#might help make a name that feels more in line with the rest of the game
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broken-clover · 1 year ago
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Analyzing the Naming Conventions in Bugsnax
I already forgot why I was doing this...
So, obviously to anyone who's played the game, one of the notable aspects of Bugsnax's worldbuilding is that Grumpuses all have very distinctly 'inhuman' names. While somewhat silly, they do help emphasize that this game takes place in a different place than ours, with different creatures and culture. However, despite the oddity, when looking over all the name characters there are at least a couple of conventions that pop up somewhat regularly. There's no perfect one method to it, but I still want to analyze the sorts of thought that goes into giving the grumpuses their names because...I can?
Note: I am not a linguist nor any type of language expert. I'm just really autistic
Given Names
Grumpus given names, at least compared to surnames, bear much more of a resemblance to human names. This is where I'd like to start the analysis, with the first group consisting of names that are more obviously based on real names and simply modified. This section, I believe, is the most obviously notable. Filbo, Beffica, Triffany, Shellsy/Shelda, Alegander, Bronica, Eggabell and Elizabert have a name that fits into this category. Chandlo may also fit in this category as well, but he'll be saved for the next section. These are more grounded, but still include a bit of silliness as to fit in with the rest of the world.
The next section is more of a miscellaneous one, names that may derive from existing words, include at last some familiar syllables, or may just be intentionally strange. Wambus, Gramble, Cromdo, Snorpy, Chandlo, and Clumby make up this category. Interestingly, outside of Snorpy's full name being 'Snorpington,' all individuals in this category have two-syllable names.
The last and easily smallest category are names that are simply existing words. As we will see down the line, this is a convention that is usually reserved for surnames, but there are a couple of outliers. This section consists of Floofty and Wiggle. It should be noted, though, that both maintain the sort of playful and whimsical feel that pervades all of the names in the game, so even though they are much simpler, they still fit.
Surnames
Though significantly sillier-sounding, grumpus surnames also generally follow a much more consistent guideline, with every character sans Cromdo fitting into the same fundamental structure.
In every instance of a character we're given, outside of Cromdo with his surname simply being 'Face,' consists of two words put together unhyphenated. That's a bit obvious. Fiddlepie, Troubleham, Wigglebottom, Fizzlebean, Woolbag, etc etc etc. However, there are still some other rules that go along with it. In most instances, the first half are attributive adjectives or adverbs- ie, describing the noun or verb that come after it, or are verbs themselves. The pie is fiddling, the ham is trouble, the bottom is wiggling, the bean is fizzling, the bag is made of wool. Sometimes there is a bit of an overlap- 'fiddle,' for example, can be itself a noun, but also a verb. Based on the consistency between characters, though, it indicates that in most cases it's meant to be interpreted as a descriptor
There are a few exceptions to the descriptor-noun rule, though none are as much an outlier as Cromdo. 'Gigglefunny' is a verb-adjective structure, differing from the others, but still not having a noun precede a verb or a descriptor. The second is 'Winklesnoot,' which can have a couple of explanations. 'Winkle' is a word, referring to a type of snail, making it a noun-noun structure, but it could also be a shortening of 'wrinkle,' with the R removed for the sake of the overall sound, making it a more typical verb-noun instance. The third deviation is 'Clumbernut,' which actually fits the general structure, but stands out in having no real-world descriptive word. 'Clumber' is not a proper word, though based on the '-er,' it can be inferred that it is meant to fulfil a similar role as a descriptor to the 'nut' that follows
(EDIT- upon second glance, 'Clumber' does actually have an origin, being a breed of spaniel dog who derive their name from Clumber Park in Nottinghamshire. I'm not sure if that was intentional, but in this case, it may or may not fit into the naming conventions, with 'Clumber' being a shortened possessive noun, as 'the nut belonging to Clumber' or 'nut from Clumber')
Still, overall, grumpus surnames never have a noun before the descriptor.
General Conventions
A common overall trait with grumpus names is that they tend to stick to very soft rolling 'rounded' sounds in their names. Letters like X, V, K, Z, and D are scarcely used in names if not entirely absent, while ones such as C, S, W, L and vowel sounds appear more frequently. Lots of boubas, not very many Kiki's. Often the letters that get switched/removed from grumpuses with human-adjacent names are the harsher-sounding ones, such as the harsh X being swapped for slighly softer G in 'Alegander' or the sharp Z being replaced with a soft Sh sound in 'Shelda.' Even when rare harsher sounds do appear, they tend to be encapsulated by or immediately followed by a softer sound, such as the D in 'Chandlo' being preceded by a Sh-sounding Ch and followed by a rolling Lo sound, and the Z in 'Elizabert' being followed by a long A. (Lizbert in general has a slightly-sharper sounding name than most of the other characters, possibly intentionally to show her more rugged nature)
This may go along with how grumpuses appear very approachable and friendly, as even with the visible fangs, they have rounded limbs, furry bodies, and heads that resemble muppets. Perhaps in that sense they were intentionally trying to draw inspiration from muppet names, especially ones from Sesame Street, as many of them have names with softer-sounding or rolling syllables, like Elmo, Grover, and Oscar. While actual muppets don't tend to have names as cartoonishly whimsical as 'Filbo Fiddlepie' or 'Floofty Fizzlebean,' it is possible some of the naming conventions could come from the same place. Grumpuses, much like the game they inhabit, come across as cutesy and unserious, with you only learning of the deeper issues as you play further.
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soaps-mohawk · 9 months ago
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 8: The Thing About Ghost
Summary: You should have expected something bad would happen. You just didn't expect this. Perhaps something good could come of it after all.
Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, slight Gaz x Soap
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, PTSD, nightmares, violence, medical stuff
A/N: I started this chapter this morning. It just came spilling forth and thus you're getting a bonus update this week. I'm honestly so glad to have this one done. Now I can finally say something more than "you'll see" when you ask about Ghost.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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You reach a hand out from under the mountain of blankets, fumbling blindly across your nightstand until you reach your vibrating phone. You pull it under the blankets, blinking blearily at the name on the screen. 
Kyle. 
“Hello?” You mumble sleepily, your eyes already drooping again. 
“Oh, so you can hear your phone vibrating but not me knocking at your door for fifteen minutes?” 
You let out a quiet groan, burrowing back under the covers. “Comfy.” 
“I’m sure you are, but it’s breakfast time, love.” 
You let out a quiet groan, still not moving. “Not hungry.” 
“You need to eat, love. You’ll be grumpy all morning if you don’t.” 
He’s right. If you skip breakfast, you’ll get snippy and hangry. Yet, the comfort of your bed is calling, threatening to lull you back to sleep again. 
“Don’t go falling asleep on me again.”
You startle back awake, groaning. “I wasn’t.” 
“Come on, love. I don’t want to have to get Soap to kick in your door.” 
You let out a loud, dramatic groan before grumbling acquiescence. You slide out from under your covers until you’re sitting on the floor, rubbing your eyes. You don’t bother hanging up as you set your phone on the nightstand before crawling over to the door, just close enough that you can reach up and unlock it. 
You sit back on the floor, hair mussed and still in your pajamas. The door slowly swings open, Gaz leaning against the doorframe. He smiles softly down at you as you yawn, blinking up at him sleepily. 
“That’s cute, but if we don’t get to breakfast, Price might send the cavalry searching.” He says. 
You grumble, pushing yourself up to stand before you grab a sweatshirt and shoes, running your fingers through your hair to make it at least semi-presentable. 
You lean against Gaz as you walk to the mess, resting your head against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. It’s quieter in the mess than normal, Gaz leading you through the line to get food, making your tray for you before you shuffle over to the table where the others are. You sit down next to Price, letting out a yawn as you stare sleepily down at your tray. 
“Was starting tae get worried about ye.” Soap grins at you. 
“Yeah, heard her phone vibrating but not me knocking for fifteen minutes.” Gaz says, taking the seat next to you. 
“I was comfy.” You shrug, picking up your fork. 
“Guess I don’t have to bother asking how you slept.” Price says, grinning fondly down at you. 
“Like a rock.” You say, before taking a bite of sausage. 
“Good.” He says, almost beaming with pride that your little shopping spree yesterday worked, and that the added comfort in your room helped. 
Your face warms under his gaze, practically able to feel him preening with pride. It makes something twist in your stomach, knowing that you made him feel that way. 
The moment is broken as Ghost sighs, standing from the table to dump his tray and leave the mess. 
Soap shakes his head as you watch him go, a frown pulling at your brows. “Don’ mind him. He could do with some soft blankets and more pillows of his own.” 
The image of Ghost curled up with fluffy blankets and a stuffed strawberry of his own has you laughing loudly, not even bothered by the looks you get from the tables around you. 
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You lounge against Gaz’s chest, his arm wrapped around your chest. Your back vibrates every so often as he chuckles at something that happens on the TV. You’re focused on your book, content with a lazy Sunday afternoon. 
“Don’ you two look cozy,” Soap says entering the rec room. “Don’ mind me.” He kneels on the couch next to your feet before flattening himself out between your legs until his head lands in your lap. 
Your cheeks warm as he sighs out a breath, making himself comfortable. You set your book aside, electing to run your fingers through his mohawk. You wonder if you can put him to sleep that way like you almost achieved with Gaz. He lets out a content hum as your nails scratch at his scalp, running your fingers over the short cropped sides of his head. 
You let yourself relax further against Gaz, absentmindedly massaging Soap’s scalp. Your gaze is on the TV but you’re not really watching, too caught up in the bliss of the moment to really care. 
The moment is ruined as Soap’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He lets out a groan, shuffling around to fish it out, lifting his head to stare at the screen. 
“Have to take this.” He murmurs, pushing himself up off of your lap.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips before leaning over your shoulder, kissing Gaz. Your eyes widen as he leaves the room, your heart starting to race. Of course they kiss each other. It’s probably the most natural thing in the world to them. You’ve just never seen it. 
Much less be stuck in the middle of it. 
The images begin to flood your mind, your face getting warmer and warmer. The mental imagine of being sandwiched between them while they kiss over your shoulder, hands everywhere, skin against skin. 
“Enjoyed that, did you?” Gaz’s voice is husky in your ear, his lips brushing the delicate skin. 
Of course he can smell the hike of sweetness in your scent. His hand drops from where it had been wrapped across your chest, his hand trailing down until it rests against your stomach. His lips press against the sensitive skin beneath your ear, tongue darting out to taste. 
“Soon.” He murmurs, before leaning back, resting against the couch once more. 
Your face is burning hot, heart thumping in your chest. A shiver runs down your spine at the idea, your body relaxing further back against Gaz’s, your stomach fluttering as the warmth of his hand seeps through your shirt. 
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You’re ready when he knocks, standing in front of your door again. You open it before he’s finished knocking, his hand falling back to his side. He stares at you for a breath before he turns on his heel, making his way from the barracks. 
You scramble after him as usual, following him into the gym and into the private room. You follow his lead of removing your shoes and jacket, falling into what’s become a routine for the two of you. 
“We’ll work on combos again.” He says, wrapping your hands for you, before his own. 
You go back through what you had done last time, all the combos you’d learned. Well, he told you. You’ve forgotten most of them after the exhaustion and a couple days off. You can tell he’s agitated already as he walks you through the combos, correcting your punches and stance. 
“Move your feet when you punch.” He says, kicking your back leg out from under you, dropping you onto your knee. “Otherwise you’ll hurt yourself.” 
“You’re going to hurt me doing shit like that.” You murmur, fixing your stance again. 
He grabs punch mitts, moving to stand in front of you. He calls out numbers, working through combos and punches. You miss a lot, still trying to memorize which punch belongs to which number and which order to swing your fists in. Part of you wants to drive your fist straight up the middle and into his face. 
A sudden hit to your shoulder sends you sprawling to the mat. You lay there for a second before looking up at him in shock.
“What was that?” You say, getting back to your feet. 
“Dodge or block, just like I taught you.” He says, swinging at you again with the mitt, forcing you back a step. “Your opponent won’t be standing still. You have to know how to throw punches and avoid the ones coming at you.” 
You huff out a breath, trying to stay aware and throw the right punch. You don’t manage to block or dodge every one, your shoulders getting sore as he hits you. He’s not pulling his punches by much, and you can imagine the bruises you’ll sport later. You’re getting tired fast, the combination of the physical effort and the brain power growing to be too much at this intensity so soon. 
A solid hit to the center of your chest as you sprawling out on the mat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a horrible wheezing sound. For a moment you think he might have actually injured you, fear in your eyes as he looms over you. 
“Get up.” He says, shoulders squared like he’s the one in a fight. 
“Give me a second.” You say, still trying to catch your breath. “I need a break.” 
“There are no breaks in a fight.” He says. 
“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think maybe I should just give up and die if I ever get in a fight.” You snap. 
Something flashes through his gaze, the mitts hitting the floor with a thud. He grabs the front of your tank top, lifting you to your feet. He holds you in front of him, leaning down until you’re eye to eye. 
“You think it’s that easy to die? When the time comes you can just lay down and let it happen?” He growls, emotions flickering like flames in his eyes. 
“If this is what it’s going to take to live, then yeah.” You say, not backing down despite the prickling feeling at the back of your neck. 
“You have no idea what it’s like, when death is looming over you. The fear, the regret, the overwhelming push to fight to survive.” He’s close enough that if he wasn’t wearing a mask, you could have felt his breath on your face. 
“I don’t know because I’m not like you. I’m not a fighter, I’m not trained like you. When I asked you to teach me to defend myself, this is not what I meant.” You say, shoving against his chest. 
It takes him by surprise enough that he stumbles back a step. He catches himself easily, hands closing into fists at his sides. He’s ready to fight, you can see it. You’ve unlocked the alpha, angered the beast within him. 
His scent bowls over you, sending you scrambling back out of instinct. The prickling at the back of your neck intensifies and you try to clear your head, preparing you for this fight. You don’t stand a chance, you know that. Going off instinct alone, he could overpower you easily. 
Despite everything in your brain telling you to run away, you do the opposite, racing towards him. He catches you before you can hit him, your feet leaving the ground as he slams you into the mat. You kick and claw at him, catching him in the ribs but it doesn’t even seem to phase him. 
“What was your plan?” He growls, pressing harder against your chest as he keeps you pinned. “Try to take me off my feet? I’m bigger and stronger than you. That’s never going to work.” 
“Then stop being such a dick!” You yell, landing a kick against his hip. “You’re just a bully. A big bully. You’re just like my dad!” 
Both of you freeze at your words, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. His hand closes around the neck of your tanktop and for half a moment you’re scared he might sink his hand in and pull your spine right out through your chest. Instead he releases you, pushing himself up with a growl and making for his shoes. 
You push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he slips them on, grabbing his things before leaving out the door. 
You stare at the door wide eyed as it slams closed. You’re still laying there, chest heaving. You stare at it, half expecting it to open back up, for him to come back. He wouldn’t leave you alone, would he? He’s not supposed to. You’re supposed to have one of them with you at all times. 
You push yourself up onto shaky legs, slowly approaching the door, half expecting it to fly back open. Maybe he’s just standing right outside, maybe he’s just taking a breath and clearing his head. The handle is cold against your heated skin as you pull it open, sticking your head out. 
The hallway is empty. 
You quickly duck back inside, closing the door. He wouldn’t leave you. He wouldn’t leave you. Maybe he went to the bathroom. Maybe he just needed a moment to clear his head. Maybe he’s coming back. 
You sink onto the bench, trying to control your breathing as it starts to get heavy. You can feel that buzzing sensation in your head, your fingers and toes starting to go numb with panic. The one time you leave your phone behind, it’s the one time you need it. Maybe he’s coming back. 
You continue to sit there, waiting, fingers trembling as you put your shoes back on. Someone has to notice your absence eventually. Someone will notice you’re not in your room and you’re not answering your phone. Someone will come looking. 
Or is this a test? 
You’re panicking now, breaths coming in short gasps. You can’t just walk out of here using the front door. There’s alphas and betas crawling all over the gym and there could be a hundred between you and the barracks now. Someone will stop you. Someone will make a scene. 
You can’t reach the windows. Even then, they don’t open and it would be a straight drop to the ground on the other side. You can’t go out the front, but there’s an emergency exit just a few feet down the hallway the other direction. The medical center is the closest building to the gym. Even if Dr. Keller isn’t in her office this early, any of them would be the most likely to help you, to alert Price to your abandoned state. 
You have to get out of the gym. Your scent will reach the others in the building eventually, and someone will take notice. Someone will be bold enough to come after the lone omega. You’re panicking, your entire body trembling. Just out the door to the left and through the emergency exit. Then it’s just a few hundred yards to the medical center and then down the hall to Dr. Keller’s office. 
You can make it. You spent three months running with the CIA. Speed has always been your strength. Get out the door before anyone notices. You have to get out before someone notices and blocks your exit. 
Your mind goes blank as you throw open the door, feet slipping as you race around the corner and down to the emergency door. You don’t even feel the ache in your shoulder as you jam yourself against the door, not caring if it sets off an alarm as you shove your way out to the cool morning air. Your feet move without your brain needing to tell you as you sprint towards the medical building. There’s no one outside, no one milling in the area. No one sees you as you race through the doors, the automatic sliding doors almost catching you as you speed through them and down the hall. Your shoes squeak on the laminate floor, squealing as you slide to a stop in front of Dr. Keller’s office. 
You don’t even check if the light is on before you’re frantically knocking. Your breaths are coming in shallow gasps, black dots dancing in your vision as you fight to get air into your lungs. You need to be somewhere safe, you need somewhere safe before you pass out. You can’t pass out in the hallway. It’s not safe. 
You nearly fall as the door swings open, stumbling into the office. Dr. Keller says your name but you barely hear it, your legs giving out. She catches you before you fall, easing you into a chair. You sink into the plushness, shaking violently as you stare at her with wide, panicked eyes. 
“What is it?” She asks. “What happened?” 
“He...he left me!” You sob, your body starting to curl in on itself. “He...he just left me!” 
Dr. Keller’s voice sounds far away as she speaks, your vision starting to tunnel. You barely register the blanket being draped around your shoulders, the soft fabric tickling your cheeks. 
You don’t hear Dr. Keller on the phone, far too gone in your distress to hear the urgency in her normally calm and composed tone. 
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Dr. Keller opens the door almost as soon as the knock sounds. Price is slightly out of breath, having reached the office faster than she had expected him to. 
“She’s in distress.” Dr. Keller explains as she lets Price into the office, shutting and locking the door behind him. “I need you to be clear headed.” She tells the alpha. “We can worry about why later, right now we need to get her calmed down, understood?” 
“Yes, Doctor” He nods, fighting the urge to recoil at the sharp bitter tang of omega distress heavy in the air. 
He’s angry, beyond angry but he knows he can’t let that take over right now. 
“You’ll need to hold her.” Dr. Keller says, approaching where you’re sitting on the chair. You’re hunched over, arms clutched to your chest as you gasp and wheeze, almost hyperventilating.  “It might be easiest on the floor.” 
It’s like moving a stone statue as he takes you into his arms, muscles tense and joints locked as your body attempts to protect itself. He sinks to the floor with you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you to support you.
“Slow deep breaths.” Dr. Keller pushes your head against his chest. “Get her to copy you. If her blood pressure gets too high, or she passes out we might risk losing her to her omega, and that will be dangerous for all of us.” 
“I know.” Price says as he puts a hand on your head, keeping you against his chest. “I’ve seen it happen.” He presses his cheek against the top of your head, taking slow, even breaths. “Come on, sweetheart. Alpha’s got you. Need you to breathe for me.” 
Dr. Keller slips a blood pressure monitor around your arm, fighting the stiffness of your limbs as she sticks a pulse monitor to your chest. Price continues to speak to you, trying to get you to relax.
Slowly as the minutes pass, your breathing begins to slow. Dr. Keller monitors your blood pressure and heart rate, watching it slowly begin to come down as the presence of your alpha soothes your distressing omega. 
“There we go.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing your arm gently. 
Your breathing slows, but your breaths are still heavy and shaky as you slowly begin to sink into Price’s hold, your muscles slowly relaxing from their tense state. You let out a high-pitched whine as the discomfort begins to set in, tears leaking from your eyes. 
“I know.” Dr. Keller says gently. “You’re doing so good.” 
You begin to shake uncontrollably again, Price tightening his hold around you. His hand moves to the back of your neck instinctively, gently massaging the tense muscles. 
“It’s just the adrenaline.” Dr. Keller explains, moving to the closet and pulling out a stuffed bear. She kneels back down, working your arms away from your chest just enough that she can slip the bear into your arms. “Squeeze that for me.” She says, pushing on your arms until you take over, squeezing the bear to your chest. 
You’re still crying as the shaking slowly begins to subside, another whine leaving your lips. You continue to squeeze the bear to your chest, brows pulling into a frown. 
“Don’ feel good.” You slur, taking a deep breath in. 
“I know, honey, I know.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing your leg. “You did really good, coming down from that. Just keep breathing and relaxing for me.” 
You continue to follow Price’s breathing, trying to will your muscles to relax in your exhausted state. Price continues stroking the back of your neck, his heart thumping steadily beneath your ear. 
“One more squeeze on your arm and then I can take the monitor off.” Dr. Keller says, taking your blood pressure one more time. “It’s normal if she’s a bit achy and sore for a couple days.” She explains to Price. “She might be a bit disoriented later too. The best thing she can do is rest and someone should stay with her at all times just in case.” 
Price leans his chin against your head, fighting the anger building within him. Something happened to cause this, and he has an inkling as to what it was. He tightens his hold around you as you sink into him even more, the shaking starting to subside. 
“You don’t sedate for distress?” He asks as Dr. Keller removes the heart monitor and the blood pressure cuff from you. 
Dr. Keller shakes her head. “Sedation can make distress worse in some cases. It’s jarring and disorienting and in some cases the omega might wake up and continue distressing. It’s only useful in cases of an actual medical emergency, or if there’s no alpha to provide a sense of safety and the omega starts to take over. Then they become a danger to everyone around them and themselves.” 
“I know how devastating that can be.” He says, staring down at you. “The worst people in the world like to use omegas as shields and bait. Sometimes there’s no other way...they get caught in the middle of bullets flying and explosions. The scent of blood and fear around them.” He shakes his head. “Even if they survive that, even if you save them, it’s too much and you just lose them to the omega.” 
“It makes me sick.” Dr. Keller shakes her head. “They’re human beings just like you and me and they get treated like chattel. They’re seen as nothing but property and valued only by what they can be used for. Omegas are incredible beings. In ancient cultures they were revered, worshiped. Some cultures believed they were closest to the gods, and some thought they were gods sent to earth to bless those that deserved it. How far humanity has fallen.” 
“You have a lot of respect for omegas.” Price says. 
“Respect, love, care. Someone in this world has to. That’s why I became a specialist.” Dr. Keller smiles. “Didn’t think I’d end up here, but if I can help even just one omega, that’s more than enough for me.” She pushes herself up to stand. “Let’s get her back to the barracks. She’ll be more comfortable in a familiar atmosphere.” 
Price pushes himself to stand, keeping you close to his chest. Dr. Keller locks her office behind her before following Price as he carries you from the medical center. 
“She needs to eat.” Dr. Keller says. “She won’t feel like it, but she needs the calories after that. She might be emotional and resistant for a bit, but once she’s fully awake she’ll be alright. Well...that might be a bad way to describe it. If anything happens, or she starts getting worse. Call me.” 
“I will.” Price tightens his grip for a moment, pushing down the anger. He can’t let it take over yet. He still has you to take care of. He still has his omega to look after. 
Dr. Keller opens the door to the barracks for him, watching him walk down the hallway for a moment before turning and leaving. 
Price opens your door, carrying you into your room. He lays you on your bed, making sure you’re comfortable before he steps back out the door. The scent of distress is heavy on him still, as is his building anger. 
“MacTavish! Garrick!” He shouts, both of the beta’s doors opening almost immediately. “Have either of you seen Lieutenant Riley this morning?” 
Johnny frowns, both of them approaching the obviously agitated alpha. “Naw, I havenae seen him all mornin’.” 
“I thought he was training this morning.” Kyle says, a frown pulling at his brows too. “Did something happen?” 
He steps back into your room, the two betas following. Kyle sucks in a breath as he stares at you laying there, seemingly peacefully but the quickly suffocating scent tells him otherwise. He moves to your side, sinking down on the edge of the bed next to you. 
“Wha’ happened?” Johnny asks, a subtle tremble to his voice. 
“There was an incident this morning.” Price says, digging into the very depths of his training to keep his head on straight. “Sent her into distress.” 
“That bastard.” Johnny growls. “When I find him-” 
“Easy.” Price says, putting a hand on the beta’s chest to stop him from his rampage. “You and I are going to get some food and then come back here. Garrick, you stay with our girl. If anything starts to go wrong, you call Dr. Keller first, then me. Then, I’ve got ghost hunting to do.” 
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“Ye sure we’re alright, bein’ in her nest like this?” 
“It’s not much of a nest. Besides, our girl needs us.” 
“‘S cozy, that’s for sure.” 
“Could get used to it.” 
You have no control over the whine that’s pulled from your chest as you’re thrust into consciousness. You feel a bit like you’ve been hit by a truck, tossed from an airplane with no parachute, and like you just ran a marathon with no training, all at once. 
“Easy, love.” 
Hands smooth over your face, calluses rough on your burning skin. You feel hot, yet not warm enough at the same time. Your skin is prickling, needing freedom but to be held tighter than you already are. Someone is in front of you, their hand the one on your face. Someone else is behind you, wrapped around your back, arms keeping you held tightly against them. 
“Can ye open yer eyes for me, pretty girl?” 
Your eyelids feel like they’re made of lead. You don’t want to. You want to keep your eyes closed and sink back into oblivion where nothing hurts and you’re not confused. You let out another quiet whine before you force your eyes open, staring up at the blurry shape above you. 
“That’s it, lovely.” Soap says, his fingers still stroking your face. “That’s a good girl.” 
“Soap?” You whine, your voice cracking. 
He shushes you, tucking your face against his neck, letting you inhale his scent. “We've got ye, lamb.”
Another hand trails down your arm, gently squeezing. You're sore, even your breaths make your body ache. 
“You remember what happened, love?” Gaz says quietly, his hand the one gently stroking your arm. 
You inhale sharply, trying to clear the fog in your mind. “Ghost...” You breathe, the images coming to your mind but the words are lost. “Left me.” 
“Aye.” Soap says, sounding hurt and disappointed. “He was being a right bastard and left ye in the gym alone. Ye ran for the med center. Found the doctor.” 
“I...” You take a shaky breath, remembering the panic, the feeling of getting further and further from your body. “I was distressing.”
