terribly warm weather encouraged you not to wear a bra. Although you wondered if 3 PM you knew that you’re going to be engaging in some promiscuous agenda this evening. You looked up into his eyes for some kind of guidance, in which he responded with a curt nod, before you tugged on the dress so that it’d slide onto the floor.

Now the only piece of modesty you’re wearing is your plain white panties. Your breasts were entirely exposed, cold nipples firming up as it reacted to the change of temperature. This is embarrassing! Mr. Miller was being incredibly methodical in the ways in which he approached the situation, lacking sloppy mouthy kisses and feverish touches.

“Smart girl,” he complimented, almost on instinct. “Let’s get on the bed, yeah?”

You moved adjacent to him. Mr. Miller was gentle when he patted the spot next to him, allowing you to settle down properly while he fixed a pillow behind your back. To think that you’re positioned on the same bed where you’ve witnessed him please an array of girls made you feel some sort of way. A hitch in your heart, a twitch in your hole. You’ve never witnessed him this gentle. He’s always fond of establishing the power he held on the dynamic he’s presented, always telling girls what to do in quick succession and calling them humiliating names if they fail to do as told. With you, he was sweet and rather funny.

“In my experience, one of the things girls like the most is to be withdrawn from control,” he spoke up into the thick air. You didn’t miss the way his eyes cruised along your beaded nipples, or the way it watched you with feral precision. “Of course, it depends on the person. But you. I think you’re a sensitive one, are you?”

You nodded obediently.

“Cross your arms behind your back,” he ordered and watched closely as you followed suit. “Lean back onto the pillow.”

You copied his order. Only then did your finicky brain finally compute that you’re limited off your movements now. With your body weight acting like paper weight for your arms, it’d be impossible for you to react in quick time.

“Good girl.”

His mindless comment made you tighten your thighs together.

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” he whispered gently. You could watch how he’s slowly approaching you with much caution. His arms caged you in as it dug into the tangled sheets next to you. He’s testing the currents, making sure you’re fully consenting to the experience before he makes any mistake that might ruin your perception of sex. “Ask your little friend to touch you slowly. None of that frisky aimless touching. If he pulled on your nipples and called it a day, I’d leave his ass.”

This little routine he had, the one Wicked Fantasies had, was memorized into your head and to watch it take place right in front of you made you ecstatic. He caressed the side of your face. Gently even with those big, large fingers of his, he managed to take up a good portion of your cheek. Mr. Miller then made his way to your lips. He swiped it once over your upper lip, then another time over your thicker bottom lip. You’d anticipate for him to stick his thumb in deep enough so that he could see your uvula properly, but he didn’t. Instead, he settled on pressing down your tongue as if to pin it against the lower floor of your mouth. A good amount of saliva was collected that when he pulled away, a lewd string remained intact.

“Do you know why I like pinning a girl’s tongue down?” he queried to increase comfort in a way.

“No,” you whispered breathlessly. “Why?”

“It makes ‘em docile,” he muttered. “Encourages submission and I like a pretty girl who listens.”

Mr. Miller’s fingers dragged through the curves and texture of your warm skin, leaving goosebumps on his wake, before he finally reached your two perky nubs. Each one hardened before he could give them the treatment they both deserved, which in a way broke his routine, but instead of being irritated, he appeared to be pleased.

Girls in his videos weren’t as sensitive as you. They didn’t get riled up just by a little touching and teasing. Seeing you like this was a refreshing touch. One that made the wrinkles on his forehead ripple as his eyebrows quirked. He circled his calloused finger around where the pigmentation started. Once, twice. Right until he was merciful enough to press against the apex of your nipples.

You squirmed.

“So sensitive, are you?” he cooed. “Tell Simon to play with your sensitive little nipples, hm? You look like you could cum just by this.”

“O-oh please!”

“Please?”

You couldn’t respond. Not when he’s rolling the most sensitive part of your nipples between the pads of his thumb and the side of his pointer finger. Touching your breasts with your own nimble hands felt nothing like what he’s doing right now. You instinctually grinded your leaking pussy down onto the bed, almost like an animal in heat.