Gaz hums, wrapping his arms around you. “You distressed, love. Dr. Keller got Price in there in time, worked you through it.”
You let out a shaky breath, letting yourself go limp between them. It makes sense why you feel so awful, why your head is swimming. “What time is it?”
“Just after lunch.” Gaz says. 
“Gave us hell tryin’ tae feed ye.” Soap says. “Half fightin’ us, half out of it.” 
“Ghost?” You ask, almost afraid to find out the answer. 
“Got quite the verbal lashing from Cap'n Price.” Soap says. “Was gone for an hour yellin’ at him.”
It doesn't feel like enough, but you won't admit that out loud. You lean back against Gaz, letting both of their scents wash over you. 
“How do you feel, love?” Gaz asks. 
“Hurts.” You murmur, wrapping an arm around Soap. 
“I know. I'm sorry you had to go through this.” Gaz says pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “Just relax, love. We've got you.” 
You let your eyes slip closed again, relaxing between the two betas. You don't care that they're in your room, squished together in your bed with you. You need them and their support. 
You'd prefer having Price too, but you won’t dare say that out loud.
You fade in and out of sleep, letting them help you up a couple times as they move around, and move you around, helping you stretch to ease the ache in your joints and muscles. You wind up laying on Soap as Gaz goes to get dinner, his arms wrapped around your middle as you rest on his chest. 
“I am sorry about Simon.” He says quietly, lips brushing your forehead. 
“Don’t apologize for him.” You murmur. “It was partially my fault. I was egging him on.” 
“He shouldnae done tha’ though.” Soap says. “Leavin’ ye like that. ‘S dangerous, and not just for you.” 
“I did good. I got out without running into anyone.” You say, trying to reassure yourself before you lose it again. 
“You did perfectly.” A voice says, making you jump. 
Soap gently rubs your back as you blink up at Price. He’s standing in the doorway, holding two trays of food. You hadn’t even heard the door open. 
“Go on and eat in the mess, Johnny.” Price says, setting the trays on your desk. “I’ve got her for now.” 
Soap gently eases you off of him, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone with Price. He carries over a tray, setting it on your nightstand before kneeling down in front of you. He turns on your lamp, illuminating the room more than it was with your nightlight and the fading light outside. 
“How do you feel?” He asks, taking your hand in his. 
“Sore.” You say, squeezing his fingers. “But less than I was earlier. Moving around helped.” You sniffle, wiping the tear that escapes. “A bit weepy too.” 
Price smiles softly at you. “That’s expected. I’d be more worried if you weren’t.” He cups your face. “You did the right thing, taking the back exit and going for Dr. Keller’s office.” 
“Was closer.” You murmur. “Less risk of running into someone.” 
Price nods. “I doubt anyone would have stopped you, but that is still a risk.” He grabs the tray from the nightstand. “Eat up. I know you don’t feel like it, but you need it.” 
It’s almost like he read your mind. He moves to your desk, sitting in the chair. The food looks less appetizing than usual, but you know he’s right. Omegas expend a lot of energy while in distress. You’ll feel better if you eat. From the sounds of it, Gaz and Soap had attempted to feed you while you were still out of it, though you’re not sure how successful they were. 
You eat mostly in silence, but you don’t mind. You don’t have the brain power to think enough for a conversation, and you’re more than happy to just bask in Price’s calming presence. 
Gaz and Soap return after dinner, Price taking his leave again. You’re sure he’s busy, especially after this incident, but you can’t help but feel the sting of it just a bit. He had helped you through your distress, calming you down. You want him to lay next to you, to hold the back of your neck and remind you that he’s here, that he’s got you. 
That he’ll never leave you like that. 
Instead you curl up between Soap and Gaz, letting the calming present of betas relax you back to sleep. 
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You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up. Soap is gone, but Gaz is still pressed against your back, breathing evenly. You grab one of the phones off the nightstand, glancing at the time. It’s just past one a.m. You’re feeling thirsty again, and like you need to stretch your legs. Gaz is coiled around you, and you’re not sure how to get out without waking him up. You don’t want to disturb him, and you want a second to breathe and clear your head without the influence of his scent. 
You carefully roll away enough to grab the strawberry pillow off the floor from where it likely rolled after Soap left. You slowly ease it between your bodies until he’s wrapped around the pillow, settling with a sigh. You let out a quiet breath, rising from the bed slowly and padding quietly to the door. Your eyes are on him as you unlock it, slipping out quickly. You leave it cracked open before sneaking down the hallway towards the rec room. 
It’s quiet in the barracks, almost eerily so as you slip into the empty room, heading for the fridge. You stand there, half debating on a beer instead of water. Perhaps a little alcohol might numb at least some of the ache in your joins, or at least clear your mind a bit. You hate the taste of beer, though, and Gaz would know immediately. 
You sigh, grabbing a water, the back of your neck prickling as you stand up. You close the fridge door, whirling around, a scream caught in your throat. 
“Are you going to scream?” Ghost’s voice rumbles from behind his mask. He’s standing just inside the rec room, blocking the doorway. 
“Are you going to hurt me?” You ask, flattening yourself against the fridge. 
“Why would I do that?” He has the gaul to sound almost confused. 
“You seemed pretty eager to this morning.” You say, clutching the water bottle to your chest. “You abandoned me.” 
“I didn’t. I was right behind you the whole time, until you went into the med center.” He explains, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. 
“Well how was I supposed to know that?” You snap, getting agitated by the alpha and how he’s treated you thus far. “You just up and left me by myself in a vulnerable place. How was I supposed to know you were still there? For all I knew you were halfway back to the barracks. Was I just supposed to blindly trust that you would be there, that you would follow me if I decided to brave walking past a bunch of worked up alphas? I can’t trust that. I can’t trust you like that.” 
“Why not?” 
“Because you haven’t given me a reason to!” You almost shout it, just managing to keep control over your volume so you don’t accidentally wake the others. “You don’t like me, you keep treating me like shit. Just going off of that, I wouldn’t put it past you to just up and leave me to fend for myself.” 
“I wouldn’t.” 
“But you did! You did today! You put me in danger! I distressed because of you! I haven’t distressed since-” You cut yourself off, deflating a bit at your near slip of words. You’re not sure you want to open that can of worms, allow for that kind of vulnerability with the alpha that had nearly killed you earlier. But, maybe you do need that kind of vulnerability. Maybe he needs it. “Since I was taken to the institute.” You finish, feeling yourself deflating a bit. 
Tears prick at your eyes, his own figure visibly deflating a bit. That scent is back, the one from a couple nights ago when you had run into him in a similar situation. You want out of here, you want back to the safety of doors around you, doors that could be opened and Ghost pulled from you easily if needed. 
“Move.” You say, bravely squaring up to the alpha blocking you in. 
He says your name like a warning, not budging an inch. 
“Move!” You shout, going for his middle with your shoulder, but he’s faster, catching you before you can hit him. 
“Calm down.” He growls, trying to hold your squirming form. 
One scream. One scream and the others would be on you. How quickly could Ghost act, though? How quickly could his hand close around your throat and squeeze, or maybe even twist? 
“Calm down!” He growls again, forcing you backwards. 
Your feet slip on the tile, sending you back onto your back. You wince at the jolt to your already sore body, the air leaving your lungs in a harsh gasp. Ghost sinks down to the floor next to the couch, leaning against the side of it like he can’t bear to hold himself up anymore. 
“It was a long time ago.” He starts, the tiredness evident in his voice. His eyes are on the floor in front of you, not even looking up as you push yourself up onto your elbows. “Back when I was a newly made Sergeant. My first deployment, first mission. We were hunting a man, real scum of the earth, chasing him through the jungle.” 
You almost want to stop him, unsure if he can even be telling you this, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. 
“Things got complicated when he swept through a village, picked up all the local omegas. He was using them as human shields. We cornered him in some run down shack. Him, his men, and the poor omegas. The commanding officer in charge of the mission started hostage negotiations, tried to get him to let the omegas go. He knew he’d lost, he’d never get out of there without being captured or killed.” Ghost shakes his head, letting out a heavy breath. “So he agreed. The commanding officer had to have known. We all should have known.” 
He goes silent, the quiet of the barracks and the world outside almost eerie. You’re sitting up now, almost holding your breath in anticipation. You’re not sure he’s ever spoken this much to you at once before, much less something that’s obviously so vulnerable, and potentially confidential. 
“He sent the omegas out in all directions, running straight at us. We were ordered to stay where we were. We couldn’t run out there, we couldn’t help them.” His hands close into fists, his scent souring. “They started firing at the omegas. There was one running straight at me. I still remember her, the look on her face. The fear in her eyes as she raced towards me.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I remember how the blood felt splattering on my face. The bullet shot right past my ear. She fell close enough I could have reached out and touched her. Clean shot right through the back of her head.” 
He shakes his head, finally looking at you. Tears have gathered in your eyes as you stare at him. His scent is sour, tinged with the tanginess that you had smelled a couple nights ago when he ran into you coming back from the rec room.
Fear. 
That scent is fear. 
“I still think about it. What if I had disobeyed orders? What if I had just reached out to help her? Would she have made it? Could we have brought at least one omega back to that village? Would the bullet have hit me instead?” He lets out a long breath. “I still have nightmares about it. See it clear as day, that look on her face seconds before her life ended.” 
You’re moving, crawling closer to him. He doesn’t move, not even a blink or a flinch as you get closer and closer until you’re in front of him, close enough to see the light blonde color of his lashes. He still won’t look at you, his gaze on the floor as you sit in front of him. 
“You saw me.” You say softly, not needing him to explain further. “Instead of some omega, it was me in your dream. You’re afraid. That’s why you treat me the way you do. You’re scared if you get close to me, if you allow me into the pack, allow me into this life, that something like that will happen to me. That’s why you were afraid that night, when I went to the rec room to grab water. You woke up from a nightmare about me.” 
He doesn’t say anything, but you don’t need him to. You’re beginning to understand him now. One moment of vulnerability and the complex specter that is Ghost is beginning to become clearer and clearer to you. He’s beginning to take shape, forming out of the mists of confusion and aggression that have plagued you since your arrival in his life. 
“That doesn’t make what you did okay.” You say, breaking the eerie silence again. “It doesn’t make the way you treat me okay, but I guess...I guess I can understand why now. Why you’re so hard on me, why you resist my mere existence here. You don’t have to like me, I’d just like you to be nice to me a little bit. You’re never going to convince Soap not to pursue anything, so, you’re just going to have to get used to me being around.” 
The corners of his eyes crease. It’s a half a second of movement, but you manage to catch it. He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, eyes emotionless as they usually are when they look at you. 
“I still don’t forgive you for what you did.” You say, staring up at him. “And I don’t trust you,” You pull your knees up to your chest. “But I suppose I was also a bit at fault, saying those things to you.” 
“I deserved it.” He says. “I was being a dick.” 
Your brows raise as you stare at him. “Are you...apologizing?” 
“Don’t rub it in.” He says, the warning clear in his tone. 
“Well, I guess it’s a start.” You say. “I should probably get back to bed before Gaz notices I’m gone.” 
Ghost lets out a huff. “I’m surprised you escaped without him noticing.” 
You shrug, pushing yourself up to stand slowly. “He’s snuggling a stuffed strawberry right now, so...that probably says a lot about one of us and I’m not sure which is worse.” 
“Come on.” Ghost motions with his head. “Last thing we need is another panic at 2 am.” 
“Another panic?” You ask, dropping your voice to a whisper as you leave the rec room. 
Ghost chuckles. “You’ll have to ask Johnny about that one.” 
You stare at him for a moment as you stand in front of your cracked door. “Goodnight, Ghost.” 
He nods to you before you slip in, closing and locking the door. He stands there, listening to the bed shift as you crawl back into Kyle’s hold. He can picture the way the beta’s limbs coil around you like a snake. Would you lie facing him and cling to him like a koala? Or would you prefer facing away from him, letting him envelop you in a feeling of security and protection? 
Ghost shakes his head, inhaling the faint whiff of your scent still in the air before he turns, staring at his door for a moment before moving back down the hall, slipping into Johnny’s room instead. 
NEXT ->
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smileysuh · 10 months ago
Text
real talk
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🌙 starring. Mark Lee x afab!Reader
🔮 preview.“You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, reader has a hard time cumming, oral (f/m receiving), Mark is a MUNCH, deep throating, fingering, masturbation, use of toys/vibrator, dirty talk, praise, Mark is a simp, sex realism, overthinking during sex, mentions of sexual favours in return for affection, a string of bad ex-lovers, breast worship, creampies, aftercare, finger sucking, drunkenness, etc… I pet names: (hers) sunshine. (his) puppy boy.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 19.4k
🍭 aus. Restaurant au, line chef!Mark, slow burn, coworkers to lovers, fuck girl who looks like sunshine meets a serial monogamist who looks like a fuckboy, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I wanted to touch on some realism to kick off the year. Not everything is as easy during sex as it appears in fanfic/p*rn, so I wanted to make something that might be more true to the real experience of afabs who overthink and need extra help to cum- I hope maybe this fic can normalize girls who need some extra machine power to get off ;)
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One:
Mark has only been working at his new restaurant for two weeks, but he’s already fallen in love with the place. Morning shifts have been good for him.  With the help of his favorite expo girl - who always takes the time to explain small details and things he’s been messing up on - he’s already gotten used to the menu. Every day feels better and better.
“This tuna is looking so good, Mark,” you grin, inspecting the plate. 
When he’d first been hired, the fish he’d cut had come out mangled, but after talking him through it, you’d both realized it had been a knife issue. Sharpening his blade had led to Mark perfecting his slices, and now, he eagerly awaits your praises when he puts his food up in the expo window. 
Mark’s eyes follow you as you dart off toward the bar, the plate of tuna balanced perfectly in your hand. The new chef can’t help the smile that works its way onto his lips, and he leans forward, hand flat on the cutting board station in front of him.
“This tuna is looking so good, Mark,” Hyuck’s annoying voice snaps him out of his trance, and Mark turns to look at the man next to him. “God, can you two make it any more obvious that you’re into each other?”
“She’s just doing her job,” Mark assures the other line chef, but he can feel his skin heating at the idea.
“Sure she is. But she doesn’t compliment my cooking as much as she does yours.” Hyuck crosses his arms over his chest, letting out a sigh as his gaze shifts to the view through the expo line. You’re at the bar now, chatting with the man who you’ve just served. However, you’re taking longer than normal, and you’re smiling a lot too.
“No fucking way,” Hyuck breathes, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes. “That guy is hitting on her.”
“Is he?” Mark also dips his head toward the expo window, eager for a look.
“Yeah, mans just slipped her his number,” Hyuck laughs. “That’s our little Sunshine though, isn’t it? This restaurant is her playground.”
“What do you mean?” Mark asks.
“Just that she’s quite popular,” Hyuck brushes it off as you approach the expo line again. “Did you get a number, sweet thing?”
“Why, you jealous?” You grin, holding up the slip of paper with digits on it. 
“You wish,” Hyuck scoffs, but Mark gets the feeling there’s something else going on between the two of you, something unspoken. He’s still getting used to the dynamic of the restaurant, and in work spaces like this, relationships aren’t uncommon. He wonders what history you have with Hyuck, wonders what chance he has with you- wonders if it’s even a good idea.
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Two
“Luna never runs her own food,” Sumi notes, standing with you by the entrance to the restaurant while you watch the tall waitress lean against the expo window. “I know that our new chef is cute, but, damn.”
“She can do what she wants,” you laugh, wiping down menus. “Makes my job easier.”
“You know, it’s kind of felt like you and Mark have some sort of understanding,” Sumi grins, moving close enough that your hips touch by the host station. “He watches you a lot.”
“Does he?” Your gaze moves back to the expo line.
“Uh huh, almost as much as Hyuck does- which, by the way, you sure did a number on him.”
“Hyuck will get over it, he’s a fuck boy,” you wave your hand. “I’m great at attracting that kind of guy.”
“Do you get fuck boy vibes from Mark?” Sumi wonders, tapping her pen against the top of her Ipad thoughtfully.
“He’s definitely cute enough to be a womanizer, don’t you think?”
“Key word being cute,” Sumi points out. “I don’t know, he doesn't give me fuck boy vibes like the other line chefs do.”
“Well, he’s roommates with Jeno, isn’t he?” Your eyes move to the bar. Jeno’s a night bartender, but his close friend, Renjun is working today. “Jeno’s a fuck boy, he got Hyuck and Jaemin jobs here. They’re both fuck boys. It would make sense if Mark was that kind of guy too.”
“I’m still not convinced,” Sumi states, crossing an arm over her chest. “Speaking of men though- whatever happened to that guy who gave you his number the other day? Are you actually considering a date with him?”
“I already had a date with him,” you admit. 
“Yikes, from the way you haven’t mentioned it at all, I’d guess it didn’t go so well?”
“Meh,” you shrug your shoulders. “He won’t be getting a second date.”
“How many first dates have you been on this year?” Sumi asks. “Didn’t you say it was like… a lot?”
“Too many to count,” you giggle. 
“So what’s the deal with that? Like- what’s your type? I know you were seeing Hyuck for a little while, how come that didn’t work?”
“It just didn’t,” you say, looking down at the menus you’ve wiped clean. “I try not to think about my failures too much.”
“Really? But you could learn so much from them,” Sumi frowns. “I mean- look at me and Doyoung. I was never into the more serious types, always went for fuck boys and younger guys- but after some soul searching, I realized I needed someone older who had their shit together.”
“You also have a thing for guys in powerful positions, and Doyoung is literally one of our managers,” you point out.
“Well, I’m still a work in progress,” Sumi winks. “Anyways- think about it. If you look at your dating patterns, you might be surprised by what you find.”
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Three
There’s nothing like the air outside after being in a hot kitchen for a few hours. The lunch rush is finally over, and after having a 20 top that ordered an insane amount of food with an even crazier amount of modifications and allergies, Mark is ready to take a massive puff from his vape pen.
He stands by the back exit to the restaurant, looking out at the cars on the street as he takes a long drag. As he inhales, the door behind Mark opens, and he turns to come face-to-face with you.
The shock of seeing you makes him choke a little, and he begins to cough out a large puff of smoke. Mark’s lungs burn, and his skin feels even hotter, enflamed by the embarrassment of you seeing him take a crappy hit when in reality, he’s a vaping veteran. 
“You good?” you ask, reaching out and gently rubbing his back as you step past him.
“Yeah, I, uh-” Mark’s entire body tingles at the physical contact. “Sorry, you just surprised me.”
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” you grin, stopping in front of him. He notices the way your eyes go to his vape pen, and he immediately holds it out to you.
“Want some?”
“I mean, if you’re offering.” You reach out and accept the sleek black vape. “What’s the flavor?”
“Uh… cotton candy?” God, Mark feels like a fool, especially when you raise a brow at him. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”
“Didn’t peg you as a sweet tooth type,” you grin, bringing the refillable device to your lips. Mark watches you take a drag, focusing on your mouth and the way you look sucking on something- he starts to imagine what you’d look like sucking on something else, something substantially bigger. 
As you exhale, you cough a little, and Mark wonders if you’re doing that to make him feel better about his screw-up a moment ago- or maybe you simply don’t vape often, he’s not too sure. 
“Thanks,” you say, still coughing as you hand the vape back to Mark. Your fingers brush gently as he accepts it from you, and as Mark brings the device to his mouth, he’s extremely aware of the fact that your lips had just been where his now are. 
He wonders if it means anything that you’d be so willing to swap spit like this, even on something as innocent as a vape pen. 
“How long are you here till?” you ask, breaking him from his daze. 
“Started at seven am, eight-hour shift, should be off around three when the night cross-over guys come in,” Mark explains. 
“Any fun plans for tonight?” you continue to press. “It is a Friday after all.”
“No plans, will probably just go home, make some food, and watch Netflix all night… what about you?”
You sigh. “No hot dates, unfortunately. Will probably do the same as you. Do you have any good show recommendations? I’ve been looking for something new.”
“I mean, it depends, what are you into?” Mark asks, eager to hear more about your tastes, your likes and dislikes- he knows so little about you, mostly things related to work. He’s curious about what you do in your downtime, and he’s grateful he has an opportunity like this to get to know you even a little bit better.
As you part your lips to respond, the back door swings open, and Hyuck steps out, already mid-puff of his neon orange vape. 
“Oh,” the line chef grins, exhaling through his nose and flashing a grin, “Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” you respond quickly, and Mark notes the shift in your energy, “I was just leaving actually.”
“See you later,” Mark offers, watching you hurry off. 
“Classic her,” Hyuck sighs, coming to stand next to Mark.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s a runner, that one,” Hyuck takes another puff from his vape.
“So you two definitely used to date,” Mark states. The interaction he’s just witnessed verifies his suspicion, and since they’re technically outside of work/the kitchen, Mark feels able to actually discuss this now.
“I don’t know if I’d call it dating,” Hyuck cocks his head to the side, eyes still fixed on you where you’re crossing the street a couple hundred feet away. “Look, do you want real talk? You wanna know about your favorite expo girl?”
“Yeah, I wanna know.” Mark lifts his vape to his lips, readying himself for whatever is about to come out of Hyuck’s mouth.
“I know she looks like sugar and sunshine, but I hate to burst your bubble Mark- she’s a bit of a fuck girl, that one.” 
“It takes one to know one,” Mark points out.
“Touche, but to be fair, I never claimed to be anything other than a guy who likes pussy, and little miss sunshine knew that when we started hooking up a few months ago.” Hyuck lets out another large puff of smoke into the air. “Look, I said I’d give you real talk so here it is. She’s got a lot of expectations. Girl reads those horny romance books-”
“Erotica.”
“Yeah, that’s it, erotica.” Hyuck nods to himself. “Well, she reads erotica, and her ideas about fucking are kind of hard to make real. She’s too in her head all of the time. Apparently - and don’t repeat this anywhere - but apparently no guy she’s fucked has ever made her actually cum. She has this thing where someone told her that if a guy doesn’t make you cum, he doesn’t add to your body count, so allegedly her body count is zero and she’s a virgin, but we both know it’s a lot higher than that.” 
“The whole body count thing doesn’t phase me,” Mark says quietly, although the wheels in his head are spinning.
“Sure it doesn’t,” Hyuck scoffs. “Just listen, if you’re into her, it’s not going to work out. She’s not for beginners like you.”
“Beginners like me?” Mark side eyes the line chef.
“You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”
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Four
“Mark?” you ask, looking at the takeout bowl in front of you.
“Yeah?” he leans forward, lips parting as he waits for your judgment.
“Didn’t they order the spicy yogurt on the side?” You push the rice bowl forward, pointing at the lines of orange tinted cream that cover the veggies. 
“Shit,” Mark cusses, grabbing the chit-paper receipt and scanning it. “There were like, three other modifications, I didn’t even see the yogurt on the side.”
“It’s okay,” you assure him. “It’s takeout, and there’s pretty much no one in the restaurant, so you have time to make another… besides, I’ll just take this one as my lunch.”
One of the perks of the job is getting to take home the food that’s not correct. You’d been dreading going to the grocery store, your fridge empty of easy meals, but now you don’t have to make the trek, and you’re more than happy about it.
“You know, Mark, you’re my favorite new chef.” He’s also the only new chef, and you’ve been reaping the rewards of minor fuck ups the past two weeks. 
Mark, however, doesn’t seem to note your teasing, and he offers you a genuine smile. “You’re my favorite expo girl.”
“Yeah?” you grin. “And why’s that?”
“You’re really nice about things I mess up,” Mark’s eyes shift to the dragon bowl you’re packing up. “Like, you point things out, and you turn them good. As you said, it’s an easy fix, I have the time, and now you get to eat that.” 
“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, that’s for sure,” you laugh. 
“You’re also pretty happy most days, always makes me happy to come in and see our Little Miss Sunshine.” 
“Jeeze, not you calling me that pet-name too,” you roll your eyes. Hyuck had taken to calling you that a few months ago, and somehow the title had stuck. Mark was the only chef using your real name, but it looks like those days might already be behind you.
“It fits,” Mark assures you. “I think it’s cute.”
“Does it fit because I’m cute?” 
You notice the way Mark immediately swallows thickly, his skin turning a pretty shade of pink. “Uh- I mean, yeah,” his voice cracks, and he fiddles with his sleeves, pushing them up to his elbows, “you’re cute-”
“Oh my God-” you stare at his forearms, which are usually covered by his chef coat. “Have you always had all those tattoos?!”
“Did you really never notice these?” Mark looks down at his arms, lifting them so you can see the details.
“I have never noticed them,” you confirm, leaning forward. “Damn, how many tattoos do you have?!”
“A lot?” Mark’s tattoos are patchwork style, all black. They litter his forearms, and you wonder how high up the markings go- you wonder if his chest is covered, or his back- what about his legs?
“I need a tattoo tour,” you insist.
“I mean… I can’t show you all of them-” Mark says sheepishly. 
“Start with that one,” you point at a tattoo of three letters near his inner elbow, “What’s SSG mean?”
“So uh- the first restaurant I worked in, a few of us dishwashers worked our way into the kitchen with no formal training or anything- just started at the bottom, and went up from there. One of us came up with the idea of being the Soapy Suds Gang, like- dishwashers to chefs. Was at that restaurant from the age of fifteen to twenty, and when it closed down cuz the owners just didn’t wanna be in the business anymore, me and all the others got the matching SSG tattoo.”
Mark is adorable. Like, shockingly so. It’s such a stupid yet endearing story- and for some reason, it feels so on-brand for Mark. 
He begins to tell you about a few other tattoos. There’s a shotgun to commemorate his years playing Call of Duty online with friends. A cartoon puppy because apparently his mom never let him get a dog - something about him not being able to handle it if the dog ever died - so when he turned eighteen, he got a dog that could never bite the bullet, etched into his skin with black ink. 
All the marks have meaning, stories that make up the groundwork of Mark’s life. 
“What about that one?” you ask, noting a King of Hearts tattoo that he’d skipped over.
“Oh, uh…” Mark rubs the back of his neck shyly. “My ex-girlfriend wanted a Queen of Hearts tattoo, so I got this one, and… I mean, I don’t regret it, I was with the girl for three years- but, it’s not a tattoo I talk about too often.”
“Three years?” you ask in shock. “You were with your last girlfriend for three years?”
“Why do you sound so shocked?”
“It’s just- I mean,” you lick your lips, leaning in so Mark’s the only one who can hear you, “I hate to say it, Mark, but you look like a total fuck boy.”
“I’m really not,” Mark admits. 
“Even before your last ex?”
“Even before,” the line chef confirms. “I’ve got two ex-girlfriends. The last one ended about a year ago, dated her from age twenty-two to twenty-five. Had a girlfriend from when I was sixteen to twenty-one-”
“So a three-year relationship and a five-year relationship?” 
This gossip keeps getting juicier and juicier. 
“Yeah. The first one moved to another country to teach English, and I’ve never been that into long distance. We tried to make it work, but we agreed the best thing was to let each other go. Then the last girl decided she wanted more from life than some line chef so…” Mark trails off and you feel your heart hurt for him. “Anyways, what about you? How many relationships have you had?”
“A lot more than you,” you answer quickly, although, that’s only if you count one-night stands, flings, and situationships, but you won’t go into those details with Mark right now. “I mean… are you looking for anything right now?”
“What do you mean?” Mark cocks his head to the side.
“You didn’t hear it from me, but… a few of the waitresses are into you,” you whisper.
“Really?” he looks past you at the restaurant, and you see him trail Luna with his eyes. “That’s nice and everything, but waitresses really aren’t my type.”
“Then what’s your type?”
“Expo girls.” 
His words hit you in your chest, and you can feel your pulse quicken immediately.
“I mean-” Mark’s skin has returned to that pretty pink colour. “My first girlfriend- the five-year one, she was the expo girl when I met her- we got close cuz we spent so much time together. I didn’t mean you- I wasn’t trying to hit on you or anything- not that I don’t think you’re cute, cuz you’re definitely cute- fuck.”
You watch him, smiling and completely amused. It appears you’d read the new line chef all wrong. He’s not a fuck boy, he’s a lover boy, and you kind of adore that about him.
“I should uh- I need to remake this dragon bowl-” Mark turns away from you, and you watch him scurry off to the fridge to grab vegetables. 
You’re kind of hoping to tease him so more when he returns, but before he does, Doyoung appears from the back, and he waves you over. “It’s been dead for half an hour,” your manager notes, “you’re cut. Head home, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
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Five
Mark hasn’t been able to stop thinking about your conversation. All night, he’d had you on his mind- and he’d kind of been hoping to get to talk to you today, but you have the day shift and this is one of his first nights scheduled.
Even so, Mark arrives to work thirty minutes early just on the off chance he’ll catch you, and as he’s waiting outside the backdoor, hitting his vape, his hopes come true.
You step out of the back of the restaurant, looking down at your phone. The jacket you’re wearing today is vibrant in contrast to your all-black uniform, and the comfy sneakers you always put on after your shift in flats are beginning to look a little worn out now that winter is almost over. 
“Hi,” Mark says, drawing your attention.
“Oh,” you put your phone into your pocket, offering him a smile. “Hey- you just starting?”
“In ten minutes or so,” the line chef nods. “I uh- I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”
“Apologize for what?” You cock your head to the side. 
“All of it?” Mark suggests.
You laugh, and the sound does things to Mark that he’ll never be able to express. “Seriously, we’re all good,” you assure him. “I think you’re pretty cute too, so, don’t worry about any of it.”
Mark’s mouth feels dry, and it’s not just from the vaping. He fiddles with the device in his hand, working up the courage to say what’s on his mind. “I was wondering- I mean, it sounds like you’re still on the market and all- so I was thinking, maybe, if you’d like- maybe we can go out sometime, or something- but no pressure.”
Your smile widens, and you step closer to him. “What would going out with you look like?”
“Honestly…” Mark swallows thickly, “it would look more like staying in. Since we both work in a restaurant- or maybe it’s just a ‘me thing’, but I’m not super into drinks as a first date, or even food- I’m a bit of a homebody. I’d love for you to just come over, watch some netflix, talk- that sort of shit.”
You look him up and down, and Mark’s body tenses as he waits for your response.
“That actually sounds pretty nice,” you admit. “Here, give me your hand.”
Mark holds out his palm, watching you pull out a Sharpie from your pocket. You write your phone number across his skin. “Careful,” you say, as you draw the last digit, “Don’t wash this off or anything.”
“I won’t,” he assures you, already planning on taking a picture of it with his phone just in case. 
“I should get going, but yeah- text me when your shift is over and we can figure something out.” 
“You got it,” Mark grins, unable to hold in his excitement any longer. “Have a good night.”
“You too.” 
With one final exchange of eye contact that makes Mark’s heart lurch in his chest, you walk off, the line chef’s eyes following you all the way out of sight. 
As he turns to head inside, Mark bumps into Hyuck. “Don’t go in just yet,” Hyuck insists, “stay out here and vape with me for a minute.”
It’s hard for Mark to focus on anything Hyuck is saying about the afternoon rush, but he manages to nod and make sounds of affirmation while his coworker rants about some party of fifteen that walked in and only ordered appetizers. 
“Mark, you’re not paying attention,” Hyuck sighs.
“Sorry, I’m just kind of-” Mark swallows the lump in his throat, “yeah, I’m distracted.”
“Got a hot date?”
“What?” Mark looks up.
“Someone wrote their digits on your hand,” Hyuck grabs at Mark’s wrist, “let’s see-”
Mark tries his best to pull away, but Hyuck’s already assessing the phone number. After a moment, the younger man lets go, his mouth forming a firm line. “I warned you about her.”
Mark’s surprised that Hyuck - who has the memory of a goldfish most days - clearly recognizes your phone number. 
“I told you she’s not for beginners.” 
“Yeah, well, I don’t have to listen to you,” Mark insists. “And not everything is about fucking. She’s gonna come over, we’re gonna watch movies- nothing has to happen. I just want to know her better.”
“Lover boy,” Hyuck scoffs, “she’s going to eat you up, and spit you back out.”
“And if she does, then that’s my choice,” Mark says firmly. “I know she fucked you over or whatever, but that doesn’t mean anything to me, Hyuck. I’m sorry, but I really don’t care about what happened between the two of you.”
“Ouch, dude.”
“If she’s as bad as you say, then you can say you told me so when this is all over. Deal?”
“Deal.”
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Six
“So this is Jeno’s famous fuck pad,” you tease, stepping into Mark’s apartment and looking around. 
“Uh, he doesn’t actually bring girls here that often,” Mark says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “He likes to go to their place, makes it easier to run than kicking a girl out the next morning, you know?”
“I suppose that makes sense,” you nod… you usually fuck guys in their homes for the same reason. “It’s a nice place.”
“Thanks, my ex had a lot to do with the decor and shit.” Now that Mark mentions it, the vibe definitely doesn’t scream ‘boy’, and it especially doesn't scream ‘home of a line chef and bartender.’ 
The cream-colored couch in the living room has pretty sage pillows, there’s a tasteful rug under a circular coffee table. On the table are three candles varying in size, as well as a design book that you’d bet has never been opened or looked at in detail by the men who live here.
It’s a comfortable home, but you wonder what it feels like for Mark to live in a space that constantly reminds him of an ex who ditched him for not having his own shit together.
“I didn’t realize Jeno was a tidy guy,” you note, thinking back to the line of dirty cups he always allows to build up in the bar dish area. 
“He’s not, but I am.” Mark enters the living room, and he takes a seat on the couch, kicking his legs up onto a small puff stool next to the coffee table. “I guess when you work on the line, you’re used to doing little clean-up jobs to keep everything smooth. I don’t mind moving two or three beer cans to the sink every day if it means there aren’t any piles building.” 
So he’s a sexy line chef, with tattoos, who likes long-term relationships, and also cleans up his home? Mark really is a catch amongst flounders.
“Are you going to come sit?” Mark asks, noting the way you stand at the edge of the room. “Or, shit, should I offer you a drink first? We’ve got beer, or I could make you a cocktail or something-”
“I’m good, just… getting used to this.” 
It feels kind of odd to be with Mark in a casual setting. You’ve only ever seen him in a professional manner, with an expo station between you both- now, Mark is right in front of you, and as you sit on the couch next to him, you’re hyper-aware of the way your thighs almost touch.
“So… Netflix?” you ask.
“Yeah,” Mark grabs the remote, the sleeve of his hoodie pushed up so you can see his forearms. 
“You still haven’t given me a full tattoo tour,” you tease, reaching out to gently trace the puppy etched against his skin.
“Maybe that’s a date number two sort of thing,” Mark suggests, tugging the fabric down to cover his skin.
Your grin widens. “Do I make you nervous, puppy boy?” 
“Definitely,” he lets out a shy laugh, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob with the effort of swallowing. “So uh… what do you wanna watch?”
You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the couch. “Surprise me.”
“Well, there’s this anime I’ve been wanting to get into-” Mark finds the show in his ‘to watch’ list.
“Let's do it.”
“Really? You’re down?”
“Uh huh, I’m not that picky,” you nod, offering him a smile.
“It can be…” he starts the first episode, “like- if you wanna keep doing this sort of thing, it could be our show.”
“That actually sounds nice,” you admit. You suppose it shouldn’t be a shock that Mark is thinking long term- you do work together after all, but when you’d been seeing Hyuck, every day was a question of longevity. Would he call? Would he not call?
Hyuck never talked in definitives. He never made promises. The only true thing you could count on was seeing him at work three of five days of the week when your schedules aligned, and he never locked himself in for any more than that. 
“Should I-” Mark licks his lips, “I mean, finding a show was way easier than I thought it would be. Do you want a drink? I’ve got chips?”
“I’m okay, but if you want something, you should grab it.”
“I’m good if you’re good,” Mark mutters, leaning back against the couch. Your shoulders are touching, and you’re already finding it difficult to focus on the tv screen as the anime begins to play.
You’re aware of each breath, each slight shift of Mark’s body. “Are you comfortable?” he asks after a short while.
“I mean, we could probably find a more comfortable position than this one,” you note. 
“Like… do you wanna cuddle?”
“If you want to, I’d be up for that.”
“Okay, one sec,” Mark turns, grabbing at the back cushion of the couch. He tosses it to the side. “I can big spoon you.”
In under a minute, Mark is settling behind you, pillows are adjusted, and a gentle hand finds your hip. You wiggle slightly, trying to get snug against the line chef’s chest. 
“Is this good?” he asks, his breath ghosting by your ear.
“It’s nice, but let me just…” you grab his hand, threading your fingers and bringing it up to your chest, so you’re truly wrapped in his embrace. You can feel his heart against your spine, and you can hear the way his breath catches. “That’s better,” you let out a sigh of relief. 
The anime is fun, but you’re much too focused on Mark. Something tells you he’s quite focused on you as well, and finally, your patience snaps. You roll onto your back, looking up at him.
“You good?” he prompts.
“Uh huh. Just thinking.”
“About?”
You shrug. “I guess maybe I’m just wondering what work is going to be like tomorrow.”
“Hopefully busy.”
You laugh at how innocent Mark can be. “I mean in terms of cuddling with you tonight, then working together in the morning.”
“I mean… how was it with Hyuck when you two were seeing each other?” 
Your heart clenches. “Oh… he uh… he told you about that, huh?”
“Mentioned it once or twice.”
“All good things, I hope?”
“For the most part,” Mark nods. “But just so you know- I don’t take everything Hyuck says seriously. You two had something going on, but every relationship is different. I’m sure you have your own side to the story. I know you’re a good person - that’s what my heart tells me at least - so that’s what I’m going off of.”
You stare up at the line chef. The man you’d pegged as a fuck boy, who is turning out to be the farthest thing from a womanizer that you’ve ever met.
You can’t help but reach up and cup his face. There aren’t words that come to mind, but you hope your expression shows your gratitude for his kindness.
Mark’s gaze dips to your mouth, and you watch the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on his slightly. “So no pressure or anything,” he says, voice cracking, “but uh… can I kiss you?”
“You can kiss me,” you confirm, staying still and waiting for the precious man to make his move. Part of you is scared to take control- you’re worried about scaring Mark off, like you’d scare off a wild bird with one wrong muscle twitch. 
You’re still cupping his face, and Mark mirrors the act, gently cupping your cheek. He looks down at you, searching your eyes for a moment. You wonder if he’s looking for any hesitation, any sign that you regret your affirmative answer. Then he looks at your lips, and you can see some of the tension leave his body.
In fact, you see the exact moment Mark decides to give in to his desires. His lips part ever so slightly, his brown eyes shyly meeting your own as he begins to move in closer-
As his mouth presses to your own, you realize this might be the softest kiss a man has ever bestowed upon you. He’s not trying to shove his tongue down your throat- not biting at your lip and asking for entrance. It’s a simple brush of lips on lips, and it leaves you wanting more.
Your hand finds the back of his neck, and you drag him closer, letting out a small mewl. You capture his bottom lip between your own, suckling on it gently-
Mark pulls away, and your eyes open. You’re disappointed, but when you notice Mark breathing heavily, your annoyance dissipates.
“Was that okay?” you ask, worrying that maybe you’d been going too fast for the soft man.
“Yeah- better than okay,” he assures you. 
“Can we… can you kiss me again?”
“Uh huh,” he nods, leaning back down to press his lips against your own. His hand finds your hip, and you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss is just as gentle as the first, but the passion begins to burn brighter with each passing second.
No one has ever kissed you like this.
You can’t explain it- but in a matter of moments, your attraction to Mark has grown tenfold. 
When he breaks away from you for a second time, you’re both breathing heavily. You open your eyes to stare up at the pretty line chef, watching him swallow thickly.
 “Should we uh… should we keep paying attention to the show?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “Yeah, we should.” You roll onto your side again, and Mark settles against your back. He tucks you closer, his fingers threading through yours. 
It’s impossible to focus now, and you begin to wiggle slightly, pressing your ass back against the front of his jeans.
“Are you uncomfortable?” Mark asks, letting go of your hand to grab your hip, steadying you.
“I’m fine- I’m just…” - unbelievably horny - “you’re a good kisser.”
He lets out a small laugh. “Thanks. I liked kissing you too.”
“So…” you look over your shoulder at him, “wanna kiss me again?”
Mark grins, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips.
As with the first two times, Mark pulls away much too fast for your liking.
Your head is spinning. You’ve never experienced a situation like this. Mark is being respectful- he’s keeping his hands in PG locations, and the kisses have involved zero tongue- does he not like you as much as you like him?
How much do you like this line chef?
Do you like him because he’s not completely fawning over you like you’re used to?
What is going on?!
“I just want you to know,” Mark says, “it sounds like you’re used to fuck boys and shit, and I uh- well, I’m not like them. There’s no pressure to get naked or anything today-” his voice hitches, “in fact, Jeno will be home soonish so it’s better if we don’t-”
“You don’t want to fuck me?”
Mark tenses behind you. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“If we move to your room, Jeno won’t walk in on us.”
“It’s not about that,” Mark assures you. “Look, I want to take my time with you. This is our first date. I want things to feel right. I want to do this right. Can you understand that?”
You think maybe you’re too horny to want to understand it. 
You want to tear Mark’s clothes off. You want to push him down and ride him until he’s gasping your name and filling you with his cum. You want to feel him still dripping out of you when you go into work tomorrow morning- 
No one has ever made you wait. You’re much too impatient for playing around- and your past lovers have been the same way. 
Even so, you respect the boundary Mark has just expressed. “No fucking tonight,” you agree, “I get that. It’s for the better.”
However, it’s not for the better of your throbbing pussy. 
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Seven
God, Mark can’t take his eyes off of you. It’s been two hours since you arrived on shift, and Mark has been distracted for all of it.
You look adorable today. Your black outfit hugs your body just right, and Mark’s mind is consistently wandering to last night, when his hands had traced your hips before lacing your fingers-
When you speak, he finds his focus shifting to your lips- those pretty lips he’d kissed. The lips that had left him wanting more- the lips he’d thought about for hours after you’d gone home. He’d dreamt of kissing you, but it had fallen quite short to the real thing.
You’d sounded hurt when Mark had said you shouldn’t fuck last night, and part of Mark regrets drawing the line in the sand. But on the other hand, Mark had meant it when he said it wasn’t the right time. 
He doesn’t want to bed you after watching a few episodes of anime. You deserve so much more than that. 
Besides, if he had fucked you last night, Mark might have needed to take a sick day just to calm down. Even now, knowing he’s tasted your lips has his skin heating every time he looks at you. 
God, you’ve got him practically bewitched.
As the lunch rush comes to an end, Mark finds time to go outside and vape. He watches the cars pass while he puffs on his device, closing his eyes and imagining your lips.
As his little break is coming to an end, the door hinges squeak behind him, and Mark turns to find you standing there. 
“Oh, hi,” you grin. 
“Hey.” He looks you up and down. “You leaving?”
“Doyoung cut me again, it’s been slow this week,” you nod. 
Mark swallows thickly. He can’t help the way his gaze dips to your lips again.
You step forward, smiling. “You wanna kiss me again, don’t cha, Mark?”
He doesn’t even bother responding. He slips his vape into his pocket, grabbing your hips to tug you closer. As he brings his mouth down to yours, he pauses for a second, meeting your gaze. If you want to pull away, he gives you ample time, but instead, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, closing the distance between your lips.
You take more control today than last night. You lick at his lower lip, not doing too much tongue, but providing just enough that it has Mark’s skin tingling with need. His fingers dig against your hips, pulling you tighter. 
The kiss deepens, and Mark’s entire heart lurches in his chest when you let out a pleased mewling sound.
Fuck, he loves your sounds already- you sound so fucking pretty-
“Jesus.” Head Chef John’s voice makes Mark practically jump, and he tears his lips away from your own, eyes immediately finding his boss, who’s standing by the exit door. “Damn, newbie, you work fast, don’t you?”
Mark’s skin feels like it’s on fire, and he’s quick to let go of your hips, stepping away and running an awkward hand through his hair, “Chef-”
“Don’t tease him, Johnny,” you sigh. “You nearly gave Mark a heart attack sneaking up on us like that.”
“I’m shocked neither of you heard the door.”
“We were busy!” you insist, raising your voice in jest at the head chef.
Mark is shocked at the way you talk so easily with his boss. But he supposes you’ve been at the restaurant for over a year- maybe you’re closer with the tall head chef than Mark realized.
“Look, I’ll say what I said when Hyuck was trying to get with you, sunshine,” Johnny grins, reaching into his pocket to pull out a jacked-up vape pen. “As long as you use protection we’re good, I can’t have my line chefs becoming fathers and taking time off.”
“And I’ll say what I said last time you told me to wrap it: never gonna happen.” 
“IUD’s aren’t a hundred percent viable,” Johnny points out, making Mark nearly choke on air.
“Mine has been so far, so stick it old man.” You turn to Mark, “Don’t mind him, he’s protective.”
“I was protective with Hyuck, because he’s a douchebag, but Mark seems okay,” Johnny laughs. 
“Thanks?” Mark can’t believe what he’s hearing. 
“Listen, I’ll text you okay?” You grab the front of Mark’s apron, pulling him in so you can press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Have a good rest of your shift.”
Mark watches you dart off. He’s tongue-tied, skin still flaring, heart racing in his chest.
“She’s a good one,” Johnny muses. “Best expo girl we have. Don’t fuck it up, Mark, I’ll fire you before we get rid of her.”
“Trust me,” Mark coughs, “I wasn’t planning on fucking things up any time soon.”
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Eight
In the year you’ve had your solo apartment, you’ve not had any guys over. Your MO is to go to the man’s place so you can dip out whenever you get anxious or tired. Inviting a man over to your safe space woman sanctuary is new. The nervousness is manifesting physically; you’re fussing over the overswept floor and the frill on your couch blanket when Mark texts you that he’s arrived. 
With one final breath, you head down to the lobby to let Mark in.
He’s in blue jeans and a black hoodie that sets off the blonde tone of his hair. You’ve been meaning to ask him about who does his bleach out, but you know men can be touchy about their physical appearance and certain body modifications, so you’ve been holding yourself back.
He looks good. That’s all that really matters. 
“Hey,” Mark grins as you open the door, pulling you into a hug. 
“Hey, yourself,” you smile back, pulling away from the embrace to lead Mark to the elevator. You can hear the line chef following you, and you suddenly feel self-conscious about your building. 
“It’s a nice place,” Mark notes, as if he can read your mind. “New build?”
“I think it’s been here like three or four years? I moved in last winter.”
“Right,” he nods, coming to a stop next to you as you hit the button to call the elevator. 
You can feel him staring at you, and it’s making you even more nervous. “What?” you ask, letting out a short laugh.
“Nothing, you just uh… you look cute.” 
“I’m literally in PJ’s.” Your gaze dips to your simple fuzzy purple shorts, and the tank top you’re wearing.
“But they’re nice. I’ve only ever seen you in work outfits, and when you came over last time you were in jeans. You look cute dressed down like this.”
You’d been worried about being so casual with Mark- dressing for comfort instead of the need to impress, but it seems you’ve succeeded in both comfortability and making a good impression. 
“Thank you,” you smile, your insides practically glowing from the compliment. No other man has seen you this way and called you cute- it’s one of the reasons you usually dip out from a man after sex. There’s no comfort or getting comfortable- your other relationships have always been rigid, a push pull and need to be perfect at all times in order to be deserving of attention.
You make it up to your floor, and another wave of anxiety washes over you as you let Mark into your small apartment. “It’s not much,” you sigh, “but it’s home.”
Mark slips off his sneakers by your door, looking around. “No, I like it,” he assures you. “No roommates kicking around- I bet living alone is pretty relaxing.”
“It can be, but it’s also lonely at times,” you admit.
“Well, if you get lonely here, you can always call me and I can come entertain you.”
Mark’s words give an air of longevity. He sounds certain about this, as if it’s a given that he’s part of your life now, as if he’s not going anywhere. 
You’re not sure what to make of Mark. You’ve never really had steady consistency from a man- but he seems so sincere, it makes you want to be hopeful, and hope can be a dangerous thing for a girl like you.
“So uh… can I get you something to drink?” you ask. “We’re just watching anime right?”
“I’m good. If I get thirsty, I’ll let you know,” Mark assures you, taking a seat on the couch in your living room. “Should we uh… should I move some of these pillows so we can cuddle again?”
You grin, pouring yourself a cup of water. “If you want to cuddle, we can cuddle.”
“I want to cuddle,” Mark states, immediately grabbing at the cushions and rearranging your space to allow for you both to lie down. 
He’s adorable. Laying down in front of him already feels kind of natural. The way he grabs your hip and tugs you close to his chest has your heart singing, and his breath against the back of your neck is as familiar as anything.
Not much needs to be said as you start your anime. You’re simply enjoying the comfortability of companionship- companionship lacking any pressures or timeframes. You’re two souls sharing your moments together.
It’s a different feeling for your mind to go blank while you’re with Mark. You’re shocked by how safe you feel in his embrace. 
You talk here and there, the two of you discussing moments in the anime, but conversation doesn’t get much deeper than that. You actually kind of enjoy not having to use your brain, and you’re definitely enjoying the warmth of the man behind you.
“I’m uh, gonna take my hoodie off,” Mark tells you, shifting slightly. 
“Okay.” You give him space, turning to look over your shoulder as he lifts the fabric off his body, revealing the white tshirt below. “Wait, can you give me a deeper tattoo tour now?”
“Uh…”
“You said you’d give me a proper tour on the second date,” you tease, hooking your finger in the neck of his shirt and gently pulling, giving yourself a tiny peak of marked skin along his collarbones.
“I guess I did say that, didn’t I?” Mark laughs sheepishly. “Okay,” he takes a deep breath, sitting up again and grabbing the hem of his shirt.
As Mark reveals his chest to you, you’re a little taken aback by what you see.
Generally, you’re pretty good at guessing a man’s build under his clothing, but Mark is much more toned than you thought he would be. It’s clear he works out, and the muscles you see are amplified by tasteful placement of tattoos littering his torso.
“Where do I even start?” Mark asks, looking down at himself.
“Wherever you want to.” You turn to face him, anime forgotten in the background.
He brushes his own fingers across one of the ferns decorating his collarbones. “These are my mom’s favourite plant.”
“Her favourite plant?” you grin.
“Yeah, I know, most moms have a favourite flower, but my mom kind of really likes ferns.”
“Sounds like you’re close with her,” you note.
“I’m a complete mama’s boy,” Mark admits with a laugh, which is when your gaze lands on a heart with the word ‘Mom’ tattooed on his ribs.
“I see that.” You reach out and gently brush the mark.
The line chef shivers under your touch, the muscles in his abdomen jumping deliciously. You wonder how ticklish he is. 
“Then this one,” Mark touches the moth blooming out from his sternum, “was just really cool and the artist needed someone to practice on, so I said, let’s do it, fuck me up.”
You grin at his choice of words. Mark can be kind of reserved at work, it’s interesting to hear his dirty mouth now that you’re alone. 
You kind of love listening to him as he continues with the tour, tracing the lined patch work. Each mark is another story or detail about the line chef you’re starting to fall for, and you commit his words to memory. 
He’s done the tour of his tattoos much too fast for your liking. You trace the last of the marks, a dagger on his bicep. 
Laying on your back with Mark on his side next to you, things feel very intimate, especially now that his focus has shifted away from his tattoos and is solidly fixed on you.
His hand finds your abdomen, and he gently lines the curve of your hip with his fingers.
Neither of you say anything, caught in the peaceful quiet and moments of mutual discovery. 
His fingers brush by your rib cage, and you’re struck by the need for more. Gently placing your hand over his, you prompt him up higher, until his palm is placed over your breast. You sneak a glance at Mark, noticing the way he swallows thickly.
“Are you a boobs man, Mark?”
“I mean… who isn’t?”
You grin at his answer. “Should I take my shirt off? It’s only fair, right? Yours is off.”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he assures you.
“I want to take my shirt off.”
“Then take your shirt off,” he says quietly.
You sit up, quickly discarding the fabric before laying back down again. Now you’re just in a bra and PJ shorts. Mark sucks in a breath, his hand finding your bare hip. Once again, you have to guide his touch up to your breast. This time, when he squeezes you, his thumb rubs over the swell of plump flesh.
You can feel your nipple hardening with interest, pressing against the cup of your bra. “We should take this off next,” you suggest, grabbing at your strap.
“Yeah?” Mark’s eyes widen as he looks at you, his lips parting as he breathes heavier.
“I mean, unless you want me to keep it on?”
“Like I said,” the line chef brushes his thumb over your skin again, “do whatever makes you most comfortable.” 
You sit up again, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp. For a moment, you pause. This is a line you won't be able to uncross. You’re about to show your coworker your boobs. Your sweet, honest, adorable, line chef coworker, who gazes at you with stars in his eyes- your fuck boy look alike secret softie-
You undo your bra, throwing it off the couch before laying flat again. This time, you don’t have to prompt Mark’s hand, he gently traces his fingers up your ribs until he’s cupping your breast. He watches you tentatively, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers.
“You think so?”
“I know so,” Mark says, firmly this time.