“Poor thing couldn’t even tell me what she wants. What would Simon think, hm? A girl with no self control like you,” he hummed. Mr. Miller quickly held onto your thighs so that you’d stop rocking onto the bed and getting off from pleasure he’s not offering. Your eyes met his, searching for help, but the sweet and respectful Mr. Miller wasn’t there anymore. “Alright now, sweetheart. You have ta make sure that you’re thoroughly aroused before thinkin’ of even touchin’ this place.”

“You’re new at this,” he hummed. His fingers slipped off the hold he had on your nipples before it slid down your stomach and settled precisely above your clothed clitoris. “It’s gonna hurt bad if you’re not properly lubricated. Sex is supposed to be fun, not painful so if some guy tells you that it’s supposed to hurt, don’t listen to his dumb shit.”

Mr. Miller was incredibly informative if you put aside the fact that he’s touching you in all the right places that it’s making you go dumb. He spent the time explaining why an action must be provided and how to perform it, when you know for a fact that this is not what he’s used to doing. Wicked Fantasies was known to be straight with words, using minimal sentences to provide his co-stars with just the right amount of information. You could tell he’s holding back the urge to be meaner, to act the way he likes, just for you to be more comfortable.

“Let’s take a look, shall we? You think I did a good job, darlin’?”

It’s dark out. There’s only one source of light that’s present in the room. A small bedside lamp in the shape of an elephant, Sarah’s favorite animal that’s grown to be yours as well. This session with him felt intimate; you’d expect for him to bring out the bright light panels and reflectors just like in those videos you watched of him, but instead, he mostly depended on the moonlight rays.

You were acutely aware of how those dark eyes of his mirrored your own. The way he studied you was unlike any other, not with an invasive intent, but rather with heed. You watched as he hooked his fingers on each side of your panties. Slowly dragging it down, only to stop to wait for you to ease your thighs upwards.

“Look at you,” he chuckled. “I’m right about you bein’ sensitive. Don’t think we need any lube when your pussy looks like this.”

By instinct, you brought your thighs together, shy that he’s observing you with such vulgar intensity. He hummed out a tone of disapproval and quickly placed his arms on both of your knees, prying the two apart as if he’s opening a stubborn can of bolognese. You bit your bottom lip, stifling the noise of embarrassment.

Anxiety bubbled up inside of you. You wondered if you looked okay down there - no other men had seen it besides him! - or if there was something strange that caused him to halt. There was a lewd string of sticky arousal pooling on the center of your panties. You silently watched as it stretched and broke as Mr. Miller pulled the thin fabric away.

“You’re soaked, sweetie,” he teased.

“Mr. Miller, that’s- that’s embarrassing..”

“You like to touch yourself, don’t you?”

Your eyes flickered towards his direction in fear. Has he discovered your incurable obsession for him and his erotic videos? That couldn’t be, could it? There’s no scientific correlation between being extremely aroused with masturbation as far as you’re aware, but the confidence he exude made you doubt yourself. Mr. Miller moved in a painfully slow tempo, taking his time to caress your inner thighs and stomach before even considering touching you where it ached. His calloused fingers felt different against your skin. It left a fiery trail in its wake.

“No, I don’t,” you lied with a breathless squeak.

“It’s okay if you like to touch yourself, y’know,” he whispered as if taunting you. “Girls who like to touch themselves understand themselves better.”

Mr. Miller finally touched you properly. His pointer finger probed against your clitoris, touching in the lightest feathery manner possible that you couldn’t have felt it if you weren’t concentrating. Your hips followed the brief source of pleasure, only to be disappointed when you notice that he wasn’t there. He pulled his finger close to his mouth and made a big show out of it. The way your arousal glistened under the pale moon rays, Mr. Miller teased you with his expressions and mannerism. He dipped the stained finger in his lips to have a good taste while keeping eye contact.

“Please touch me.”

“What was that, sweetheart?” he hummed.

“Please touch me again. It feels go-”

You were cut off immediately when he lazily drew a perfect circle on top of your hooded clit.

“Fuck, please, please, sir.”

Ah, he liked that. He liked the new name you’ve granted him. Mr. Miller was kind enough to resume what he was doing. His finger descended down onto your throbbing hole to gather a good amount of slick before he brought it up to aid his ventures.

“The best way to feel good is controlled pleasure. It feels better to be denied than to receive boring continual pleasure, so..” he paused his movement all together. “I’m gonna teach you a little game.”