“Come here,” you reach up to cup the back of his neck, drawing his lips to yours. He kisses you like he’s afraid you might break, but when you whimper, he responds with a groan, deepening the passion as his tongue glides against your own.
His hand kneads your breast, making you moan again, pushing up toward his palm. You can feel the desire growing between your legs as he kisses you, and you reach out to trace his chest. Your touch begins to lower, fingers grazing over his abdomen-
Mark breaks the kiss, nuzzling against your jaw to prompt your face to the side so he can access your throat. He peppers your skin in soft kisses, slowly descending until he reaches your collar bones-
You realize what he’s about to do and tangle your fingers through his soft blonde hair, pushing your chest up in silent affirmation. “Mark-” you whimper, rewarded when his wet lips wrap around your nipple.
Fuck, he feels so good-
Has anyone ever felt this good?
Maybe it’s the waiting- the going slow, or maybe it’s just the fact that Mark makes you feel safe, but regardless, each touch, each brush of his lips and tongue, has you mewling. You’re pretty sure you’ve soaked through your panties at this point, your pussy practically throbbing with each flick of his wet muscle against your pebbled nipple.
“Mark?” you whisper, tightening your grip in his hair. “Are you…” you swallow thickly. “Are you going to fuck me?”
The line chef pulls away from your breast, looking up at you with dark chocolate eyes. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do-”
“What if I want this?”
“I usually don’t sleep with girls on the second date-”
“Make an exception?” you plead. 
You haven’t been fucked in a few weeks, and you’re feeling desperate. You want to connect with Mark on that physical level, and sex is always the way you do that with men. You want him to feel good, to give him a reason to stick around like he says he will.
“But wait-” you feel your skin heat, “I have something I should tell you first.”
Mark cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to continue.
“I uh… I’m going to be super real with you right now.” You take a deep breath. “Look, I read a lot of smut? That’s like- I read a lot of erotica, written porn, I guess- and, in smut, and porn especially, girls always just cum so easily- and I wish I was that type of person, but I’m not. No guy has ever… you know, gotten me there. What I’m trying to say is, I can have fun even without cumming. So if I can’t get there with you, it’s not you, it’s literally me-”
“Hey,” Mark reaches up to cup your cheek, cutting off your rambling. “Thanks for telling me, but there’s no pressure. Whatever happens, happens. For some girls, you have to get more comfortable. My first girlfriend was like that too, and there’s never any judgement from me. I’m willing to wait for you to feel safe enough that your body relaxes.”
“You are?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you. “I mean, I can’t promise that I’ll be as good as the guys in your books or in porn. Dirty talk is something I have to get used to using too, but, if we give it time, I’m sure we’ll figure each other out.”
You search his eyes, processing what he’s just said. Then you give him a small nod. “That sounds good to me.”
“Good.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. “But, if we’re going to do this, I’d like for us to go to your bedroom, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, of course.” You sit up, getting off the couch quickly while Mark follows. As you get to the door of your bedroom, you look over your shoulder, snaking your fingers into your shorts and pulling them down.
“Fuck-” Mark groans, eyes taking in your body.
You can see a half chub pressing against the denim of his blue jeans, and your pussy throbs again. “Come on, puppy boy,” you tease. 
He’s quick to catch you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his chest to your back. His lips find your neck and you giggle, moving toward your bed while dragging the line chef with you.
“You’re so pretty,” Mark groans, tracing your curves with one hand while the other reaches to grab your breast.
Turning in his arms, you press your lips to his, enjoying the way each kiss gets deeper. He’s relaxing against you, his tongue exploring you more and more. 
When you make it to the bed, he gently prompts you to sit down. You look up at Mark, watching him take in your form. “How did I get this lucky?” he asks.
“You asked me out,” you remind him. “So you did this all yourself, Mark.”
“Did I?” he grins, sinking to the floor.
You’re surprised by the new position, surprised by the way he gently parts your knees, his gaze finding your hot core. 
“Can I take these off?” he questions, gently tugging at your panties.
“Yeah-” you whisper.
Most guys don’t eat you out as an appetizer. In fact, you have to ask most men to go down on you- but here’s Mark, doing it all of his own accord. And he looks so needy- in the best possible way.
Mark slips your panties down your legs, and then his lips find your calf. He begins kissing up your skin, spreading your thighs to accommodate him. 
“You don’t have to-” Your words are lost when he presses a kiss to your clit.
“Don’t have to what?” Mark asks, looking up at you.
“Don’t have to eat me out-”
“I want to eat you out,” he confirms. “I’ll eat you out for as long as you want me to- but, when you need more, just say something, and I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Really?”
“Uh huh,” Mark hums, immediately pressing his mouth against your core again. He licks a wet stripe of your pussy, and it makes your legs twitch on his shoulders.
You relax against the mattress, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of Mark pleasuring you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, keeping him where you need him. He focuses on your clit, circling it and toying with it.
It feels amazing- it does, but there’s some sort of mental block in your brain. You wish you could just cum from this, but the more you think about that, the more you distract yourself from Mark. God, you almost feel bad making him eat you out like this- he’s not getting anything-
The overthinking is something you’re used to, and try as you might to talk yourself down from the ledge of sexual issues, you can’t relax. You can’t focus on Mark, and it frustrates you to no end.
Finally, after what feels like hours of him eating you out - although it must only be a few minutes - you gently tug his hair. “Want your cock now,” you tell him.
“Yeah?” Mark wipes his hand across his mouth, looking up at you with pupils blown from lust.
“Please,” you nod. 
“Should I uh- should I grab a condom?”
You’re quick to shake your head. “We’re both clean right?”
“Yeah-”
“I have an IUD, remember? I want you to cum inside of me.”
Mark draws in a shaky breath. You watch him swallow thickly, then he stands up, undoing his blue jeans. When he pushes down his pants, he moves his underwear too, and just like that, your favourite line chef is standing naked in front of you.
He’s got a pretty cock. It’s girthy, cut, and must be around seven or so inches. The tip is curved slightly to his left, and it’s leaking precum even though you’ve hardly touched him.
Did Mark really get that turned on just from eating you out?
“Come here,” you offer him a small smile, shifting up your bed until your head reaches the pillows. You open your arms for Mark, watching him press a knee onto the mattress and approach you. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you drag him into a kiss.
The kiss is passionate, but there’s a tentative energy to it as Mark’s cock presses between your pussy lips, collecting the juice and saliva that’s congregated there. 
“Are you sure about this?” Mark asks, panting against your mouth. 
You open your eyes to look up at him, nodding.
“I uh… I need to hear you say yes.”
“Yes, Mark, I’m sure about this,” you say, trailing your fingers through his hair. “Please, I want you.”
He searches your eyes, then, with a final nod, he kisses you again. One of his hands slides between your bodies, and you feel him line his cock up with your core. Your legs tighten around his hips, and it’s something like a united effort when his length sinks into your pussy.
You both groan against each other’s lips. The kissing stops, but you remain close enough that your noses are touching. His breath is hot against your skin, and he begins to fuck you slowly, his cock filling you perfectly.
“You feel so good,” Mark groans. 
All you can do is moan in response, drawing his lips back to yours while he fucks you.
You get lost in the feeling of him, and the kissing does aid in calming down your tumultuous thoughts. You can focus on the pleasure that thrums through you with each thrust, the way his cock glides against your inner walls and stretches you out.
Mark grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers and pressing you against the bed, his hips working faster. His tongue is eager against your own, and he eats up your soft whimpers. His groans and grunts of effort make your soul sing, your heart beating quickly in your breast.
“Shit,” Mark pulls away from the kiss, looking down at you. “It’s been a minute since I’ve- since I’ve slept with anyone,” he admits. “I’m uh… pretty close.”
“Want you to cum,” you tell him.
“Yeah?”
“Please- want you to fill me up-”
Mark groans, pressing his lips against your own. You kiss him desperately, tightening your legs around his hips. He squeezes your hand, his groans muffled by your mouth.
His hips work faster and faster- then, all at once, he kind of just stops. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and his grip on your hand is tight as he coats your insides with his cum.
You hold him through his high, your free hand petting his hair while he brings his lips to your neck, panting desperately and kissing your skin. 
He lets out a sigh of relief as he finishes. Mark pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. You can tell there’s something he wants to say, but it’s clear that he’s not able to find the right words. “I, uh…” he licks his lips. “Should I grab you a tissue or something?”
“Yes, please,” you laugh, letting go of him so he can get off the bed. You watch him look around your room, finding your tissues on the nightstand. 
His legs are as covered in patchwork tattoos as the rest of him, and you’re pleased that the tour will continue another day. He hands you the tissue. “Do you want to use the bathroom first?”
“You can go for it, I just need a second,” you tell him.
Mark nods, pressing one last kiss to your lips before he leaves your bedroom.
You lay there in bed, holding the tissue between your legs to capture any of the cum beginning to leak out of you. 
You’re glad Mark got to cum. You’re not surprised you hadn’t. You just hope maybe one day you will get there, and for some reason, you have a hunch Mark will be the one to achieve an orgasm for you. Or at least, you hope he will. 
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Nine
“So did you do it?” 
“Hmm?” Mark looks up from the chicken he’s cutting.
“You had your second date with Sunshine last night, right?” Hyuck presses. “So…. did you do it? Did you make her cum, or what?”
“Why are you so obsessed with this?” Mark sighs, looking at the other side of the kitchen where John is working. “We shouldn’t be talking about this here.”
“Nah, this is the perfect place to talk about it,” Hyuck leans against the work station, his back to the head chef. “So I’m guessing you didn’t make her cum.”
“Is that all you were thinking about every time you fucked her?” Mark asks.
“Duh.”
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe that’s the kind of mentality that would make a girl overthink the situation?” Mark shakes his head. “I bet you would watch her super intently and then just ask her to cum.”
“That’s a move, Mark, it’s called having rizz.”
“But it never worked, so was it really rizz, or were you just fucking yourself over?”
Hyuck narrows his eyes. “So now you’re the expert on making girls cum?”
Over Hyuck’s shoulder, John stops what he’s doing and turns to stare at the line chefs. Mark can feel his skin heating, and he opens his mouth to rectify the situation, but Hyuck’s already speaking again. 
“I bet you a hundred bucks you won’t be able to make her cum.”
“Fuck you, I’m not betting money on this shit,” Mark hisses. 
“Sounds like something a pussy would say.”
“A pussy with a knife in his hand,” the line chef notes, his grip tightening on the handle. “Look, when I do make her cum, you have to stop bashing her like it’s her fault that you wouldn’t take the time to make her comfortable.” 
“And when you don’t make her cum?”
“It’s not going to happen.” Mark’s not sure where his confidence is coming from, but something in his heart tells him to be firm about this. He’s going to get you there. It might take a few weeks, hell, it might take over a month- but he’s going to get you to the point where you relax enough to cum for him, or so help him God-
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Ten
Mark had cum inside of you three times since arriving at seven, and at two am he had finally broached the idea of heading home. “I should probably go,” the line chef had sighed, holding you closer to his chest.
“I mean… you could always just stay over?” you’d suggested.
“Yeah?”
“It’s our third date, why not?” you’d shrugged, cuddling tighter against him. 
You hadn’t planned this, it had just sort of happened, and that’s how Mark had ended up sleeping at your place for the first time. 
He’d woken up half way through the night, voice raspy, hands grabby, moaning about how lucky he was to be here with you. Falling asleep again after he’d railed you had been as easy as breathing, and now, in the morning hours, you’re in the shower to wash off all the cum he’d left on and inside of you. 
Neither of you have to be at work till the afternoon, and you kind of like the idea of lazing around with Mark, who’s still passed out in your bed. 
You take your time with your skin care and hair, and when you finally enter your room, you’re intrigued to find the line chef still asleep. He’s quite handsome like this, all bundled up in your white duvet, blonde hair shining around him like a halo.
You try to be careful as you crawl onto the mattress next to him, but Mark immediately rolls over to pull you tight to his chest. He lets out a soft groan, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
God, why are things so domestic with this boy already?
His hands trail up and down your back, fingers stroking your skin. You’d put on his shirt, but other than that, you’re naked, and it doesn’t take long for Mark to realize that fact. His touch moves down to your hip, sliding under the shirt. His thumb draws circles against your bare skin, and he lets out another moan. 
“Morning, puppy boy,” you laugh.
“Hungry,” Mark whispers. 
“Hmm?”
“I said,” he leans down, pressing kisses to your throat, his lips brushing by your ear when he repeats himself; “Hungry.”
“I can make you breakfast,” you assure him.
“Don’t want food,” Mark says. “Want you.”
In one quick motion he pushes you onto your back, getting on top of you. His breath is hot against your neck, and he tugs on your shirt, pulling it up to reveal your breasts. His mouth wraps around your nipple, and he sucks on it gently, releasing sounds of pleasure. 
You thread your fingers through his hair, letting out a sigh of relief. “Feels good,” you tell him.
One of his hands slips between your legs, his digits teasing your slit. “Always so wet for me,” he groans, releasing your nipple with a pop. “Can I taste?”
Mark is definitely getting more bold with you, but that’s what happens when you’ve fucked a handful of times, had three dates, and one sleep over. 
“You can do anything you want to me,” you tell him.
The line chef kisses down your abdomen, pushing your legs open as he settles between them. You thread your fingers through his hair as he brings his mouth to your core, licking at your pussy lips. 
Mark is really good at oral. This is the fourth time he’s eaten you out. With each time he presses his mouth to your pussy, part of you gets more and more convinced that you’ll cum this way. When he adds two fingers into your aching core, you’re pretty much sure that it will happen-
It feels so good, and the moans that escape you reflect that. Your hips buck toward his face, prompting Mark to press a palm to your lower abdomen, keeping you pinned.
But every time you think you’re close - every time you’re about to announce it to him - the feeling dissipates. 
You can feel yourself getting more and more irritated with your body, and soon, you give up entirely. “Mark?”
“Hmm?” The vibrations against your clit have your thighs shaking.
“Can I just- can we just fuck? Please? I want you inside of me.”
Mark pulls away from your pussy, his fingers continuing in your hole. “Are you sure? You know I enjoy playing with you like this.”
“I know- but, I just- I’m in my head again. Want your cock in my pussy.”
Mark takes his fingers out of your core, bringing them to his lips to lick clean. Then he crawls up your body, kissing you so you can taste yourself on his tongue. 
“I’ll fuck you,” he says, “but don’t ever think I don’t enjoy being between your thighs like that, okay? You don’t have to cum, I know from the sounds that you make that you enjoy it, and that’s enough for me until you get there, yeah?”
You swallow thickly, nodding. “I’m still in my head.”
“I get that, Sunshine,” he kisses you gently, cupping your cheek as he lines his cock up with your wet hole. “If there’s anything I can do to stop the overthinking-”
“Just fuck me,” you insist, wrapping your legs around his hips.
Mark laughs. “You got it.”
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Eleven
“Dude, is that a hickey on your neck?” Hyuck’s annoying voice makes Mark flinch, and his hand immediately flies to slap against the side of his throat.
“What? No.” 
“It totally is,” Hyuck laughs. “Damn, you two must really be going at it a lot.”
“We’re having fun.”
“Fun like two times? Three?”
“Fun like five times in the past twenty four hours.”
“Jesus Christ.” Hyuck’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. “Are you serious?”
“I don’t know what you were talking about with her not being able to sleep next to you. She passed out just fine with me last night.”
Hyuck lets out a deep breath. “Fucking Hell. Maybe I underestimated you. So… did she cum?” 
Mark sighs. He hates to be talking about this while at work. You’re running food, but you could be back at any second, and Mark doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea about all of this. Hyuck is the instigator of these sexual talks, and Mark doesn’t know how much to keep to himself.
“So that’s a no,” Hyuck deduces. “Big ouch.”
“I feel like we shouldn’t talk about this anymore,” Mark says finally.
“Why? Is your pride hurt?” 
Mark lets out another annoyed breath. “I just think it’s disrespectful. You’re an ex fling of hers, you don’t deserve to know everything about her personal life.”
“I don't want to know about her personal life,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “I want to know about her sex life, there’s a difference.” 
“I’m done talking to you about this,” Mark insists.
“Damn, someone is starting to sound like a protective boyfriend. Jeeze, calm down.”
Mark hates that there’s some truth in what Hyuck is saying. He already feels quite protective of you. He’s got dates planned, things that can make you smile. He pays close attention to you when you speak, looking for your likes and dislikes. 
Mark is falling for you faster than he’d ever care to admit, especially not to Hyuck of all people. 
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Twelve
“Who does a staff Christmas party in January?” Jungwoo asks as a bunch of you take the big table after the restaurant has closed.
“We were all too busy at Chirstmas time, remember?” Jaehyun says, looking at his waiter friend. “And then there was New Years, and we closed early.”
“I agree with you Woo, a mid January Christmas party feels weird,” you grin, leaning against your favourite server. 
In all honesty, it feels like your managers Taeil and Doyoung just wanted to give you all some time to relax and celebrate. January can be a slow month in the restaurant business, and you’d heard Jeno mention yesterday that there are four or five bottles of wine that no one has been ordering that have to be used up. 
As you begin to drink the wine, the mid January Christmas party makes more and more sense. The chefs have finished their closing tasks, with John joining you first, followed by Hyuck, and finally Mark.
With Jaehyun across from you, Jungwoo on one side, and John on the other, you’re surrounded. Mark sits at the other end of the table, offering you a small smile. You give him a gentle wave in response, giggling to yourself over the rim of your wine glass.
“Gosh, Sunshine,” Jungwoo slides closer to you. “Are you drunk already?”
“You’ve been refilling my glass,” you point out, pouting a little.
“Because you’re a cute drunk,” he grins. 
“A very cute drunk,” Jaehyun agrees, eyeing you from across the table. 
The thing about dating a coworker and it being new means you can’t talk about it. Until there’s a label with you and Mark, you’re keeping your lips shut. As far as Jungwoo or Jaehyun know, you’re single, and the latter of the two has been hitting on you for months.
It feels odd to have Jaehyun calling you cute while Mark is just a few seats down. Your stomach twists into drunken knots, and you wish you could move to be closer to your new secret Boo-
In the periphery of your vision, you note Mark stand up and begin to head to the bar. It feels like the perfect excuse to get some time alone with him, so you hop off of your chair. 
Mark’s grabbed a glass and is beginning to pour himself a beer from the tap by the time you reach him. “Hi, puppy boy,” you grin.
“Hey, Sunshine,” he laughs, looking you up and down. “Jungwoo’s been feeding you the wine, huh?”
“Just like… a normal amount.” God, you can’t help but smile constantly at the boy who has your heart twisting into love sick knots. 
“Are you tipsy?” Mark cocks his head to the side as he finishes pouring his drink.
“Maybe…”
“Can I get you some water?” he suggests.
You lean forward over the bar top, lowering your voice so only Mark can hear you. “I’m thirsty, but not for water or wine.”
It takes Mark a moment to read the innuendo of your words, but then he laughs. “I should get you some water.”
“What if I don’t drink it?”
“What if I ask you to please drink it?” he counters, already filling a cup for you. 
“Okay, fine. Just for you, though.” 
Mark grins as he hands you the glass.
“Why do you take care of me so much?” you ask, as the two of you head back to the table.
“Because,” Mark pulls your chair out for you, “you’re my favourite expo girl.”
“I better be,” you say, teasingly narrowing your eyes at Mark before he walks back to his own seat down the long table.
You begin to nurse your water. Mark’s right about you needing it. The tipsyness has somehow intensified- probably because Jungwoo had insisted you finish your wine glass. You feel blurry as you sit there and listen to your coworkers chat.
“I just don’t like saying chicken breast,” Jungwoo states.
“But that’s what they are!” Yuta, one of the night line chefs, insists. “They’re breasts!”
“I just tell customers that the alfredo comes with chicken, they don’t need to hear me say breast!” Jungwoo fights back. “Jaehyun agrees with me, right Jae?”
“Yeah, I just say chicken,” the man across from you nods.
“Taeyong also just says chicken,” Jungwoo continues. “So right now it’s three to one.”
“Hyuck,” Yuta calls across the table, gaining the attention of the men at the other end. “Do you call it chicken breast, or just chicken?”
“Neither,” Hyuck says confidently. “Thems some chicken boobies.”
You can’t believe the conversation you’re hearing. “I think it’s time for me to leave,” you decide. 
“What? Why?” Jungwoo whines.
“I can’t be here for a discussion about chicken.”
Jungwoo slams his hand on the table. “See, she said just chicken too!” 
Yuta points his finger at you like you’re on a game show. “Is that your final answer?” 
You lean forward, pretending his hand is a microphone. “Chicken titties.”
“Yeah, we’re cutting you off,” Jungwoo decides. “You need to go home and sleep.”
“Someone should make sure you get back to your place okay,” Jaehyun notes, standing from his chair.
“I’ll take care of her,” comes Mark’s voice from the other end of the table.
Jaehyun turns to stare at the line chef, who also stands up. 
John is next to you, and you watch a knowing expression appear on his features, grinning as he sips his beer. 
“You still have half your drink left,” Jaehyun insists, “And, I’ve known our little miss Sunshine for much longer than you have. I’m sure she’s probably more comfortable with me taking her home.”
A muscle in Mark’s jaw feathers. You watch him reach down and grab his beer, downing the whole thing in three large gulps before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.
Fuck, the motion reminds you of what he does whenever he eats you out, and you feel almost dizzy thinking about it.
“Who’s it gonna be, Sunshine?” Hyuck grins. “Jaehyun, or Marky boy?”
“Let’s go, Mark,” you say, offering Jaehyun a small smile. “We’ll see all you guys tomorrow.”
Jaehyun looks pretty defeated, but you can’t even bring yourself to care as Mark comes around the table to offer you his arm. At first, you think you don’t his help, but when you stumble after one step, you latch onto his bicep.
“I was hoping you’d go home with me tonight,” you whisper as the two of you exit to the parking lot, where Mark’s truck is waiting. He helps you climb inside, smiling and shaking his head.
“Sunshine, if you ever want me to go home with you, you don’t have to get drunk, just ask.”
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Thirteen
“I’m really not that drunk,” you insist, making your way over to the liquor cabinet again.
Mark sighs. You’re a grown adult, he can’t keep directing you away from the booze. “Okay, I believe you. What do you want? Let me make it for you.”
“I want…” you think about it for a moment. “An espresso martini.”
“It’s late, won’t the espresso make it hard for you to sleep?” You’re definitely drunk and you both know it.
“I don’t care. Want espresso martini.”
“Okay, Sunshine, you got it.” Mark moves through your kitchen, finding the espresso machine there. He slips a pod into the device, setting up a cup. 
“Can you add honey?” you ask, already moving to the cabinet to grab a bottle. Mark takes it from you, squeezing some of the honey into the bottom of the cup as hot coffee begins to pour over it. “I also want Baileys.”
Mark laughs a little, shaking his head as you stumble to grab the large Irish Cream bottle from your cupboard.
“And also ice,” you declare. “Frothed.”
“This is a whole thing, huh?” Mark watches you fill the frother with Baileys. 
“I like what I like,” you insist. “We’re gonna triple froth this.”
“You’re the boss.” Mark reaches into his pocket, pulling out his vape. You’ve been letting him smoke in here, and he appreciates the reprieve as the two of you make this very complicated espresso martini. 
By the time you’re done with it, Mark’s not even sure you could call it an espresso martini. With the amount of frothed foam on top, this drink is something else entirely. 
He watches you lift the cup to your lips, immediately getting foam on your face. You simply giggle and wipe it off, licking your finger clean. Then you dip your digit into the froth, scooping it up and popping it in your mouth.
Mark swallows thickly while watching you do this.
“Puppy,” you groan, “this is so good.” You offer him your finger. “Try it.”
Mark can’t say no to you, so he allows you to dip your finger into his mouth. He licks you clean, watching the way your breath catches. You bite on your bottom lip, swaying a little on your feet.
“Your turn,” you say quietly, holding out the cup.
“My turn?”
“I wanna suck on your fingers.”
Mark knows you're drunk. He knows this probably isn’t the best idea for either of you, but he simply can’t say no to you. Not now, not ever. 
He dips his pointer into the foam, then presents it to you. 
You grab his wrist, keeping him still while you move forward to suck on his finger, releasing a small groan. Mark can already feel the blood rushing to his cock, but he ignores it as he goes for another scoop of froth. 
“Tastes better on you,” you tell him, licking his digit clean again. “More. Please.” 
The way you look at him each time you suck his finger tells Mark that you’re as horny as he is. When he scoops with two digits, you practically mewl as you lick.
“I wanna suck on something bigger,” you state.
“Sunshine,” Mark sighs, “I really don’t want to take advantage-” 
“You’re not. Mark, you’ve eaten me out so many times, please let me return the favour?” You’re already sinking to your knees on the kitchen floor, and the sight of you makes Mark’s cock throb in his jeans. “Please, I just wanna suck you off.”
“You know I can never say no to you.”
As the words leave him your hands find his belt. In moments, you’re pushing his pants down, your grip wrapping around the base of his cock. He watches you lick your lips, your gaze meeting his as you lean forward to take him into your mouth.
Mark immediately lets out a groan. “You feel so good, sunshine.”
You whimper around his length, and the vibration has Mark’s fingers twitching. He reaches for your head, cupping your face while you suck him off. His other hand places your drink on the kitchen counter before falling to his side. The line chef’s head falls back, his eyes closing as he eats up the feeling of you.
“That’s it,” he sighs, loving the way you twirl your tongue around his shaft.
You take as much of him past your lips as possible, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, causing Mark’s eyes to fly open. He looks down at you with concern, but you keep sucking him.
“You don’t have to deep throat me,” Mark assures you, pushing some hair away from your face.
You let out a whine, sinking onto him again, only for your throat to constrict tight around his tip. 
Mark groans. “Fuck, Sunshine, I’m serious.”
The line chef could never do what you’re doing right now. Not because he’s not into cock, but because he has the worst gag reflex ever. He knows what it’s like to choke, and he doesn’t want you sputtering on his cock in the name of pleasuring him. 
When you try to deep throat him a third time, Mark simply pulls you off of him. He’s struck by the view of a string of saliva keeping you connected to his cock, and the way you look up at him in a confused daze has his heart thundering in his chest.
“Enough of that,” Mark says softly. “Let me take care of you.”
He reaches down, gently taking your hands so he can help you to your feet. 
“Bedroom?” he suggests.
You nod, swallowing thickly and wiping at your mouth, then you dart off. You’re awfully agile for a drunk girl, and Mark smiles to himself before following you. By the time he’s made it to the bedroom, you’ve already stripped.
You’re sitting on the bed, grinning at him with a hint of mischief in your eye.
“Take advantage of me, Mark,” you say as he pulls off his shirt.
“Jesus,” Mark whispers. “I hate to say it, but that line is not enticing at all.”
He’s still kind of questioning if this is a good idea, but at the same time, you’ve already fucked on multiple occasions. He knows you want him sober, and especially - it appears - while drunk. 
“Come on, please?” You pout out your lower lip.
Mark slips out of his jeans, joining you on the bed. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss while your legs encircle his hips.
As his cock slips past your core, Mark is shocked at how wet you already are. Booze has really done a number on you, but neither of you are complaining.
“You sure you want this?” he asks.
“Don’t make me beg,” you laugh, “Cuz I will.”
“No, it’s okay,” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “Just checking.”
Before he can reach for his cock, you beat him to it, grabbing the base and lining his tip up with your entrance. “Fuck me, Mark, I’m begging for it.”
He presses his lips hard against your own as he pushes into your wet hole, both of you groaning loudly at the feeling. 
“Shit,” you whimper, breaking the kiss to look up at him, “I’m so sensitive today-”
“Alcohol does that sometimes,” Mark notes, bringing up a hand to cup your breast. When his fingers pinch your nipple, you let out a high pitched squeal, pushing your chest up toward his palm. 
“Fuck, Mark-” Your pussy clenches tight around him, and the feeling makes Mark dizzy. 
“You sound so good, Sunshine, and you’re gripping me so fucking hard-” Mark begins to fuck into you. Your nails claw at his arms, your head thrown back, eyes closed.
Mark reaches down to rub your clit. You shudder below him, legs tightening around his hips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you moan loudly. “Just like that-”
He applies more pressure to your sensitive bud, making your hips buck toward him, your core clenching him in a death grip. 
“If you keep squeezing me like this, I’m not going to last long-” he warns you, tension building in the base of his cock.
“I want you to cum,” you insist, opening your eyes to look at him.
“Don’t you want to try and get there too?” he asks. 
“I don’t-” you swallow thickly, “I don’t think I’ll be able to.”
“Let me fuck you a little longer, yeah?” Mark prompts. “I can wait a bit. Actually, we should switch positions.”
“To what?”
“Can you get on your knees for me?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you nod quickly. As soon as Mark pulls away, you’re flipping over, pushing your ass into the air for him.
“Fuck, what a view,” he breathes, hands smoothing across your bum. 
You whimper, and the sound encourages Mark to slip himself into you again. The sigh of relief that leaves you has Mark’s skin tingling, his grip finding your hips. 
“It’s so deep,” you groan, tangling your fingers in the sheets.
You’re right about that- your wet pussy is taking every inch Mark has, and each smack of his hips against your ass has you getting even wetter. He’s pretty sure you’re dripping down your thighs at this point, and his fingers dig into your skin even harder.
The sounds you’re making are like music to his ears. Your grip on his cock is insane. Mark’s pretty sure tonight is going to be the night that you cum- but as he continues fucking you, it becomes more and more clear that only one of you is going to get there- and fast. 
“Fuck,” Mark grunts, his heart racing in his chest as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. 
“Cum in me,” you insist, reaching behind yourself.
Mark grabs your hand, lacing your fingers and holding you against the small of your back.
“You really want me to cum?” he asks, breathless.
“Please,” you nod, squeezing his hand. “Wanna be full.”
Again, Mark can’t say no to you.
“Okay, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whispers, fucking you even harder. “Shit-” 
His orgasm hits straight on, tingling through his entire body like an electric jolt. He pushes his cock into you as deep as it can go, feeling it throb as he coats your walls in cum. Mark throws his head back, eyes closed, overcome by the pleasure that courses through him.
He’s not the type that can fuck someone through his high. When he cums, he has to stop, has to experience the feeling in full. His mind goes completely blank…
But his first thought when the words come back is that he should tell you he loves you.
Fuck. This is becoming a problem. 
Every time he cums deep inside of you, his feelings grow. He’s overwhelmed with this sense that you’re meant to be, that he should just lock you down and let you know how much you mean to him.
But as always, that logical side rears its head, reminding Mark that it’s only been a few weeks of seeing each other. He needs to take things slow- for your sake. He doesn’t want to scare you away. Being a safe space for you includes watching his tongue, it means not putting pressure on you like this- 
If there’s one thing that will pressure you, it’s the admittance that he’s kind of in love with you.
Instead of saying what’s on the tip of his tongue, Mark pulls out of you. He gets you a tissue for the cum that begins to drip out of your pussy, and a cup of water to make sure you’re hydrated. Once you’ve both cleaned up in the bathroom, he cuddles you close to his chest, stroking your back and listening to you breathe.
To Mark’s complete shock, you fall asleep on him within minutes. 
It’s a sign that you’re truly feeling safe with him, and Mark thinks he must be going in the right direction. He’s careful not to wake you up, he simply enjoys the feeling of holding you close while you rest.
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Fourteen
You wake up slowly, cuddling closer to the warmth next to you. It takes you a moment to realize that the heat is coming from Mark, and you open your eyes to stare at him.
“Morning,” Mark grins, putting down his phone to watch you. “Sleep well?”
“Shockingly well,” you grin, snuggling closer. “You?”
“I like sleeping next to you,” Mark muses, wrapping his arms around you. “You know, I was thinking I could make you breakfast or something. Neither of us have work today.”
“Breakfast?” You perk up.
“Yeah, I can cook most breakfast or brunch foods, but uh… don’t ask me to make eggs.”
“Eggs?” You raise your brows, looking at him with a laugh.
“I know, it’s stupid cuz I’m literally a line chef, but I never went to school for it, remember?” Mark grins, stroking your skin. “John tried to teach me during brunch last week but I just- don’t have the patience for eggs.”
“Poor John, hired a chef who can’t cook eggs,” you tease. “Are you sure you don’t want something else for breakfast?”
“Like what?”
“Like… me?” 
Mark laughs. “As much as I’d love to fuck you today, I feel like- maybe it would be nice to not sleep together this morning... You know this isn’t just sex for me, right?”
“Yeah, but… sex is nice, isn’t it?”
Mark strokes your cheek, meeting your eyes. “Sex with you is always nice, but I think I kind of want to be domestic with you today instead, if that’s okay.”
Your heart clenches in your chest at his words. You can’t help but lean forward and kiss him gently. “That’s okay with me.”
“Good,” Mark grins. “Let's cuddle some more, and when you get hungry, I’ll take care of the food.”
As you slowly wake up next to Mark, you’re struck by how comfortable you are. Being with him like this feels natural. There’s no pressure to fuck, no need to suck dick in order to earn affection- Mark simply cares about you, and it’s clear in the way he holds you.
If you’re not careful, you could get used to this.
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Fifteen
Since the ‘Christmas’ party, Mark’s been wanting to broach the subject of Jaehyun with you, but in the handful of times he’s slept over with you since then, it’s just never come up.
Today, watching Jaehyun talk with you by the bar, the question is fresh on Mark’s mind, and he only has one person he can justifiably ask about it.
“So… how close are Jae and y/n?”
“Hmm?” Hyuck looks up from the burger he’s stacking. “Oh, those two? Pretty close.”
Mark groans at the lack of detail. “Did they ever date?”
“I think she’s definitely his work crush. Pretty sure he’s asked her out a few times, but I don’t know if she realized it was a date sort of thing.” Hyuck laughs to himself. “I actually walked in on him asking her out around Halloween, but I think she thought it was a group idea. She rejected him though.”
“Looks like he hasn’t taken the hint,” Mark says, mouth forming a firm line.
“Nah, Jae has a pretty big ego. I mean, you’ve seen his face. He’s not used to rejection, it doesn’t compute for him.”
Mark doesn’t say anything, he simply goes back to the alfredo he’s cooking. But it becomes clear that Hyuck doesn’t want to let this go.
“You’re jealous, aren’t you, Marky boy?”
“No.”
“Yes, you totally are,” Hyuck grins. “How long have you and Sunshine been seeing each other now?”
“Like… three weeks? A month almost?”
“Have you talked about being exclusive or anything?”
“Not really.”
Hyuck rolls his eyes. “It’s a yes or a no, Mark. There’s no ‘not really,’ when it comes to ‘the talk.’”
“No, we haven’t talked about it,” Mark admits with a sigh.
“Sounds like something you want though, right?” Hyuck presses.
“I thought I said I wasn’t going to talk to you about this anymore.”
“You’re the one who brought up Jae,” Hyuck points out, raising his hands in mock defense. 
Mark supposes Hyuck is right about that. He’s been considering defining the relationship recently- thinking about how a label could offer you safety, stability, things that are needed to help you relax. 
But now, the label transcends the use for comfortability and cumming, it almost feels needed.
You’re hot. Mark knows that. He sees the way people hit on you every day while you’re working. At first, he’d been okay with it- but now, he thinks maybe he needs something more. Maybe he needs the comfort of knowing that you’re taken, by him. 
He’s not the type to feel insecure, and he’s not even sure that insecurity is the right word for what he’s feeling.
All Mark knows, is that he wants to get to the next level with you, and he’s going to pull up his big boy pants to finally do it.
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Sixteen
You’ve been at home for a few hours, having been cut from work early since it was a slow day, and you’re a little surprised when Mark calls you around dinner time.
“Hey you,” you grin, collapsing onto your bed to give Mark your full focus.
“Whatcha doin?” he asks.
“Just sitting here, was thinking of watching a movie. How about you? Just got off work?”
“Yeah, in a minute, just taking a vape break first. I was thinking maybe you’d let me see you when I’m off?”
“Definitely, you know my door is always open for you. But I should warn you, I have literally nothing in my fridge.”
“That’s okay, I’ll make your favourite and bring takeout,” Mark assures you. “See you in like… half an hour?”
That’s how Mark shows up on your home a short while later. You look him up and down, taking in his work outfit. “Didn’t wanna change after shift?” you grin, holding your door open for him.
“I uh, wanted to see you. Need a shower, so I figured I’d put on my fresh clothes after that.”
“Sounds good, you know that my home is your home. Go shower, I’ll put our food in bowls.” You accept the takeout from Mark, intent on turning to head to the kitchen- only for him to pull you back into an embrace.
“Hi,” he mumbles, kissing the side of your head and nuzzling against your hair.
“Hi,” you grin, turning in his arms to press your lips to his. “Go shower.”
“You got it.”
Mark goes into your bathroom, and a moment later you hear the water begin to run. You take your time in the kitchen. Mark has made himself alfredo, and he’s cooked your favourite rice bowl for you. You smile to yourself while plating the food, loving how domestic things have gotten with Mark.
Part of you is tempted to join Mark in the shower, but you’re not sure if you’re there yet, so you wait patiently for him to finish. This isn’t the first time he’s showered at your place, and you trust he’ll see his designated towel hanging on the hook behind your door. 
You kind of enjoy that he’s gotten so comfortable at your home. You’ve been spending so much time with him here and at work that it feels kind of odd when he’s not around. 
Soon, Mark is coming out of the bathroom. He’s in sweatpants and a tank top that shows off his tattoos. You have to actively stop yourself from drooling as you move to sit at the dinner table.
“So… did you need to talk to me about something?”
“Hmm?” Mark sits across from you.
“We didn’t have plans, you called and wanted to come over, I guess I’m just wondering if you had a specific reason.”
“Can’t I just miss you?” he grins.
Despite his words, it’s clear that there’s more to it, however you drop the issue. When Mark is ready to be real with you, he will be. You have time until then.
Mark begins to talk about work, how it had gotten busy after you’d left. You listen, happy to chat with him while you eat. 
After food, the two of you move to the couch, cuddling up while Netflix starts.
You’re two seasons into your anime already, it’s funny how time flies. You can turn your brain off when Mark spoons you, his lips pressing soft kisses to your shoulder every now and again.
One episode in, Mark reaches over you for the remote, pausing your show. 
“I guess there is a reason I wanted to come over,” he admits finally.
“Yeah?” You turn onto your back, looking up at him. 
“I hate to say that I’ve been jealous, but uh… since the Christmas party, I’ve been a little jealous about you and Jaehyun.” Mark won’t meet your eyes, and you give him the space to continue. “I just… people are always hitting on you, and I don’t know, I think… I mean, I’m a serial monogamist according to Hyuck, and I know we haven’t been seeing each other for that long, but I only see you, in all ways, and I just… I don’t want to lock you down if you’re not looking for something serious, but I guess I wanted to know how you feel about exclusivity and that sort of thing.”
“With you? Mark… I’d love to be exclusive.” You let out a small laugh. “Don’t you realize that I have to watch girls flirt with you too? Maybe we’ve both been jealous.  I think… locking each other down would be good for us.”
“Yeah?” Mark’s beaming now.
“You’re special,” you confess. “I’ve never been able to sleep next to a guy I’ve slept with, which feels like such a contradiction- but sleep has always come easy with you. I’ve never felt such a lack of pressure- such acceptance, for all of me, the good and the bad. I like you a lot Mark, and I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear.”
“It’s not that it wasn’t clear,” Mark assures you, cupping your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “I just… I know you have that wild side, which is totally valid, I just wasn’t sure you were a settling down type.”
“I wasn’t so sure I was either, and then I met you.”
Mark kisses you instead of responding, but you can feel the emotion in the press of his lips against yours. He’s elated by what you’ve just said, and you’re close to floating to cloud nine too. 
Even so, there’s something else. You can feel it in the slight tension of his shoulders when your fingers brush over his skin.
“Mark?” you break the kiss, blinking at him. “Is there something else on your mind?”
“It’s just… I know I said there’s no pressure, but I really wanna help you cum. And I’ve been thinking maybe… maybe we could use some of your toys.”
“My toys?”
“Like… some girls cum better with a vibrator, and if you have one, I’d love to use it on you.”
“Really?” You’re shocked. Lots of men think their dick is good enough, they feel emasculated to bring sex toys into the mix- but here’s Mark, being as contrarian as ever. 
“Even if it doesn’t help you cum, I still think it would be fun. I’m not trying to pressure you-”
“We can use my vibrator,” you assure him, heart thundering in your rib cage at the mere thought of it. 
No man has ever used a sex toy on you- it’s probably one of the reasons you’ve never cum with a lover before.
“Come on,” you sit up, heading to your bedroom while Mark follows. “I keep my toys in the closet,” you explain, bending down to find the shoe box that stores your vibrator. You pull the device out, showing it to Mark. “Is this going to work?”
“Yeah, it will work.” Mark watches you stand up, and he holds out his hand for you to pass the toy to him. “I’m uh… I’m gonna put this down so I can get you naked.”
“Okay,” you grin.
He sets the vibrator on your bed gently, turning to you. Mark grabs your face first, pulling you in for a kiss. He’s gentler than you thought he would be, but you don’t mind it. You like getting lost in the feeling of Mark, allowing him to guide you toward the bed.
When you reach your mattress, his hands slip down to the hem of your shirt. He carefully removes it, and you lift your arms to help him with the task. Mark doesn’t immediately go for your pants next, he kisses you again instead, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other grabs the small of your back.
His touch is so gentle, smoothing across your skin. It’s making you even more eager, and you find yourself removing his shirt before he begins to work on your sleep shorts. Soon, you’re just in a bra and panties, but even those get taken off. 
When you’re completely bare, Mark gently pushes you down onto your bed, eyes taking in your body.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he muses.
Your skin heats at the praise, and you begin to close your thighs, only for Mark to gently prompt them open. 
“Don’t hide from me, please,” Mark says softly, getting onto his knees at the foot of your bed. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your clit before he pushes his tongue into your wet hole.
You breathe a sigh of relief, threading your fingers through his hair. You adjust your thighs on his shoulders, trailing your toes against his well-defined back. 
He eats you out for a little while, groaning as he goes. It’s clear to you now that Mark enjoys getting his fill of you, and it makes the experience ten times more enjoyable for you. You’ve been getting better at slowing your mind while Mark licks at your clit, better at focusing on him and not all the worrying thoughts that generally buzz around you.
You feel the bed shift, and you open your eyes to see Mark has reached for the vibrator. He turns it on, assessing the way the toy shakes on the lowest setting. “Do you wanna show me where to use this, sunshine?” he asks, holding it out to you.
With a deep breath, you nod, accepting the toy and bringing it to your clit. “I like… a good amount of pressure,” you tell him, showing him exactly where you like the vibrator to be held.
It feels kind of odd to be pleasuring yourself like this in front of Mark, but from the way his pupils are blown, eyes fixed completely on your core, you can tell that he’s enjoying the view. It makes you feel more confident, as you begin to drag the vibrator side to side, teasing yourself. 
“This sort of movement is good too,” you tell him.
“Can I take over now?” he asks.
You nod, allowing him to grab the handle of the toy. 
Now that you’re not the one holding it, you can focus completely on the feeling of your clit being vibrated. It feels amazing, your toes curling at the stimulus.
Mark’s free hand is on your inner thigh, smoothing against your skin, but soon, it joins the vibrator. He teases two fingers along your folds before pushing them into you, crooking them up to find the spongey spot that has you crying out.
“You make such pretty sounds,” Mark tells you, applying more pressure to your clit with the vibe. “Fuck, I could watch you like this all night.”
“Puppy-” you whimper, skin tingling at his words.
“You have no idea how good you look,” he continues. “I swear- I want you to cum, but even if you don’t, I’m not going to be able to forget about this. This view is- fuck, it’s the best view in the world. We’re going to be at work and this is all I’ll be thinking about. I won’t be able to get you out of my head.”
With each admittance, each uttered word of praise, you can feel the tension building in the pit of your stomach.
“Can you grind on this a little, sunshine? Grind on my fingers and your toy?”
“Yeah-” you whimper, hips moving as you try to follow with his prompt. 
“That’s it-” Mark groans. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”
His fingers work harder inside of you, and the added pressure makes you squeal. You can’t help the way one of your arms comes up to cover your face, muffling your sounds as your body moves on it’s own accord now. You’re grinding against his hand, grinding against the vibrator that sends tremors of pleasure through your entire form.
“I’m so fucking lucky,” Mark tells you. “So lucky that you’re mine- I could watch you like this for hours and not get bored.”
“Mark-” you groan. Usually, when you acknowledge an orgasm building, it dissipates, like some cruel trick of fate, a complete defiance of the laws of physics- but this time, when you whimper “I’m close” the feeling doesn't fade, it only builds.
“Yeah?” Mark sounds shocked. “All it took was a vibe, huh?”
“And… and your praise-”
“You like when I talk dirty to you, sunshine?” Mark asks. “Like it when I tell you how perfect and pretty you are?”
“Yes-”
“Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Or should I finger fuck this cute little pussy even harder?”
“Oh my God-” you whimper. Mark has truly gotten comfortable with you now- he’s not holding back with his sinful words, and they make your stomach pull into a tight knot. “Please, harder-”
Mark presses the vibrator against your clit, turning up the vibration with his thumb while his fingers continue their brutal pace inside your core.
You find yourself gasping, unable to speak as he works you closer and closer-
“Cumming-” you whisper, your orgasm slamming into you like a train. 
Your breath catches, waves of pleasure surging through you. Your fists grip the sheets, your back arches, your thighs quaking around Mark. Whimpers and moans fill the room, your core pulsating around Mark’s fingers while he works you through your high.
“That’s it,” Mark groans. “That’s my good girl.”
“Puppy-” you breathe, the feeling almost becoming too much for you.
“What do you need, sunshine?”
“Your cock,” you blurt out. 
“Yeah?” Mark’s fingers slow inside your pussy. 
“Please, wanna cum on your cock-”
Mark lets out a breath. “Holy fuck.” He turns the vibrator off, taking his digits from your core. Mark licks them clean before he stands up, pushing down his sweatpants. “Move up the bed for me?” he suggests.
You wiggle up to the pillows, watching Mark get onto the mattress. He allows you to lock your legs around his hips, pulling him close while he crashes his lips to yours.
You tangle your fingers in his hair, kissing him deeply. He ruts his hips, allowing you to feel his cock dragging against your core.
Patience is a virtue, but you don’t have any left. You reach between your bodies, grabbing his hard length to line it up with your pussy. 
Mark slides into you, and you let out an immediate sigh of relief. His fingers had been nice, but his cock is even better. It stretches you open, you can feel him deeper than ever. You gasp against his mouth, dragging him closer as he begins to thrust into you. 
“You feel so good, sunshine,” Mark groans, breaking the kiss so he can press his lips to your throat. 
“Puppy-” you whimper, arching your neck so he has better access to find your sweet spot.
Mark captures your hands, lacing your fingers and pressing you into the bed while he fucks you. 
You can feel him everywhere. You’re completely bewitched by Mark Lee. Your core is practically dripping, each thrust made easy by the wet that exudes out of you. 
Then Mark is reaching for your vibrator. He sits up slightly, looking down at you. “Missionary? Or maybe doggy would be better?”
“I wanna see you when I cum again,” you tell him, accepting the vibrator he holds out to you. “Want you to see me cum with your cock in my pussy.”
Mark lets out a low groan, pressing his lips to yours as you turn on the toy, adjusting it onto your clit.
“If you can’t cum, that’s okay-”
“I think I’ll cum,” you assure him. “Just fuck me hard, and I’ll get there.”
“I can do that,” Mark grins, immediately picking up his pace and adding more power to his thrusts.
“And… tell me I’m pretty again?”
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Mark groans. “I’m so fucking lucky- how did I ever get this lucky?”
“Puppy-”
“You have no idea how into you I am- I love your sounds, love your voice- love the face you make when you feel good- love your smile-”
Each admittance has your heart buzzing in your chest. It’s crazy how easy it is for him to praise you- it almost feels like all these things were built up inside, like he’s a dam that’s just been released, and God, you love the flood.
You press the vibrator harder against your clit, entire body surging with energy. 
“You’re squeezing me so well, baby,” Mark groans, and the sound has your pussy throbbing. “Want you to cum with me so bad, do you think you can cum with me?”
“Yeah, just- kiss me?” you suggest.
Mark presses his lips to yours immediately, cupping your face with one hand. His tongue glides against your own. You eat up each other's sounds, getting completely lost in each other.
In no time at all, another orgasm is building in the pit of your stomach. 
“I’m gonna-” you whimper against his lips.
Mark fucks you even harder in response, and the motion is dizzying. 
“Please, sunshine, cum with me- fuck, I can’t hold it, cum with me-”
His words are your last straw as you explode on his cock. Your core clamps down hard, gasps of extacy escaping you.
To Mark’s credit, he holds off his own high long enough to fuck you through yours, and the moment you begin to be oversitmulated, he cums too. You can feel his cock throbbing in your pussy, his load spilling along your insides and coating your walls.
You kiss him deeply, enjoying his whimpers of pleasure.
You’ve never cum with someone balls deep inside of you before, and there’s a voice in the back of your mind itching for you to tell Mark that you love him- but you bite your tongue. You simply kiss him, holding him close while he finishes.
Finally, Mark lets out a small gasp, pulling away from your lips. His forehead presses against yours, and you’re both breathing heavily.
You’ve never felt this connected to someone in your entire life.
“Are you going to get us tissues?” you ask after a moment, letting out a small laugh.
Mark chuckles, pressing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss. “I just wanna enjoy you a second longer.”
“Puppy, you have literally all the time in the world.”
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☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I really wanted to kick the year off with something more realistic. I wanted to write about a reader who over thinks, who doesn’t cum super easily like we usually see in fanfic. I wanted to touch on the realism of relationships, the use of sex toys, things discussed in the bonus like whiskey dick, domestic showers together and troubles sleeping next to someone new- I really hope you guys liked this even though it’s not as classic fanfic as I usually write :) 
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. “I drank too much,” Mark admits. “Hyuck kept egging me on- I’m pretty sure he wanted to get me blackout so I couldn’t fuck you tonight- But I swear- whisky dick won’t last all night,” Mark tells you. “And, I mean, you know I love using your toys so it doesn’t even matter.” He’s adorable. Of course Hyuck wouldn’t take into account that sometimes Mark is perfectly happy making you cum with your toys and not fucking you at all. Mark truly is a man built for your pleasure, and you’re not surprised that ‘whiskey dick’ hasn’t phased him.
cw/ tw. drunk!Mark, shower shenanigans, fingering, pussy eating, use of toys/g spot stimulator, Mark has ‘whiskey dick’ and can’t get hard at first, unprotected sex, praise, dirty talk, munch!Mark, creampie/fullness kink, etc…  I petnames. (hers) sunshine. (his) puppy.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 250
🌙 starring. Mark x afab!Reader
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bonus
“Puppy?” You sit up in bed, holding your phone close. Mark’s at some boys night thing, and you really hadn’t expected to hear from him, but here he is, calling you at midnight.
“Hi, Sunshine.” 
“Hi Sunshine!” Someone else screams in the background.
“Oh my god, fuck off, Hyuck!” Mark yells back. “Not you, baby, I’m talking to Hyuck.”
“Yeah,” you laughed, “I gathered that.”
You’ve also gathered that your boyfriend is drunk. You can hear it in his voice, and when he begins to hiccup, it’s even more evident.
“So uh, I wanna see you.”
“You can see me tomorrow, we have dinner plans, right?”
“No, I wanna see you tonight and tomorrow,” Mark insists. 
“You do, huh?” God, he’s adorable.
“Yes, please.”
“Don’t you want to finish boys night?” you prompt, not wanting to get in the way of his time with friends. You know Jeno would get mad about Mark spending time with his ex instead of his boys, and you don’t want to be that girlfriend who restricts her lover from his bros.
“Nah, fuck this,” Mark says. “Jeno went home with a girl, it’s just me and Hyuck and Renjun and Chenle and Jaemin and Jisung-” Sweet Jesus, he’s listing half of your work staff. “But I wanna be with you. I can call a cab and be at your place in like, fifteen minutes?”
“Whatever you want, puppy,” you grin. “I’ll be here.”
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slutofpsh · 5 months ago
Text
strip for me.
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part two
pairings: hyungline x reader (jay & jake)
synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.
wc: 8k
warnings: smut, minor dni, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.
note: okay, i’ve been typing this while my eyelids are dropping. i’m so sleepy. anyway, i hope you will enjoy this. part one here, (strip for me).
slutofpsh 2024 © all rights reserved.
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the day after their little playtime, you’re so scared to go to school. hesitating and timidly walking down the street once you got off from the bus that stops right in front of your school. no matter how hard you try, you just can’t help but to worry that they had spread explicit photos of you.
actually, if it weren’t for geometry’s long quiz you would skip school today. the thought of the boys leaking those pictures haunted you the whole night, you can’t even get some sleep. you bet you looked like a zombie right now.
when you stepped inside the classroom, some of your classmates are bickering and joking around as usual. you expected some dramatic scenes where one calls you out and they all laugh at you for being such a loser.
but none of that happened.
some turns their head at your direction, but they didn’t reacted like how you imagined them to do. there’s no laughing at you or calling you names like whore or slut. but instead they gradually went back on the things they’re doing.
does that mean they didn’t see any of your photos?
you’re still in the middle of spacing out when an arm suddenly rests over your shoulder, followed by a sexy chuckle. it was very familiar and you have an idea who it is.