“A little game..” you sounded like you’re about to cry from his sudden withdrawal.

“Count to ten, properly. Then I’ll reward you with more. If you fail, then we gotta start from the very beginning,” he explained. His warm breath fanning over your sensitive clit. “You think you can do that, pretty girl?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll start now.”

“One, two..”

You felt how he made his laps around your nub. It was much more intense than the pleasures you’ve initiated before. Compared to rutting against a pillow, grinding against a bedpost, or laying under the tub’s running water, this felt like an entire new experience. You fought to keep still, but it’s gradually getting harder when his finger starts prodding against your tight little hole.

“Three, four. Please, Mr. Miller. Oh god,” you whimpered by accident. He didn’t like that one bit by the look he gave you. There weren’t rules and promises to this, no dynamic the two of you have agreed on, but you couldn’t help but be terrified of his disapproval. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sir.”

“From the start,” he ordered.

“One, two, three..”

You could barely remember the numbers in your head despite encountering them almost every day of the week. You’re a smart girl, knows your ways around things, but being touched by Mr. Miller makes you go all dumb.

“Four, five, six..”

Your thighs began to twitch and spasm. You catched the way he pulled back the hood to your clit to get a more direct touch. It was working wonders as the sensation now is a lot more electrifying. Arousal dribbled down your twitching hole and onto the crack of your rear, wetting the sheets beneath you with the sticky clear substance.

“Seven, eight, n- nine!”

You jutted your hips out when his fingers brushed over your clit once more, the sensitive bundle of nerves extra aware of his presence, and he managed to hold you back once more. He’s forgiving. You knew he’d punish his co-stars if they couldn’t stay still like you, but he let this one slide. He continued rubbing slow, tight circles only to alter into an eight shape.

“Ten.”

The ultimatum. It has arrived, your key to heaven.

“Smart girl,” he cooed, never actually stopping. “This little hole of yours looks neglected, hm?”

“Yes, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Touch your clit slowly like I taught you,” he ordered. “You can do that can you, sweetheart?”

You nodded, distraught and ruined. With his sweet permission, you pulled one arm out from your back and rested it right above your clit. Slow and steady. Just like how he ordered. Mr. Miller on the other hand was slicking up his pointer finger with his tongue. Fuck, that looks so god damn hot.

He had pressed his sole finger deep into your warmth with no hesitation whatsoever. The combination of his calloused finger against your walls and the golden freckles inside his narrowed irises had you reaching out for his forearm. Your nails came in contact with his skin as you dug upon it, crescent shapes formed in pinkish shades atop his skin. You had to sit up as the only way you’re getting through this is by leaning on his sturdy arm.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Filthy girls like you love to get their holes filled?”

What you didn’t expect was having him press a second finger in. His one finger was thicker than what you’re used to, but two fingers? That makes you an overachiever for sure. You looked up to meet his eyes frantically. You knew he wouldn’t be kind enough to withdraw the action when his mind is already set on it, but it was worth the try. He cocked his head arrogantly as he pursued his plans. Mr. Miller’s middle finger was a tight fit. Barely able to slip past the ring of muscles. Though when he did manage to get himself in, a loud moan escaped your lips.

“Mr. Miller. I can’t- I’ve never- never taken two fingers!”

“I know you can do it, sweetheart,” his free hand went over to run over your sweaty hair, admiring every inch of you. “You wanna please that boy, don’t you? Little Simon?”

He was skillful with his fingers, perhaps from his job requirements. Although it’s still incredible how he managed to have you squirming, yelling how you’re about to cum in a matter of seconds. All he did was switch between pumping the two in you, creating the filthiest sounds, and reaching upwards to hit that certain spot of yours. You rubbed your clit with much concentration as you followed after his thrusts.

“Mr- oh.. Mr. Miller! I’m gonna cum, sir.”

“You’re gonna do that for me?” he grinned, pushing his fingers into you as deep as they could go. He maintained a steady pace, emphasizing pressure on that spongy spot up top that you’ve never managed to reach with your stubby fingers. “Pretty girl gonna cum from my fingers?”

“Yes, yes.. sir. Please.”

“Cum for me, darlin’” he whispered. “Show me how good you can be.”

Oh god, you're in a lot of trouble.

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