“hi sweetheart.” jake’s voice ringed at your left ear. his body pressed over your side as he leaned closer adding his weight on you.
when you craned your neck to glance at him, you met his playful eyes. his thick and long eyelashes are very evident from this distance, making him look even more attractive in your eyes.
your cheeks instantly blushed because your noses almost touched each other. envious eyes bore onto you, feeling their heated gaze remaining. they're probably wondering why him— the popular jake sim, is currently being touchy with you— a nobody.
“you look pale. something wrong?” his voice sounded so soft, eyes glistening with a bit of concern if you look closely.
his slightly long hair looked so sexy, its even feel illegal to look like that. you’re quick to dismiss that thought, actually think that its wrong to even have an idea of being attracted towards him. he’s not even a good person. he’s like a devil trapped inside an angel’s body.
jake took a step so he can stand in front of you to take a better look. he leans down so he can catch a glimpse of your eyes making you feel even more timid. his puppy-like eyes stares right into you, as if searching for something.
if only you don’t know his true colors, you might think he’s a very innocent boy. but you knew better. jake sim is far from being innocent. on your opinion, out of all the four he’s the pervert one. he has the most corrupt mind. or at least he’s the one who shows that side more.
he’s usually the one who will pull you any time or anywhere whenever he feels like he wants someone to suck his throbbing dick. he doesn’t even care if your class will start in ten minutes or if you’re in the middle of reviewing for something. there was never a time that he’s not in the mood for sex. he’s always up for it. prepared and horny at all times.
“jake...” and you put your hand over his chest to push him away from you, setting a clear boundary between the two of you.
he’s crossing your personal space and its making you uncomfortable.
his actions makes you a bit suspicious of him. they rarely make interaction with you in public unless they’re picking on you or trying to embarrass the hell out of you.
you should not fall for those pretty lips and puppy eyes. jake sim always means trouble.
“hmm? what, baby?” he asks in a low tone, almost in a growling manner. he trapped his lower lip in between his teeth as he gave you this seducing stare. a hint of mischievousness shines through his eyes.
“move away a bit. y-you’re too close.” your eyes unconsciously darted around the classroom and you noticed how some are still watching you two.
jake seems unbothered by it. of course, its not him who will get harassed by their admirers. it would be you.
he chuckles then snaked his arm over your waist, tugging you even closer. he licked his lips, eyes turning dark out of lust over you.
“we both know we’ve been closer than this.” he spat before leaning again, dismissing your attempt of pushing him and setting a line.
“i can still remember how you look like yesterday. full of our cums...” he groaned near your ear that eventually turned red out of embarrasment.
you just wish none from your class heard what he just said. probably none, right? besides, he just whispered it so close to you. he’s so near to the point that you can feel his hot breath fanning your skin, sending shivers through your spine.
you pursed your lips, preventing to make any inappropriate noise to slip off from them. his hold over your waist tightens, like he just couldn’t get enough of you.
“gosh, sweetheart. you’re so hot looking like that.” he pulls away and the first thing you saw is his evil grin. he’s enjoying it. every damn thing, he’s loving it.
his dirty words made you feel sick in the stomach. you tried to move away, but he managed to grab you by your wrist, yanking you back. almost making you hit his chest.
“don’t worry. your pretty pictures are safe.” he says then winked at you. its like he read what’s in your mind moments ago.
your eyes brightens at what you heard, slowly lowering your guard. jake almost laugh at how adorable your eyes shines with relief. but he must admit, he loves it better whenever its full of tears whenever he’s fucking you senseless.
“r-right? you didn’t spread it or anything?” your soft voice almost made him go feral. jake stops himself from getting too excited. he smirks and slid his hand inside his pocket.
“are you crazy? why would i do that? that’s for our eyes only.” he stated, assuring you.
it somehow sent you instant relief. it was horrible to have that kind of photos of you taken without your permission, but its better to be sure that they’re not going to share it to the whole school.
a heaved sigh escapes your pretty lips that caught his attention. his gaze drops over it and eyes grew darkly.
“but we did sent it to beomgyu.” he whispers like a reminder.
your heart sank at what you heard.
“w-what...”
he scoffs, “you heard that right.” he tilts his head while still watching your face grow pale.
“now, he won’t ever try to flirt with you.” and with that he turns his heel and starts heading to his chair.
you’re left standing there alone. feeling a lump inside your throat and chest aching. you can’t explain what exactly that emotion is. but its not good. you feel humiliated and your only wish is to not bump into beomgyu ever again.
“what are you doing?” you snapped out of it when you heard a low voice from behind.
jay, sunghoon and heeseung walks inside the room. their eyes are darted right at you and noticed how you’re just standing there. the two tall boys behind jay are both silently watching you with cold blank eyes.
you’re quick to avoid their gaze and shook your head to dismiss those thoughts before giving jay a look.
“n-nothing.” you shortly replied and started walking to your seat.
the three boys watch you carefully. the displease look on your face evident and made them wonder what just happened to you. jay glances at them and shrugged his shoulders before going to his chair, throwing one last look to your way.
the class then started after your homeroom teacher arrives. it was normal and you tried hard to pay attention to the discussion. you can’t let these things affect your studies as well. if you want to get away from them, you should aim to a bigger university. far from those four boys.
library period is next after your three first subjects. its basically free time for your class, but you have to spend the time inside the library. you love reading so you don’t really mind. some of them take this opportunity to take naps.
you lost the four boys on your way here, making sure they won’t get a grip of you during the whole hour. the library is huge which is good as there’s a big chance of getting away from them. also, you’re sure they won’t make a scene here. specially with a lot of other students around.
you made it at the far left corner of the library and quickly find a vacant table to read the book you chose. its pretty much isolated as the other students decided to occupy the tables near the entrance.
the book you have is pretty good. cliche plots, but you’re entertaining enough to keep you occupied. you’re currently hooked to it when you heard the chair in front of you being dragged by someone.
your head lifts up to check who it was and regret instantly hit you.
it was choi beomgyu.
his eyes darts at your direction. he looked worried. after being reminded that the boys sent him that photo of you, you quickly tried to gather your things to leave. the last thing you'd want is to get confronted about those horrible pictures.
“wait, y/n!” he calls and went after you.
he managed to catch up and hold your wrist, preventing you to take further steps.
you kept your head low to avoid any eye contact. he’s staring at you and his hold, slowly becoming loose once he realized you’re not planning to run away from him.
he lets out a sigh. “i just want to say sorry.”
you raised your head with a confused look on your face. he blinks and he lifts his hand to scratch the back of his neck. his cheeks flushes, ears turning slightly red.
‘is he embarrased or nervous?’ you thought to yourself.
“i didn’t know about what you have with...” he stalls his words, doesn’t really know which one to address.
you gulped, feeling shy as well. you have no idea what exact thoughts he’s having right now.
“i’m sorry. did i get you in trouble?” his voice sounded nothing but concern.
“p-please, can you delete those pictures?” even if you feel so shy to bring it up, you want to make sure that your pictures won’t be seen by anyone else.
his eyes widen before he glanced away, cheeks burning. well one thing is confirmed. he did saw the pics.
“you don’t have to worry about it.” he gulped, still not looking at you. “sunghoon went to see me last night and made sure i deleted all of them.”
and when he turns his head, you saw that he have a small bruse by the side of his cheek. the ones you can’t see properly from where you’re standing.
sunghoon? what did he do?
you knew he have the worst temper from all of them and he got caught into fights multiple times, but you just can’t believe he will hurt beomgyu for that. its their fault that he got those pics on the first place.
“anyway, that’s it. i really felt bad that i got you into troubles with your...” he cleared his throat and licked his lips. “..boyfriends.”
your brows narrowed. “they’re not my boyfriends.”
he whips his head at your direction with widen eyes. “but why—”
you shake your head, dismissing the topic. “its complicated.”
you let out a strained sigh, once again realizing how bad this situation you got yourself into. beomgyu probably feels bad for you too. being a slave for those four evil guys. you cannot say anything at all. you can’t even complain.
“i have to go. i'm relieved that you don’t have those pics—” your heads turned when you heard a thud sound from the nearest aisle.
feeling a little bothered, you trudges towards to check if somebody was there.
no one.
your eyes dropped to the floor and saw a couple of books fell down from the aisle. probably that’s the sound you heard. maybe some students didn’t properly returned the books.
“thank you for deleting them. good bye.” you gave beomgyu a small smile and a bow before leaving him there.
you don’t want to risk it again. if one of them sees you around him, they might take it the wrong way and punish you. who knows what they will do next? they can be very ruthless and cruel. shivers runs through your spine just by imagining or thinking about what will they do.
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when the bell rang signifying that the next period is about to start, you walked inside the class. oddly, the four boys are sat on their chairs.
your brows furrowed slightly, confused. they rarely come early in class. realizing that you’re overthinking things, you went straight to your chair and soon after your teacher enters to start the lesson.
weird. that’s all you can say. the class are almost over and yet none of them came to approach to bother you. nobody even randomly asks for you to meet them somewhere.
they ignored you the whole lunch break too. leaving you alone and peacefully eating your food. that’s a normal thing for other people, but for someone who often being dragged for their little playtime, you find it a little weird.
they’ve been silent after that library period and honestly its making you a bit anxious. they’re so calm and its a bad thing for you. when its too calm, a big storm is about to unfold.
dismissal came, the loud bell ringing all through the hallways. your eyes glanced at them and they’re fixing their things, jake’s talking to jay. sunghoon’s on his phone while heeseung is silently putting his textbook inside his locker.
you have no idea what you’re expecting, but having them completely ignoring you pinches something in you. this is actually a good thing. they’re not bothering you and you can go home peacefully. but a part of you somehow wonders, feels slightly heavy.
when you finished doing your thing, you roamed your eyes around the classrom and they’re not there. you didn’t even notice them leaving the room. jake didn’t purposely bumped into you, reminding you to meet them by the parking lot or somewhere.
in order to make it on the bus stop, you have to walk pass by the wide parking lot of the school. and as you make your way out along with the other students, your eyes caught a familiar tall figure.
it was sunghoon and beside him was a girl. she’s all smile while trying so hard to keep up with the pace of him walking. with those long legs, it sure is hard to catch up on him. sunghoon’s not that friendly, but it didn’t stop him from getting admirers.
normally, he gets rid of them. but you saw how he actually entertain and crack a conversation with her. it was again odd.
not too far from where his car is, you saw jake. he's leaning over his car while talking— more like flirting with this girl. you know her. she’s from the class next to yours. she’s part of the cheerleading squad, a very beautiful girl. he’s always nice to girls, a playboy. that’s how he's usually described so it wasn’t news to see him like this around her.
jay arrived not long after and he greets the girl jake’s talking to before putting his things inside his own car. he seems to be interested to their topic as instantly joins in their conversation.
noticing that heeseung’s nowhere near them, you tried to search for him. and you’re taken aback seeing him leaning over his car and looking straight at you like he’s been watching you ever since you stopped to watch them.
you gulped and stared back for a while before glancing away to leave. a bitter feeling slowly occupies your chest and you try so hard to get rid of it. its wrong to feel that way. you should feel relieved that finally they’re taking interest towards some other girls.
since you have no friends, you’re often alone around the campus. somehow, even if you feel like they’re just around you whenever they wanted to play, they make you feel like you’re not alone. they make you feel like existing.
and watching them slowly lose interest over you are both nice and bothering for you. being used to their presence from time to time made it seems like you’re losing more than gaining something.
the next day, you tried hard to act normal. despite the heavy feeling on your chest and eyes puffy than usual.
the class are loud the moment you stepped in and you scanned the room automatically. they’re not yet here. its still early so its not a surprise anymore.
“yo, jake!” your feet stopped at what you heard.
just when you’re about to look over your shoulder, someone walked pass by you. his familiar manly scent invading your nose that informs you that it was indeed jake sim who arrived.
your heart cracked at how he acted. he smiles at that one friend who greets him, dabbed him and started chatting.
‘maybe he didn’t see me?’ your thought to yourself.
but that’s clearly impossible. jake knew the whole built of your body. he can tell its you even from a good distance, what more if he walks pass by you? he is ignoring you.
you shoved that bitter feeling and just head on your chair. a part of you want to go and ask them what’s up or why they’re suddenly like this, but another part refrain you from doing so. you knew you shouldn’t.
the next few days, its still the same. all of them acts like you didn’t even exist in their world. it should be a good thing and being bothered by it should be the least you occupy your mind, but you can’t help it.
maybe their presense really planted something deep inside your mind. causing you to feel a bit sadder than usual now that they’re ignoring you. it sounds hilarious, but it seems like you grew attached to them.
wednesday, it was a normal school day. you went to school feeling a little bit more dead on the inside. is it just you or its really boring these days? like something’s missing.
you arrived inside your classroom and didn’t bother to look around. straight up, you headed over to your chair then slump yourself to the table. eventually the classroom got filled with students. you tried so hard to avoid searching the other boys.
“since the fieldtrip will be on sunday, i need all your signed consent letter by your parents. if you don’t have it, i can’t let you come.” your homeroom teacher announced.
one by one, your classmates stands up to place the paper over the teacher’s table. you rummaged inside your bag, going through your things to look for the notebook where you put it. after finally finding it you stood up and walks towards your teacher.
“thank you.” your teacher smiles warmly and eyes shifted on the figure behind you.
even before you can turn around to check, your back collided with a hard chest then a low husky voice follows.
“here’s mine.” sunghoon then leans towards the table, pressing his chest on your back even more. his scent invades your nose and it was making you feel things.
you gulped, getting rid of the lump on your throat. he seems totally unbothered by the contact, unlike you. thankfully, he did moved away after handing the paper to your teacher.
when he finally walks back to his place, that’s when you got the chance to move those feet. feeling your knees slightly wobble out of nervousness from that fine man.
even without checking their direction, you can tell that their piercing and predatory stare they’re giving you. its making you more on edge. no matter how many times they do that it never changes the way it affects you.
it slightly made you confused because they’ve been ignoring you. none of them had spoken to you for days and now here’s that feeling again. oddly, the somersault in your stomach didn’t bothered you.
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it was almost lunch break when you felt a soft tap over your shoulder while peacefully reading. you craned your neck and looked at the person from behind.
“yeah?” you asked, finding it odd that she’s interacting with you. the displeased look on her face gave away the thought that she's just being forced to do this.
“here.” she says and placed a pile of paper at your table, which you followed with your gaze.
“what’s this?”
she sighs and rolled her eyes a bit, “its our signed consents. the teacher said you should take it to the student council’s office.”
“huh? why me?” you blurt out.
she frowns at your response. “how should i know?!” she hissed then rolled her eyes again. “just take it.” and with that her heels turned to start walking away, off to go back to her friends.
realizing being left with no choice but to comply, you grabbed the stack of papers and start heading the said office.
while on your way, your steps gets slower then eventually halted from your tracks. now that you’re finally going back to your senses, you remembered that heeseung and jay are both part of the student body.
heeseung’s the president and jay’s the vice. personally, you think they’re not deserving of the position as they secretly torment you, but the competition between them and the other participants were not even a close call. their votes were beyond far from the other party.
after letting out a nervous sigh, you started walking again. you tried convincing yourself that they’re probably done with you by now.
a pinch in your heart and you want to curse yourself. not just by feeling a hint of disappointment, but because of the excitement slowly flaring inside your chest. its making your hand shakes a bit, anticipation looming right after.
arriving right in front of their office alloted for the school’s student body, you gulped. feeling so nervous and at the same time thrilled, you needed some time to calm yourself down.
a few knocks at the door is what you do and not even twenty seconds, the door opened.
the first thing you see is park jongseong’s furrowed brows. he looked so attractive with that serious expression on his face.
your mouth gaps, reading to defend yourself for being here when he didn’t even question your presence. he just turned his back then walks towards where he’s probably sitting before your knocked.
you blinked a couple of times, still a little fazed of his behavior. it was a bit weird reaction or maybe that’s how he really is to other people. your heart sank, shoulder almost obviously lowering.
“w-where should i put these?” you tried cracking a conversation with him. it was a bit pathetic on your side.
“on the table.” he shortly replied without even sparing you a glance.
his cold demeanor clearly hurt you that made the corner of your eyes sting. you’re already aware that they’re ignoring you, but this is like a slap to your face.
after you placed it along with the other stacks of paper, you turned around quickly, ready to bolt out from this place when he talk again.
“did i said that you can leave?” jay's husky voice almost echoes through the whole room.
it caught you off-guard that your feet moves even before your brain can process it. with both hands on your sides, you stood by the door awkwardly. his eyes met yours and it didn’t reflect any emotions that adds up to the heavy atmosphere.
“u-uh, do you need me to bring something?” you glanced away and tries to look around the room, trying to find something that can flicker your interest.
he shakes his head side to side before he prompt his chin at the vacant sofa by the corner. eventually understanding what he meant, you trudged over where he wants you to be.
“i’ll be done with this in a bit.” he stated that you only answered with a short nod.
you’re clueless and unable to comprehend anything that’s happening. assumedly, you’re here only to deliver the consent letters and now he’s not letting you leave?
your heart batters faster than usual, casually making you percieved of slight pain on your chest. the main reason for this occurence is still unknown, but that’s the least of your concern.
the whole room fell silent once again after jay’s last sentence. you kept your mouth shut despite enduring the boredom.
your body jolted when jay pushed his chair away from the table after closing his laptop. your heart starting to thump fast once again when you felt his heated gaze darted at you.
he’s not saying anything that made you even more agitated. his eyes bore onto you, not glancing away even for a second. finally, he heavs a sigh before trudging in front of the sofa.
when he’s in front of you, feet almost touching, he stops and stares down. with a thumping heart you tried to look at him, but ends up failing as you are quick to tear your gaze off.
“take off your panties.”
your breath hitched and you felt like you’ve heard that wrong. with your mind clouded with a lot of things, there’s a possibility that you just misheard it, right?
with widen eyes, you glanced at him dumbfounded. “excuse me?”
he tilts his head, still with a placid look on his face. hands sliding inside the pocket of his uniform’s trousers.
“take off your panties.” he repeats himself for you.
“strip for me.” the familiar words he utters sent instense shivers over your spine. it was crazy how used you are on hearing those words that it doesn’t caught you off guard anymore.
“b-but,” your eyes glanced at the direction of the door and instantly, jay understood.
he turns and starts walking towards it, the hills of his shoes clicking on the floor. the sound itself make you feel your stomach churn.
he reaches for the knob and smoothly locked it. he faced you once again and huffs, “better now, baby?”
your knees wants to give out even though you’re already sat down after hearing him say that endearment.
with the lack of response, jay stood in front of you again then rest his hand on his hips.
“do it now.”
“what if some people comes inside?” your voice shakes that makes jay’s mind clouded.
“i already locked it. nobody’s going inside.”
“what if they knock—”
“are you going to take it off or do you want me to do it?” he asks with a calm voice.
your lips got caught in between your teeth. contemplating whether to do as he said or no. the door is a few feet away, you can just bolt and escape him. that thought dissipate as he moves to your line of vision.
“y/n.” this time his tone sounds so stern.
with flustered face, you lowered your head and slowly reach for your underwear. you have no idea what’s his reaction because you’re avoiding to look at jay’s eyes.
“good girl.”
you can swear that your face is as red as tomatoes right the moment. with how sexy his low voice sounds and at what you’re doing, heat rushes your cheeks.
after sliding the small garment off, you closed your thighs, feeling so naked without it. jay’s eyes grew dark at the sight of you being like this.
“don’t hide from me.” he ordered and pressed his hand over your shoulder to make you rest at the sofa.
you slightly yelp at what he did and soon, one of his hand pushed your thighs apart. you blushed and tries to fight back which leads to nothing as he just swiftly made his way. jay’s glared at you once in your failed attempt of stopping him.
“look at that,” he stated while staring down at your now exposed core.
you shut your eyes, feeling so embarrassed. this isn’t the first time he saw you like this. he even saw you without anything on, but because its been days since they last had their playtime, it made you feel even more awkward than usual.
“you’re already so wet for me, baby.” he whispers, eyes growing darker out of lust while almost salivating at the view of your pussy clenching over nothing.
“such a slut for me.” he leans in and gather a generous amount of saliva then let it drip down on your core.
you pursed your lips harder and threw your head back while shutting your eyes. the view feels too illegal to watch. it is illegal to these kind of things here, in this office, at your school. the amount of trouble you’ll get into once caught.
“j-jay,” you almost bit your tongue as the suppose to be warning came out as a mone.
he glanced at you over his eyelashes before dipping his head down, finally connecting his lips at your dripping core.
“ugh," your fingers unconsciously grabbed his hair that instantly made you crack your eyes open, surprise by your own action.
“i'm s-sorry,” you said and was about to pull it away when he rest his big hands over yours. keeping it in place.
“its okay, you can touch my hair.” he said before going back on lapping senselessly over your cunt.
it made you hitch your breath and lose your mind. the feeling of his tongue grazing all the sides of your womanhood and how amazingly he’s doing it is too much. the way he makes out with your clit, tongue sliding in to your hole from time to time.
“j-jay, oh my gosh—” you clash your hand on your mouth to keep silent. afraid to make noticeable noises that can gather attention from outside.
“so sweet.” he groans through your pussy, the vibration almost sent you to oblivion. over the right things that you should do, like push him away and leave this place.
instead of doing that, your fingers carded his soft hair and grabbed over it feeling a knot on your stomach. climax almost reaching you.
when you’re about to reach the heaven, jay pulls away and you almost groaned out of displeasure and the lost contact from his sinful mouth. jay smirks and smoothly took off his trousers.
you gulped, eyes full of anticipation of seeing his erect manhood. jay didn’t even bother taking it all off, just enough to pull his member out in the open. his cock is so hard and thick, making you feel conscious about how it would stretch you out good.
muffled curses showers your mind as you fight your demons trying to escape you.
he strokes his cock a few times before nearing it to your core. when its head slightly grazes your line, you whimpered softly, catching his attention. jay scoffed smugly. proud that its him making you feel like this, making you look like you’re going to lose your mind.
he traces your line using his throbbing head and then he finally slid it inside, all of his length. he watches it disappeared as it fully enters you making the two of you let out sensual moans.
“fuck.” he curses as your grip over his arm tightens.
he glances at you and when he saw how you have your eyes shut, he taps your cheeks gently. “watch me fuck you good, baby.”
and with that you obliged to his demands. you let yourself get drawn by his hot stares and fall on his trap. it was as if you just lose control of your own body and just follows what he’s about to tell you.
“oh you’re taking me so well.” he growled above you as he continue fucking his dick deep inside in a slow pace. it was torture.
he kept it like that until he felt you tightening around him, suffocating his cock. he knows you’re about to come and the look on your face just makes him want to just fuck you senseless. but it wasn’t the plan.
you can almost taste it. mind clouded by nothing but the thought of creaming around jay’s hardened cock. the imminent pleasure that approaching made you nibble on your lips a little bit more harder, that you’re sure it will bleed anytime soon.
“oh gosh—” brows narrowing closer as he reaches deeper of your insides.
but the clear anticipation came running down the drain when jay suddenly pulls it out leaving you hanging, losing your chance to reach climax. frustration and embarrasment replacing them right away.
jay finished outside of you after he strokes his dick a few more times, shooting his thick cum on your hole. you look at him in disbelief, wondering if he happens to miss that you haven’t reached your climax yet. it was impossible.
it was confirmed when you saw the evident smirk on his lips as he stood up. the conniving look on his face ignites annoyance inside of you.
feeling too naked and definitely uneasy, you decided to pick your underwear and slid it back, disregarding the uncomfortable wet juice still leaking out from your neglected core.
“see you around, y/n.” you even heard him say before you left him inside that room.
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it was your last two subjects and you’re still on a foul mood. after what happened at the student council’s office with jay, you can’t get rid of your bad mood. maybe because you’ve been denied of your release. for the first time. you never knew it felt this way.
“y/n, coleen and shin.” your head perks up at the mention of your name.
“please go to the journalism club room. its your turn to take your i.d pictures.” the homeroom teacher announces.
the other girls that was called stood up right away. you don’t want to go. you’re not really on the mood to take pictures. not when you’re feeling sulky and pissed off.
in the end, you forced yourself up and go to take your i.d picture. all you want is for you to go home and finally leave this place.
the club room is at the other side of the building and you can see that some students are around the hallway, goofing around.
since the journalism club have talented photographers, they’re tasked to take the student’s i.d pictures for this school year. you didn’t think too much of it as it doesn’t bother you at all. the school can do whatever they want.
when you entered the club, its filled with students. you noticed curtains that serves as divisions inside. there are a total of four stalls where students gets inside to get their pictures taken. probably one photographers waiting for them.
multiple sounds of cameras clicking can be heard around.
“please find your section and name here then sign.” the girl at the table near the entrance caught your attention.
you nodded and proceed on finding your name. after doing that, you’re instructed to write your full name on a white piece of paper.
“head over the stall at the end.” she says not even throwing you a glance and focuses on arranging something on her laptop.
you ignored her behavior and just walks to the end stall. the curtain that serves as the door to keep privacy is thick, preventing you from seeing what’s inside.
you moved it and your heart fell at the sight of a man’s back.
jake sim.
probably noticing your presence and hearing the shuffling of the curtain, he looked over his shoulder. his lips curled into a grin at the sight of you. his messy hair paired with his glasses looks so good on him. his free hand raises and pulls his lollipop out from his mouth, making a ‘pop’ sound.
“what are you waiting for? get inside.” he tilts his head, prompting you to come in.
“o-oh, okay.” and you stepped inside.
he pushed forward making you smell him more as he reaches for the curtain to close it behind you.
“sit down at the chair please.” his sweet voice rings on your ear making you feel things.
you follow what he said and sat down at the chair by the center. he was doing something on his camera, totally focused while his tongue plays with the lollipop that is now inside his mouth.
the frustration from before got you too occupied that you failed to remember that he’s part of this club. jake sim just can’t be more perfect. he cannot just be the smart, handsome student who came from a wealthy family. of course, he’s good at taking photos too.
“all right.” he says and finally diverts his attention towards you.
it caught you off guard and totally took your breath away. he glances down at the paper you’re holding. he raises one of his eyebrow then glanced back at your eyes.
“get rid of that paper. i know your full name so damn well.” he says and grabbed the paper to throw it to the side.
“smile for the camera.” he said casually and placed it near his face.
you've seen him with his camera before. during events at school and the journalism needs to cover it, he will be around taking pictures. he looked so handsome whenever he’s doing that. you can tell he loves doing it.
“sweetheart,” he pulls away from the camera to look at you.
“huh?” you asked totally spacing out.
“show me that pretty smile.”
you quickly blushed because of his words. he clicked the camera a playful smile spreads across his face. he didn’t pull away this time but give you subtle compliments, enjoying how good you look right now.
for jake, whenever you look so clueless and innocent, that’s when he loses his mind the most. he feels like his purpose in this life is to corrupt you, taint you in any possible way he can.
“that's it. very pretty.” he clicked multiple times and when he finally gets satisfied, he pulls away to check them out.
you heaved out a sigh, trying to relax yourself. just by then you realized that you’ve been holding your breath. jake’s taking him away from you.
“okay, we got it.” he announced that made you feel relief.
you thanked him and stood up, ready to leave when his arm blocked you from taking further steps. he looked at you with furrowed brows.
“where are you going?”
“outside?” you answered unsure.
“go sit back down. we’re not yet done.” he says sternly and unplugged something from his camera.
maybe it was the cord connecting the camera to the laptops outside. so the students outside can see the actual shots right away.
“but i t-thought you said...” your words stalls when he shoot you this intimidating stares.
it left you with no choice but to walk back to the chair and sit down. jake’s face relaxes and he smirks again.
“now, take off your clothes.”
“w-what?”
he shrugged his shoulders. like he didn’t just said the most hilarious thing he can say inside a studio filled with other students.
“you heard me, sweetheart.” he clicks the side of his cheeks attractively.
“strip for me.” jake’s smile was so evil when he say those words.
you kept still, hands fidgets feeling uneasy. he is the type you can’t say no to. because he will turn sulky right away. and sulky jake is bad news.
“b-but there’s students around, jake. they might see—”
“what do you think of me? stupid?” he scoffs, sounding a bit offended. panic occurs you, ready to defend yourself and explains that its not what you’re trying to conclude
“i already told you that we’re the only ones allowed to see your body.” he sounded so serious, scaring you slightly.
“now take it off before i end up ripping them off of you.” he added aggressively.
it scared you. you knew he will do it.
his eyes sparkled when he saw you reaching for your buttons. with flustered face, your eyes glances away from his piercing eyes. he started taking photos of you. the continuous clicking of his camera and him not saying anything made you feel on edge.
he took multiple photographs of your exposed upper body while your skirt are still on. for jake it was perfect. he can print this pictures and tape it on his room wall so he can stare at it all day.
“panties off. i want to see my cunt.” he then settles down his camera at the sight.
you gulped, the memory of what happened earlier this day with jay flashes back to your mind. the way this somehow reminds you of that scene is crazy. its too similar, but at the same time different. due to their unalike personalities, they’re delivering the same scenarios in their own styles.
he was licking the lollipop like as if imagining it was your pussy he was devouring. he watches while you take off your undergarment, slightly feeling impatient.
the lollipop was out from his mouth as it gaps the moment he saw your pussy. he glances at your eyes shortly then steps closer.
he licked his lips then touches your chin to make you look up at him. you looked at his eyes and he leans to kiss you, sliding his tongue inside your mouth, giving you a taste of the sweetness from the candy.
your mouths continued doing that for a while before he moves away, looking completely drunk in lust for you. he roams his eyes around your face before giving you one last peck.
he then crouches down to be in the same level as your cunt. he leans closer, his breath fanning your sensitive skin. your breath is heavy, unable to contain the lust forming inside you as well.
he raises his hand then tastes the lollipop again then pulls out. he then dips his head, lips kissing your core. you let out a gasp, surprised. a hand clapped over your mouth to muffle any sound.
he pulls away as he looks up to you with his doe puppy-like eyes.
“your cunt is definitely sweeter.” he commented and threw the candy away shamelessly before starting diving back in to eat you out.
“oh my— j-jake!” you whispered, trying to contain your whimpers and control yourself.
he chuckles while still mouth connected on you. he didn’t waste any second before sliding two fingers inside, fucking it inside you with a way that sends your mind somewhere else.
“cunt so sweet, so perfect.” he praises as he continues.
he glances at you and saw how desperation flickers your eyes. you looked adorable trying not to make any sound, afraid that you’ll be caught for doing nasty things inside the school premises.
“you’re so pretty, aren’t you sweetheart?” he asks with a hint of innocence like as if he’s not finger fucking you right now.
he opens his sinful plump lips then slide his tongue out, leaning down to your core to start working on your clit while his fingers are busy sliding in and out of you.
the feeling was too much, the sensation is too much for you to bear that it made you groan. your hand are tightly gripping your mouth to muffle the sound as much as you can.
“s-so near,” you whispered while staring down at him eating you deliciously.
“yeah? cum for me then...” he says shortly.
he was doing a great job on pleasuring you that it was not long until you can feel the familiar knot forming inside your stomach. it slightly worry you that he will do the same thing jay did.
“cum for me, sweetheart. let me get a taste of that sweet juice of yours.” he mumbles sounding so sexy, eyes never leaving you.
“j-jake.” you moaned his name.
he smirks, “that’s right. i’m the one making you feel crazy.” he sounded so full of himself, smug.
“ugh," your head threw back, eyes tightly shut as you shakes a bit after reaching your most wanted release.
jake’s lips on your core, making sure to harvest every bit of your sweet cum. he’s addicted and he’s not even bothered by it.
still high from that delicious climax, you couldn’t help but travel your gaze down to his pants. a dent slightly showing that made you salivate a bit.
“we’re done.” he says that snapped you out of your trance.
you looked at him confused. “h-huh?”
he smirks, “what? you want something else?” he taunts with a hint of sarcasm.
“you’re not getting my dick today, sweetheart. that’s my punishment for you.”
your brows draws closer at his remark. wondering what he meant by punishing you. as far as you remember, you didn’t do anything wrong. so why is he punishing you?
now, jay slids in your mind and wonders if not letting you cum is his way of punishing you.
“i’m done with stall number four.” jake shouts, informing the student outside that he’s finished with his business.
he glances at you and when the lust faded, embarrasment kicks in. you quickly fixed yourself and hurried outside.
everyone seems to be busy with their own business so none of them took notice of your slightly crumpled uniform and your forehead filled with beads of sweat.
once you stepped outside the club room, your steps halted when you saw heeseung and sunghoon heading your way. their eyes both have those cold, dark stares that made your heart race.
heeseung gave you a cold shoulder like usual, walking pass by you and straight to the club room.
sunghoon blocked your way. he’s staring right at you before running his eyes down to your feet. after observing you for a while, his hand raises to fix your blouse.
“students should always wear their uniform properly.” he utters in a low voice.
such big words coming from someone who have the first three buttons of his uniform open. you kept your mouth shut and just glance away.
he sighs after doing the small fixing on you.
“t-thank you.” you just ended saying that, feeling awkward.
his attention then darted at the door of the club room when it swings open, “hoon, its our turn.” heeseung calls for the younger friend.
he nods and soon dart his eyes at you.
“meet me after practice tomorrow at the ice hockey’s locker room.” he leans and places a kiss on your neck before heading towards heeseung. leaving you completely dumbfounded at his actions.
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slater-baby · 8 months ago
Text
The 141 and their massage therapist...
Yeah so I have horrible carpal tunnel and this....yeah just HEAR ME OUT
!!!DUB CON!!!
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The 141 take their training pretty seriously. However, their line of military work is no stranger to service related injuries. Back pain, ankle sprains, muscle cramps - you name it and the 141 has had it. And that is where you come in: the cheap, young, and inexperienced massage therapist charged with taking care of them. You're fresh out of school and still working to get your footing, but you'll be damned if you don't take care of these veterans to the best of your ability.
Though, as life would have it, you take care of a lot more than just the occasional crick in the neck.
-
Price is older than you. That, and very obviously used to being in control. His rank and reputation give him away. Even at your first meeting, you feel silently infatuated with his stature. He's kind and charming, used to cracking jokes, but also used to things going his way. He's confident and mature - something you're very much lacking.
And from the moment you first shake his hand, one thing becomes very, very obvious: his attraction to you is completely unashamed.
Sprawled out on your table with just a towel covering his bulging cock, meaty hands swiping over the hair on his chest while he waits for you to get the oils ready.
"Ready whenever you are, darling."
And the whole time, you can't help but shiver in flustered admiration at his big biceps and chest, hands nearly shaking with trepidation at the beautiful, tempting mass of man beneath you.
And like the shameless man that he is, he absorbs every single second of it. He flexes his arms in your grip, just to watch the way heat rushes to your cheeks. He purposefully edges the towel down a bit lower, just so that you'll bite your lip when the tip of his cock just barely peeks over the top of it.
He's not ashamed to be exposed to you. Hell, he likes it. Likes watching the way you fawn over his bare arms and built legs, likes watching you try to hide the way you bite your lip every time you pour a bit more oil over his skin.
He's always polite and kind.
"Little bit more to the left, darling?"
He always says please and thank you.
And yet, he can't help but tease you with the promise of his naked body, brush his arm against you when he readjusts his position on the table. And when he gets redressed and walks you back to the front desk after each appointment, his hand never fails to rest on your lower back, guiding you along with him, letting you bask in his scent and touch.
And one day, as you're massaging his arm, he sees you crossing your legs like it'll give you even an ounce friction between your thighs. You can't hide the obvious heat in your eyes when he reaches over the edge of the table and ever so slightly brushes over the back of your thigh, reaching up to trace the pretty little your panties make underneath your trousers.
"Sweetheart," he drawls, feeling the way your hand clenches around his skin the harder he traces the panty lines down in between your legs, "Think it's about time I took care of you instead now, yeah?"
Needless to say, it's the first time you've ever been laid out on your own massage table. Though, judging by the way John leaves a trail of hickeys from your waist to neck, you'll soon be doing it again.
-
If Gaz is anything, he's an absolute sweetheart. He reminds you of the boys you met in college. Y'know, the kind of guys you were partnered up with for group discussions? Smiley, sweet, almost idyllic. Idly, you admit you found them cute for a fleeting moment. Perhaps you imagined for a couple seconds what it might be like to go on a date with them. Usually, it stopped there.
But Gaz...
With his lean, hard-earned muscles and spotless skin, he looked like the star in all of your college boyfriend fantasies - with the D1 physique to go with it.
He's talkative and has no shortage of funny jokes. The two of you become fast friends.
Only, it's really hard to concentrate on conversation when your hands get to run over each and every inch of his covetable body. His defined hipbones, veiny forearms, and muscled calves. You find yourself drifting into thought as your hands run from his neck to his shoulder, all the way down to his pristine fingertips.
You're nearly salivating as you watch the way his biceps bend and curve underneath your hands.
"Love," he suddenly shocks you out of your reverie, "Did you hear what I said?"
"Uh--no," you admit, hurriedly pulling your eyes away from where the dimples of his back disappear beneath the towel and onto the boring, beige walls, "Sorry, it's just been a long day."
"No worries," he chuckles, that same, friendly smile on his face.
Only, when he turns to lay his face back onto the table with a roll of his perfect shoulders, you swear you hear a muffled "looked like something caught your eye for a second there..."
And like that, the two of you continue on. Him, making joke after joke - getting more and more suggestive as the days go on.
One day, after a particularly rough work out, you manage to wrangle him on the table. His sore legs scream for help with every massaging touch.
"Fuck," he curses, legs shaking in your hand, "Can you go a bit easier, love? Think I'm liable to pass out at this rate."
You chuckle, pressing into the spot harder, "Trust me, you'll feel better after this."
"I dunno," he grunts, biting his cheek, "Look, it usually means that something feels good when my legs start shaking. But this is just--fuck--"
His words are cut off by a wince, but they stick in your mind nonetheless. A notable runner-up comes a week later. You'd twisted your ankle at the gym just an hour before Kyle's appointment. Your foot had been so sore you'd had a hard time standing straight.
"You okay? Need some Tylenol or something?" he'd commented, worried.
"It's nothing, just twisted it," you'd brushed him off with a smile, "I'll take care of it when I get home."
"You sure?" he'd laughed, looking down at your ankle, "It looks like it hurts. Might just have to trade places with you today, get you on the table instead."
You'd laughed along and made some snide joke about him trying to get out of another painful session. And yet, you can't deny that his voice had lingered in your head long after he'd left the room that day.
It all comes to a head one week when you misjudge the time of your appointment with Kyle and accidentally walk in five minutes early...
...Only to see him with his jeans halfway down the hips you'd been massaging not two days earlier, a big, covered bulge front and center of his unzipped fly. And from the minute you walk in, you swear you can feel the heat building between the two of you. And when that friendly smile drops, you know one thing for sure now: Gaz had never wanted to settle for "just friends" to begin with.
When he gently reaches for your wrist to pull you into the room, bending you over the massage table this time, it's safe to say his strong hands, beautiful body, and hard cock put all of your fantasies to shame. That, and he's decidedly unfriendly when he steals your phone out of your purse, wordlessly entering his phone number while you're still sexed out and dazed on top of the massage table.
-
Ghost, however, is not friendly. Not friendly in the slightest.
Your first meeting - if it could even be counted as one - consisted of about two words and about ten awkward grunts from the masked man. When you handed him the consent forms, your hands felt like they were dripping with sweat. And when he ended up on your table a week later, you almost felt like you were being held at gunpoint when you uncorked the bottle of oil.
He was silent the entire time. Well, for the most part. His only interactions with you consisted of low, breathy sighs as you worked through a knot. Or a small, wordless grunts when you found a spot that he liked. If he found your hands slowing in their ministrations, your eyes lingering on where his scarred pelvis disappeared beneath the towel, he'd snap you back to attention with a single command.
"Love," he'd growl, muscles tensing dangerously underneath your hands, "This is your job, innit? So do it then."
And even if you still harbored the smallest bit of wariness about the guy, you had to admit:
Ghost was big. Like, really, really big.
His feet nearly dangled off of your table with how tall he was. He had to fold his arms underneath his head because his shoulders were too broad to fit on the cushions. You can't even fit your fingers around one half of his massive arm. And his hands - god, his hands. They looked almost twice the size of your own. Some small, timid part of you muses, "if he started swinging, he'd take me out with one hit."
But the other, more prominent side of you thinks...
He would have no problem pinning you underneath him, popping the buttons on your shirt, spreading your legs. He could pick you up, push you against the wall, and take what he wanted - fuck you hard enough that your coworkers could hear it through the drywall.
And then all those breathy groans he tried so hard to muffle in the crook of his elbow would be well and truly yours.
And with those thoughts coursing through your mind...really, it isn't a surprise when he finds your eyes lingering on where the towel covers his half-hard cock. After so many appointments watching you try to hide your obvious attraction to him, he found you looking at his crotch a lot these days.
And when you begin massaging his abs, running your hands down from his plush pectorals to the beginning of the v-line on his pelvis, he doesn't miss the way your hands twitch against his hipbone. Like this, leaned over him, you can barely see the tip of his cock pressed up against his belly button, drops of precum gathering in the hair there.
So lost in your own trance, you don't even register that your hands have stopped moving until he emits an amused scoff. And when his calloused hand pushes yours away, using the tip of his finger to fold the towel back just enough to expose his leaking cock to your eager eyes, you can't even begin to deny the way your blood boils in your veins.
"You're staring," he tells you lowly, watching how you bite your lips at every twitch of his dick.
"M'sorry," your stunted voice replies, "It's just that you're so...big."
"Mm," he hums, reaching down to give himself a teasing tug; the oil lubes him up nicely, "Big in the ways that count."
You don't reply, you only watch him touch himself with rapt attention, practically drooling.
"You wanna touch me here too?" he teases, getting off on the clueless flush you wear, "It's your job, innit? So do it, slag."
As a massage therapist, you took pride in taking away your patients' pain. Sprains, aches, limps - they all cowered before you. And yet, when you leave your own office with a limp in your step and a ten digit phone number scrawled on the back of your hand, you can do nothing more than smile.
It's safe to say your clothes are well and truly ruined by the time you make it home. And it wasn't from the massage oil.
-
Soap is...well, he's just as bombastic as he is in the field on your table.
In the beginning, he was a bit awkward. He flinched and shocked every time you hit a sore spot, a red flush high on his cheeks. For the first few appointments, he can barely field a conversation with you. And even when he gets over his stunted silence, he can hardly keep the stutter out of his voice. For his sake, you try not to laugh anytime he makes an awkward comment.
However, Johnny has always been a firecracker. He throws himself into each and every challenge without a second thought. And while it's paid off nicely in his professional life, it hasn't always been kind on his body.
As the weeks go on, he shows up on your table more often than anyone else. He even manages to nag you into a few private sessions just to ease his aching back after particularly grueling workouts.
"C'mon, bonnie," you hear his familiar whine over the phone, "Gimme twenty minutes. Just twenty. I dinnae mean to whinge, but the Cap'n's cross today. Had me running laps 'til I keeled over. M'legs feel like toothpicks."
And more often than not, you give in to his demands.
While Johnny sometimes eats away at your personal time, you can't help but take a liking to him. After all, his sunny personality and witty turn of phrase would keep anyone entertained. It's just...his brawny body doesn't fail to be the star of every single wet dream you could ever conjure. His thighs are massive and strong, and his chest looks so muscled and soft you can't help but dream of laying against them.
And it certainly doesn't help that his sore body oftentimes makes him the most vocal out of all four of them. That, and his entire body seems to come alight underneath your fingertips with every bruising touch.
"Oh, fuck," his hand shoots out suddenly to grab you around the wrist, pressing you harder into where you're massaging his hip, "Just like that, bonnie. Fuck, you're so good at that..."
And as the weeks go on, you can't help but work harder and harder, relishing in every groan and praise that drops from his lips.
"God, you're perfect," he tells you one night as you massage his thigh.
"Can you--can you go just a bit lower? It's just...my hip's fucked. Can't even walk straight," he chuckles with another week, his pale face deepening into a sheepish, red blush. Looking away from your face, he edges down the towel to expose his sore hip. The next groan he lets out is stifled, his arm thrown over his face - as if the two of you still had even a shred of decency left between each other.
And now that you've solidified your friendship, he's not as awkward anymore. Yes, he still flushes when you first walk in, his nude body on display. But the minute you begin to work into his tense muscles, it all washes away.
Only, during one session, you begin to notice how your hands have a different effect on him than you'd ever seen before.
You're massaging his hip again, pressing into it with nearly your full weight. After a week of hard work, Johnny's beyond decorum, biting into his lip as he tries to stifle loud, relieved moans with each and every knead.
And when you hit one sweet spot in particular, you don't miss a twitch beneath the towel.
"Right there," he tells you breathlessly, "That's - that's where it hurts."
And just like he tells you, you press into it again. And with every move, you watch him get harder and harder beneath the cover, the muscles in his legs tensing while you work through the knot. The towel skews to the side, and even as his aching, red cock is exposed to the air, he hardly takes notice - too caught up in your touch to think straight.
"God, bonnie," he grunts roughly, jerking beneath you hands, "Fuck--"
And to your (pleasant) surprise, the next move finds more than just oil lubing up your palms.
He cums with a grunt, untouched, naked beneath your eyes. And you watch as his ejaculate paints up and over his slick abs, his entire stomach clenching while he rides out the pleasure.
At the very least, he has the sense to be embarrassed about it. For a good moment, he can do nothing more than sit there panting, his arm over his eye while he hurriedly pulls the towel back up.
"I'm - God, I'm sorry, bonnie. I swear I didn't mean to," he blurts out, uncovering his eyes to send you a look of desperate sincerity.
However, when he sees you staring down at his slick, semen covered stomach, an undeniable heat in your eyes...
Well, the shame flees to the back of his mind. Without even trying, he's hard underneath the towel within minutes. And at your lack of a reply, he can't help but cut into your personal time just one more time.
"Bonnie..." he asks, trying to hide the eager look in his eye, "Think we could go another twenty minutes? I promise I'll make it worth your while."
-
HM YEP OKAY WOW CAN YOU TELL THESE GET LONGER AND LONGER THE MORE I THINK ABOUT THEM lkjaljdsflkafj
anyway ;-; this is me venting after a very long week at school. Hope you guys enjoyed ❤️
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sukirichi · 6 months ago
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𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐒. 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮
— in which you and your fuck buddy pretend to date, which totally won’t lead to feelings at all, right?
content / warnings. toxic college settings. explicit smut. MINORS DNI. choking. exhibitionism. fingering. making out. masturbation. voyeurism. toxic characters. reverse cowgirl riding. implied dub-con. friends with benefits. fake dating. unedited.
dedicated to @kyriaan
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The sixth beep of your phone that cursed morning had you shuffling around your bag for the device, fishing it out and muting it with exasperation. To no one’s surprise, he was the sole topic again. Oikawa this and Oikawa that — how he’d be such a great boyfriend to you and your friends could also go on dates with his equally charismatic friends; you were tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.
“Funny seeing you here,” a bored voice drawled out, the scraping of a chair against the floor snapping you to your senses. “Never in my whole life did I imagine I’d find you hiding in a library of all places — are you reading Freud? His theories are shit. They’re not even scientifically proven.”
You raised a brow at Suna Rintaro, your not-so friend friend.
You and Rintaro had a strict friends with benefits relationship.
It started with meeting at a party once when you needed a release from the stress of finals, you made out on the crowded dance floor and found yourselves tangled in the sheets with barely any memory of the night before. The rest was history. Soon, you ran into him more often than you’d expected, and it wasn’t long before you added his name into speed dial.
Funnily enough, you weren’t that close to him.
You either knew everything about him or knew little to nothing. Most of the time you spent with Rintaro would be when you two were drunk out of your minds, bodies too occupied with moving against one another that ‘getting to know each other’ had never been a thing.
For some reason, however, Rintaro was someone you could trust with your whole heart. You just wouldn’t date him because you weren’t looking for a relationship, and neither was he.
Both of you loved the arrangement you had now.
“Why do you know so much about Freud? I just randomly picked up this book.”
Rintaro shrugged, “‘Hooked up with a girl in Psychology once; she was pretty hot, but you’re still my favourite,” winking, he chewed on his gum before snatching the book away from you.
A protest nearly fell from your mouth when a mop of wavy, dark hair sauntered inside the library, taking long, confident strides as he chatted with Iwaizumi. Eyes widening, you ducked your head behind Suna, desperately clutching the hoodie clad on his stiff back.
Rintaro glanced downwards at you, “You’re hiding like you murdered somebody’s pet. Should I be worried or should I help you in hiding someone’s body?”
“Literally shut up. Oikawa is right there.”
“Oikawa... Tooru?” following your line of sight, Rintaro’s back slouched at the same time his lips curled into a mischievous smile. You could tell he was stifling his laughter; the vibrations of his back spoke enough of his urge to betray you. “Oh, he’s looking here. At you, I might say — care to explain?”
“I have nothing to explain to you. We’re not even friends.”
“Ouch,” Rintaro clutched at his chest, “That hurt. Weren’t you at my dorm like five nights in a row last week? You didn’t want me to leave the bed either. I thought we had something special!”
“Suna Rintaro, I am not fucking around with you. Shut up. I swear if Oikawa walks here, I’m never talking to you again.”
As if to prove a point, you plopped until your upper body squished against his back and the chair, cheeks puffing out in frustration as Rintaro sighed. “Okay, you don’t have to explain anything to me, but come on. You’re using me as a human shield and I have zero context on what’s going on,” he tapped your thigh, head slightly tilted to the side with a wary eye out for Oikawa. “Listen, if he’s bothering you, I could deal with it. He looks like the type of guy who doesn’t know what ‘no’ means so if that’s the case, stop hiding. I can help you with it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
Your grip on his hoodie listened. Peering up from the bottom of your lashes, you nervously licked your lips. “Wait... you mean that? You’ll really help me?”
“Yeah! You send me nudes that motivate me to ace my exams so this is the least I could do.”
“You just have to make everything sexual, don’t you?” you rolled your eyes and ignored Rintaro’s shameless smile. Scanning the room, you glared at Oikawa’s direction before sitting up and gluing yourself to Rintaro’s hip, whose brow raised but said nothing otherwise. “Okay, so the thing is... my friends may or may not have set me up with Oikawa. They kind of gave him false hope I’m really into him — which I never will be because he has a shitty personality — but he’s not having any of it. He insisted I should go with him on just one date, and if I still don’t change my mind about him, then he won’t push further. Otherwise, he really doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s everywhere that I ended up blurting out I was already dating someone.”
Rintaro rested his chin on his palm. “That’s a lot of information to take in,” he mused, “So... you need help in finding a fake boyfriend, is that it?”
“About that,” with guilt written all over your face, you scratched the back of your neck and chuckled, making sure to avoid eye contact the entire time. “You were the first one to come to mind so I told him I was dating the middle blocker from his team. The uhm, guy who stays up until three am fighting in Twitter threads.”
Rintaro’s jaw dropped. “No way,” he clicked his tongue, hands coming up to ball beside your cheeks as he fought the desire to squeeze your cheeks. Meanwhile, you blinked at him innocently, lower lip jutted out in hopes you’d appease him — which more or less worked as he slumped in his seat. “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”
“I didn’t have a choice!”
“You did and you chose to date me!” Rintaro hissed under his breath, “Jeez, if you wanted us to be official, you could’ve said so. I would’ve thought about it,” exhaling through his nose, Rintaro pushed his hair back, his head too much of a mess to notice you getting flustered. “Fine. I’ll be your fake boyfriend, but don’t you dare fall in love with me. Our condition when we started sleeping together was that we’re limited to casual relationships only. I like our arrangement already, and you mean a lot to me as a friend so I don’t want to lose you, alright? Whatever we’re doing, it’s all going to be an act.”
“Deal,” you shook his hand, face lighting up at how it didn’t take much to convince him. “Now go to the party with me tonight. We’ll show Oikawa why he can’t have me.”
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The sight of bodies grinding onto another and music blaring through the speakers weren’t new to you and Rintaro. You’d both seen the same scene a thousand times before, having been part of that crowd at one point. Yet, tonight felt different from rest. The music felt muted as you walked through the door with Rintaro’s hand down on your waist, the stench of alcohol and sex overpowered by the musky perfume your fake boyfriend wore.
You couldn’t think clear around him.
You tried to blame it on the jitters that set your nerves on fire, anxiety pooling in your stomach at the thought Oikawa made it clear he wanted to see you tonight.
Of course, you weren’t stupid. Knowing the guy infamous for his reputation for sleeping around and changing partners like they were his clothes, he wouldn’t give up once he had his eyes set on someone. It just so happened that unfortunate person had to be you.
“Relax,” Rintaro breathed into your ear, pulling you closer by the hip when you weaved through the people nearly fucking on the floor. The sudden gesture had you jolting for a split second. Blinking, Rintaro’s reassuring smile greeted you with a tinge of amusement, his gaze tracing down your nails forming crescent moons on his arm. “Do you really have to cling to me all night?”
“We’re supposed to be a couple madly in love, remember?” you reminded with a bounce of your heel, surveying the throng of people milling in and out of the frat house in search of Oikawa.  “You should kiss me too as soon as we see him. Then he’ll stop bothering me and we can be over with this fiasco.”
“Asking just in case, but how should I kiss you? Like a peck?”
“Kiss me like you want the whole world to know I’m yours,” you said nonchalantly, not thinking too much of it since this was supposed to be an act. Until a horde of loud males started cheering as soon as they entered the room, the crowd welcoming Oikawa and his friends warmly when Rintaro suddenly grabbed you by the wrist, twisting you to face him. The last thing you saw before Rintaro tilted his head to the side to press his lips to yours was the look of utter horror on Oikawa’s face.
Although, honestly, who cared? Rintaro tasted like beer and strawberries, his musky scent clouding your senses that your eyes closed in response.
Knees weakening, you grabbed onto Rintaro’s shoulders to steady yourself, gasping into his greedy lips when you felt him squeeze your hip possessively. You groaned into the kiss, your hands running up to play with the ends of his hair as Rintaro’s back hit the wall, his bent leg trapped between your thighs. He quickly took the chance and nudged his knee on your clothed pussy. Your skirt grazed against your sensitive core that you attempted to pull away to breathe, but Rintaro wasn’t having any of it.
Smirking beneath you, Rintaro hooked a finger into the chains dangling from your skirt and pulled you flush against him. You had no time to react before he was pushing a tongue past your lips. Warm, wet muscles danced against each other as Rintaro memorized the taste of you the same way you did for him — not a single care about air anymore when he made those low, deep whimpers setting fire to your loins.
But just as soon as you leaned in for more, his hair tugged backward to deepen the kiss, Rintaro pulled away. “That’s how I’d kiss you if I were your boyfriend,” he declared, pads of his thumb swiping against his moist lip swollen from the little nips you gave him — the look of pleasure and satisfaction displayed all over his handsome face that told you how much he enjoyed your needy whines.
You gaped at him, your skin burning from being edged.
Rintaro flicked you on the forehead. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked me to kiss like I wanted to let the world know your mine, and he was looking. Besides, we need to show someone who you belong to, right?” pushing his weight off the wall, Rintaro lightly bit your earlobe as you breathed hard, his sharp, cold gaze focused on a flushed red Oikawa standing across the room. “I have a better idea if you’re up for it.”
Arms crossed against your chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist in faux affection, when in reality you only needed to hear what he said through the loud music. “What do you have in mind?” The smirk on Rintaro’s face was as loud as a warning siren.
“Turn around.”
Even if you didn’t want to, Rintaro wasn’t asking. He spun you around by the shoulders, your back flushed against his chest when you felt his knee nudge between your legs once more. His fingers calloused from playing volleyball snaked past your thigh and dangerously close to your heated pussy. “This is what I had in mind,” he whispered, his voice sending tingles straight down your spine. “Let’s burn that pretty face of yours into his head. Show him what he can’t have.”
Your dignity told you to say no. To be fingered in public like this was less than ideal, even more so when your lace panties dangerously flashed into view. Yet, you found yourself arching your back to retaliate.
Ass nudging against Rintaro’s hardening cock, you smirked upon hearing his low groans. One palm cupped your ass as a warning before he playfully snapped your underwear against your thigh, a wince painting your half fucked out features from the sting. Glancing at him from the side, you sneered, about to protest when he wiggled his free hand and cupped your pussy.
Your mouth hung open.
Oikawa’s drink fell from his hands. No longer was he paying any attention to his friends, rather on the way you keened and your tongue threatening to loll out your lips the moment Rintaro’s thumb flicked your clit.
“You’re such a naughty slut. Who knew you were into this?”
“He’s watching, Rintaro,” you whimpered, gripping at his wrist like he wasn’t knuckle deep in your pants already. “Someone could see and think we’re—”
“That’s the point,” lowering his mouth onto your neck, you gasped at his teeth sinking down on the skin. Behind you, you could hear the hand on your ass disappear at the sounds of a belt unbuckling, fuelling your imagination to both the best and worst scenarios. Rintaro wasn’t far behind in his surprise as were you; you never expected you’d enjoy giving someone a show either, much less cum on the spot the second Rintaro’s cock slipped inside you. “Aw, fuck, did you just come undone for me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”
You shook your head, palms slippery with sweat as you held onto his slick hands squeezing your waist. The music was no longer audible from the pounding of your heart. Hell, you could barely feel your legs when Rintaro mumbled something incoherent around you before he guided your connected bodies onto a nearby couch.
Plopping down with your weight on top of him, you held onto his knees for dear life. Rintaro settled on the leather couch occupied by a stoned student laughing by himself, the latter’s chuckles halting when he was greeted by the sight of your hazy eyes and pants falling from your mouth. Meanwhile, Rintaro rested his arms on the back of his head. He didn’t have to lift a finger, much less give a command for you to know he wanted you to ride him right here — if you looked straight across, Oikawa would be right before you a few feet away, his frown deeply engraved into his face.
“Rin, I...”
He sat up in a flash at the hesitance in your voice, warm hands wrapping around your waist protectively. It took you a second to realize he hid his nestled cock from everyone’s prying eyes in case you weren’t comfortable, but the gesture did nothing but make you clench around him harder — both from the anxiety and anticipation.
You’d never admit it out loud, but you wanted people to watch. You wanted him to see Rintaro had total control over your body, no matter how humiliating the situation might be.
“Do you want us to stop? Should we go somewhere else?”
You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you bent your legs to rest beside his thighs, fingers looping around the ones hooked under your breast to steady yourself before you lifted your hips, then slammed back down. Again and again, until sweat dripped from your head to your jaw, you kept eye contact with a red-faced Oikawa. All the while as you bounced on Rintaro’s dick and threw your head back, laughing with your whole chest at the lights spinning from the ceiling since it reminded you of the seventh heaven you were in.
Rintaro let you go at your own pace, his grunts and garbled utterances of your name blending with the party wilding from the background. You could feel him twitching inside of you. His cock bumped and grazed your walls until the tip kissed a particular sensitive spot that had you losing your balance for a moment, nails digging into his ripped jeans to catch your breath.
“Goddamn,” Rintaro cursed, stealing away your ability to breathe with his hand snaking into your neck. “You dirty fucking slut, getting off to acting like a whore in front of the whole campus, huh? Go on. Show them how you’re such a whore for my cock.”
You couldn’t swallow down your words.
Rintaro’s grip on your neck had you on a literal chokehold, strong enough to deprive you of air and tighten around him, but not to a point you felt lightheaded. If anything, the power he displayed only fuelled you to ride him harder. Drawing figure eights with your hip, you could feel drool smearing your lipstick as the red stains smudged against Rintaro’s palm, the sound of slick and skin slapping against skin like music to your ears.
Only Rintaro could ever make you feel this way.
From the night you’d met him, each time you fucked would be the best experience of your life. Not once had he failed in bringing you over the edge or experimenting with the most absurd positions you’d never thought of before, and now you were returning the favour.
You rode his cock like it was your last mission. ‘Death by cock’ didn’t sound like such an unfavourable thing either, not when it meant losing yourself in his thick girth spreading you wide and the lewd sight of your cum sticking to his thighs. His jeans were a mess, but Rintaro never complained. He didn’t care then, and he wouldn’t care now. Seeing you dirty his clothes, your sweat dampening his shirt and your own cum coating his cock like a rewarding trophy of what felt like the best night of his life — Rintaro didn’t give a single fuck about the mess.
“F-Fuck, Rin, I’m coming!”
Rintaro held your waist, taking over with complete control as he slammed your hips up and down his twitching cock, curses falling back and forth from his mouth. “Cum on me,” he ordered. Resting his chin on your shoulders, Rintaro’s other hand twisted your jaw in the direction of Oikawa biting his lip, his hand suspiciously following your movements from under the luminescent lights. “Look at that dirty fucker. Let’s show him what he missed out on, yeah?”
A burst of warmth exploded inside you. You were too stunned to move, thighs burning from the ache that you accepted it with delight before falling back into Rintaro’s chest. “That was the best fuck of my life,” you admitted through lidded eyes, “But we’re fucked tomorrow. The whole campus is going to talk about us.”
“Let them.”
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Post-nut clarity hit you hard like a truck.
Albeit expecting the rumours and looks you’d be getting the next day, the blatant impressed stares mixed with some envious ones never got easier by the end of classes. Everywhere you went, people would be whispering. But like Rintaro always used to say each time you cried to him, there’d be light at the end of the tunnel, because the best part of it all that made everything worth it?
Oikawa avoided you like the plague. Not because he was appalled of what he’d witnessed and what he’d done, but rather word spread out how he’d been rejected.
For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru felt humiliation, at the hands of his own teammate, no less — something Rintaro took pride in when you crashed by his room that night.
“You should’ve seen the look on his face. It was priceless,” he snickered while scrolling through the phone, about to comment when the door swung open, revealing a carbon copy replica of Rintaro. In female version.
Rintaro quickly shot out of bed and threw a blanket over your head, stalking to the girl standing with her mouth hanging ajar at the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys wouldn’t be home until the weekend. Plus, how’d the fuck you get inside the dorms? You’re not supposed to be here, Remi.”
Remi ignored him. “Are you hiding your girlfriend? Mom needs to know about this, she’d love to meet her!”
That was how you found yourself stuck to Rintaro in a cramped booth with his family not an hour later. You awkwardly picked at your food, stealing glances at an equally silent Rintaro while his younger sister, Remi, kept babbling about how her brother hid a girlfriend this whole time. His family went out of town for business for a while, but since they got home earlier, they decided to surprise Rintaro with a visit.
He sure was surprised, and so were you since they hadn’t stopped calling you ‘dear’ ever since.
His parents were nice — they warmly welcomed you and even invited you to have dinner with them sometime at their house. Mrs. Suna would whip up a meal to welcome you as part of their family, saying that you should consider it a thanks for making their son smile. Remi was the most excited out of all them. She’d been wanting an older sister for a while now, and she hadn’t stopped clinging onto your arm the whole time until her parents forcefully snatched her away when it was time go back home.
The entire walk back to the dorms felt suffocating.
None of you spoke a word, not until you arrived at your building and Rintaro shoved his hands down his pockets, swinging back and forth on his feet. “So... are you free this Friday? You should come have dinner with us.”
“You’re seriously asking me that?”
“Why not? You’re invited. Don’t be rude and not go.”
“It’s not being rude, Rintaro, you’re asking me to lie to your parents,” you snapped, halting in your tracks to stare at him in disbelief. “They adored me all because they think I’m dating you, but we’re not the least bit close to that. We just fuck and call it day, maybe hang out when we’re bored, but we don’t know each other at all. And weren’t you the one who told me that we can’t be more than just fuck buddies?”
Rintaro rolled his eyes. “You’re right, but I agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend to push Oikawa away. Now do me a favour and keep up with the fake girlfriend thing. My parents will be devastated if I tell them we’re not real.”
“I don’t want to lie to them!”
“It’s not a big deal! Why’re you making a mountain out of everything? So because the deal on my side doesn’t require fucking, you’ll back out just like that?”
Your mouth hung open in shock. “It’s because I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend, Rintaro, I want to date you for real!” you blurted out, eyes widening at the same time Rintaro’s cheeks flushed. Realizing what you just said, you inwardly regretted it with a grimace. “I’m sorry. You said we can’t be more than that and I know I just ruined our friendship, but I’m really sorry. I can’t bring myself to lie to your family like that, and I don’t want to lie about my feelings either,” hanging your head down low, you bit the insides of your cheeks. No matter what you said, you couldn’t take it back anymore.
“Rintaro, I like you. You make me happy and I want to do the same for you, but I understand if we’re done now. It was nice to have met you.”
Without waiting for his response, you ran back into the building when a hand wrapped around your wrist. You stared at the long fingers and to the arm connected to it, heart sinking into your chest when you came face to face with Rintaro’s handsome face.
“You didn’t even give me a chance to speak.”
“I’m sure you don’t want to be near me, Rintaro.”
Rintaro sniffed, averting the intensity of your gaze and shrugging his shoulders shly. “On the contrary... I’d like to spend every waking minute with you,” he mumbled so soft that you wouldn’t have heard it if you didn’t listen hard enough, but you did, and you were left gaping at him with warmth spreading through your skin. You stood there, watching as Rintaro laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry if I said that a little too late, but yes. I’d like to be your real boyfriend. Then I can fuck you exclusively because I don’t think I like the idea of you riding other people like that.”
You swatted his arm away with a laugh. “That’s the reason you want to date me?”
“There’s other reasons too like how I love talking to you and I want to get to know you more,” he cupped your face, grinning when his palms felt the warmth emanating from your skin. “And also, I want to do this more with you.”
Leaning down, Rintaro kissed you under the flickering lights of your hallway, the both of your lips stretching into a smile. In a way, you were thankful your friends tried setting you up with someone else, because if you’d known it would lead you to realizing your feelings for Rintaro, you would’ve asked him to date you a little earlier.
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violetarks · 8 months ago
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"i like you, i like you, i like you!"
show: alien stage
characters: till, ivan, luka
summary: in an attempt to make the new season of alien stage even more riveting, the pr team has decided to stage a relationship between you and one of the other contestants. despite it all being for show, can you two really keep it strictly business?
warnings: g/n! reader,, fake dating lmao, till has never seen someone else's back before, LUKA IS 30-YEARS-OLD????, you two share a room in till and ivan's, luka is condescending in his
↣ till
flashing lights from cameras and yells to 'look over here' are tiring to you now. while you were accustomed to it, being a model and all, you found this limelight to be much different. 'alien stage' wasn't like your job. and your guardian seemed far less hesitant to sign away your life than you would've hoped.
you hooked your arm around till's, standing in front of the back drop with 'alien stage' written in patterns on it. your 'boyfriend' was never one for this kind of thing, whereas it was your specialty. putting on a gentle smile and standing still for the audience was all you were made out to be. till couldn't help but squirm beside you, hands in his pockets and his face scrunched up in irritation.
"this freakin' sucks." he grumbles to you as more yells go out to you two and the other contestants.
"we'll be back in our rooms in a few minutes." you retort, not sparing at look at him. you only slide your arm to rest against his hip, pulling him taut against your side.
he squeaks, feeling his face heat up at the touch. but at the empty look in your eyes and the faux smile, he groans, placing his own arm around your shoulders lazily.
a reporter begs you forward, and one of the pr managers nods at you. you sigh softly, leading till towards them. they speak in a different tongue, and the tablet they provide give you real-time translations, showing up in holograms. a camera is shoved into your face and till scoffs, pushing it further from him.
"how long have you two been together for?"
"four months." you respond, brain reading off a script. you look to till, who suddenly looks back at you. your smile is superficial, but you hold his arm with urgency. "isn't that right?"
"yeah." he replies shortly.
"how have you been encouraging each other for this season?"
"we practice every day together." you say, tilting your head a little. your signature smile earns some more camera flashes. till can barely see, making his cover his vision with a hiss.
"any fear that you two might be facing each other?"
you freeze up for a moment, swallowing your nerves. you're running through every line possible, what was the answer? did you remember what you needed to say? why were you now drawing a blank? "well, thats—"
till drags you by your arm, taking you way from the reporter before scoffing out, "not a chance."
the walk down the carpet, behind mizu, sua and ivan, consisted of more flashes and calls. you don't answer them, only walking beside till and grinning at every reporter you see. this brand deal with some few names depended on you. meanwhile, till was showing them all his index finger, mouthing curse words at everyone who looked his way.
you have your arm around his waist again, and he wraps his around your shoulder. you look to him for a split second to see him already looking at you.
the doors close behind you two as you enter your shared room. two beds, two bathrooms, pretty much two different bedrooms, just meshed into one. till's one is to the left, and he flops onto it, not even bothering to rid himself of his clothes. you, on the other hand, open your closet.
"thanks." you say, breaking the silence as you unbutton your top.
till lifts his head to see you facing your closet instead of him. the sight of your bare back makes his face the ceiling again, red face. you don't notice, instead continuing to change into comfortable clothes.
"it's nothin'." he retorts, hands behind his head as he rests on his bed. you let out a hum, pulling a shirt over your head to cover your stomach. he finally looks back to you. "you don't get tired of all these questions, or do you just like hearing your own voice?"
he's been like this ever since you were little, teasing you and all. while you entertained him, teasing him back, you grew older and soon lost that part of you when you were adopted into the real world. till would rarely see you after that, only on billboards. it would be a lie to say that one of the few reasons he didn't oppose to joining alien stage is to see you again.
he doesn't know whether you feel the same about him. he can't tell from the way you act with him in public, all clingy and happy, compared to how you are in private. have you always been this distant?
"of course i get tired." you reply, changing into your sweatpants. your head hurts. "but they think it's better if i talk than if you do."
"tch." he clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes as you close your closet door, "whatever..."
you go quiet again, rubbing your face, as you hear till get up from his bed. you continue to get ready for bed and you assume he's going to change his clothes and do the same as he ruffles through his closet. but after a few seconds you come back into the room, he's laying on your bed, resting his head upon your pillow. you look to him as you turn off the bathroom light.
"what? 's cold." he's wearing a tank top and sleeping shorts.
"right." you scoff, shaking your head. you blink at him, slight smile on your lips with upturned brows. he furrows his own brows and pout his lips as he turns to the wall. your stupid face...
you turn off the lights to your shared room, sliding into the bed. you can hear till's breathing and how he swallows his nerves. his back is nearly touching your shoulder. it wasn't a small bed, a queen size, but till was laying right in the middle and you didn't like being right against the edge. you face the ceiling, listening to him.
he doesn't know what to do. he's slept in your bed with you before. it always feels the same; it's always awkward. this is the closest he ever gets to you.
till is more than surprised when he feels your hands snake around his waist, pulling yourself to mold against him. your warm transfers to his back and your legs nudge against his. with your head against his shoulder, he's sure that you can hear his pacing heart.
"are you still cold?" you question, breath hitting the back of his neck. he shivers in your arms, making you hold him a little more taut against him. "i, uh... i don't want you to get sick."
"n—no." he stammers, breathing heavier. he's staring into the faded outline of the bedside table with your lamp and your headphones, trying to calm his heart. "thank you. you feel nice."
"really?" you hum out, hair tickling his neck. your lips brush against his skin at how close you are to him.
he shivers again and he mutters out, "sh—shut up! go to sleep!"
you go quiet after that, and till almost believes you listened to him. but your sudden movement to sit up behind him makes him turn his head to face you. except he catches the outline of your face, leaning close to his own. he has no time to react before you're pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.
he's still, unable to move at how close you are to him. your chest is pressed against his, hand on the other side of the bed. till holds his breath, eyes wide as you barely kiss him.
when you pull away, he's staring at your figure. he doesn't know how you really feel, but maybe it's similar to how he does. before you can say anything, till's arms are wrapping around your neck and pulling you down.
you lay on your side, facing till and he hugs you to his chest. he's on his side as well, nose buried in your hair as he squeezes his eyes shut. due to your position, you can hear his heartbeat pumping as fast as it can. you chuckle, pulling your arms around him and feeling him shiver.
you chuckle, hugging him again, "goodnight, till."
"night, y/n." he sighs out. you were too much.
↣ ivan
"another photoshoot?" you sigh, looking away from the city-scape in your window. ivan, with his arms crossed against the wall, nods his head. you roll your eyes, eyes to the window again. "i'm not going."
"there's no debate." he retorts, shaking his head. he lifts himself from his position, moving to the clothes set on your separate beds. unzipping the bag, he sees the dark red material inside. this was just for the public view, not for the shoot itself. still, it was so... 'out there'.
you look at him, knit brows. "are you being serious?"
"you better hurry, we have to be at makeup in thirty minutes." he tells you, unbuttoning his collared shirt, "you don't want them to drag you out, do you?"
you click your tongue, getting up from your chair and marching towards your bed. ivan followed your movements with his eyes, turning to see you still annoyed as you roughly open the clothes. "stupid brand deals... why are you so freakin' popular, ivan?"
he sighs at your question, looking at you with pointed eyes, "you always complain."
you glare back at him before you both turn around and start changing. it's not long before you're ready and you have to be escorted by the guards to your photoshoot with some new designer brand. the ride down in the glass elevator shows you the crowd outside waiting for your arrival. the guards in front of you shield you from the flashes as soon as you land on your floor and walk outside.
ivan holds his head up high, showing a soft smile and waves at the fans and paparazzi. he wasn't afraid of the fame, it was just a product of how hard work. glancing down at you, he sees how you glare at the floor, clutching at the fabric around your wrist.
he internally groans, slipping a hand through yours and tugging you to stand closer to him. you make a small noise, bumping shoulders with him. "just relax." he whispers to you, giving you a smile that makes you feel a bit belittled, "we'll be in our ride soon. smile."
you glare at him a little before squeezing his hand, turning to the cameras and giving your most comfortable smile possible right now. with both you and ivan showing off your faces, the flashes doubled. it blinds you, and you're almost thankful for the car taking you to your photoshoot as it separates you from the public.
"ugh." you grunt, rubbing your eyes after dropping ivan's hand, "i'm gonna' lose my sight. i'm... i'm actually crying from how bright their lights are."
he glances at you, leaning his arm against the window. you were literally tearing up from the bright lights. ivan raises a brow before reaching forward towards you with his free hand.
"you're fine, stop whining." he huffs, brushing your tears with his thumb. he begs you to look at him, fingers guiding your chin to face him. you drop your own hands from your face, showing your irritated face. "don't look at me like that."
"i'm not doing anything." you claim with the same expression, letting him hold your face in his hand now. he was somewhat warm, even with the gloves he was wearing.
"right." he hums to you, bringing you closer. you let out a scoff as you shift closer to him, one hand grasping at his wrist and the other pressed against the cushion of the seat. your loose hold on him doesn’t do much.
ivan can feel your cheeks heat up under his touch, but your annoyed look stays. “don’t ruin your pretty face like that.”
you blink at him before pulling away, clicking your tongue, “shut your mouth.”
he watches as you face the window, crossed arms. it was cute how you played this act no matter what. ivan knows when people like him, it’s a skill he had acquired from being so popular. and he knows that you don’t hate him.
when getting into the photoshoot, ivan walks in front of you, having been here a thousand times before. the other individuals of all different space races stop to stare at you. ivan’s partner. you’ve never had a photoshoot done before.
you hold into the edge of ivan’s sleeve, walking close with him. you look around at everyone, accidentally bumping into ivan’s back for the lack of attention you were paying. he’s talking to who is probably the director, explaining to him what was going to happen. you understand very little, but you hear your name and suddenly feel another hand on your elbow.
“ivan.” you mutter out, now clutching onto his hand tightly. he looks back to you and the stylist asking you to come along. you look scared, not wanting to go alone.
he talks to the director for a moment before nodding at you. “let’s go. we have an hour before the shoot begins.” he says, holding your hand gently and leading you to the change rooms.
you are given your outfit not long after, the stylist setting up a divider so you can have privacy. ivan sits on the sofa on the other side, leg over his knee and an arm resting on the back of the couch as he waits for you.
when he hears you stop shuffling around, he listens closely. “ivan…?” you call quietly.
“i’m here.” he retorts. he watches as you step out from the divider and show your outfit. it fit you nicely, you looked breath-taking, yet you stand there nervously. he stands, clearing his throat and walking over to you. he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. he finds himself staring. “it looks good.”
you look at yourself in the mirror. “i don’t know.”
he stands behind you, peering at your expression in the mirror. “you look amazing.”
you stare at him for a moment before you sigh, “okay. you can go ahead—“
ivan presses a kiss to your cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling away slowly. he doesn't know what came over him, he's never acted out like this. but you were just so captivating in that moment, how could he not kiss you?
you seem just surprised as he feels. you turn to face him, palm resting against where he kissed you.
“ivan—!” you mumble out, your face unbearably hot. he smiles a little before the stylist and makeup artist come in.
they talk with ivan for a moment before handing him his outfit and gesturing to the divider. he gives you a nod before you are whisked away to a joint room, where your makeup would be done.
your eyes never leave ivan, not until he goes behind the divider. and now you have to sit and get your makeup done while your mind is running.
↣ luka
he loves the attention he got on stage. the way his singing was appreciated was like nothing he had ever gotten. the press was always on luka, being a past alien stage winner. and since you were assigned as his partner, that meant all eyes were on you too.
you knew who he was, he was all over the billboards and the tv back at home. you were surprised when you saw him in real life, and even more-so when you found out that you were going to be his 'partner' in order to up the popularity in alien stage's new season.
sure, you had your fair share of popularity as well, but did that really make you the best candidate for this task? at first you were afraid of messing it up, but now? you wish they would fire you.
"singing is everything, y/n." luka says to you, watching as you put the mic back on its stand.
the stadium is nearly empty, which is perfect for you and luka as it was time for the both of you to practice and the stage was the best place. however, you despised the camera crew that had to come along. luka was in the middle of filming this documentary based off the behind the scenes of his shows. since alien stage was his most recent, and you happened to have struck a deal with the producers, that meant you were also going to be in this.
you glance at the camera as it zooms in on luka, sitting in the chair directly in front of the stage. he continues on, "you need to practice those runs, sweet thing. we don't want to be pitchy, now, do we?"
you want to throw the mic stand at his stupid face. he was so condescending, showing off his fake smile as if to lighten the blow of saying you were 'pitchy'. you click your tongue, masking your irritation with a nod of your head.
"good." he replies, clapping his hand, "now, shall we take it from the top?"
you internally groan at him. he had made you run through the song three times already, and it wasn't dwelling well on you. "why don't you start practicing, luka? my voice is about to give out." you offer, rubbing your throat.
he thinks for a moment before looking to the camera. "i suppose i can show off a little now." he sends a wink, as if to swoon anyone watching. you roll your eyes and head off the stage.
the camera pans to the both of you in the single frame. luka hands you your drink bottle, standing from the seat and allowing you to rest on it. as you sit down, you stretch your neck, closing your eyes.
luka reaches a hand around and cradles the back of your head. it's supposed to be comforting, but the feeling of the camera on you makes it the opposite. he has this dazed look in his eyes when he stares at you. a few seconds later, he seems to snap back to reality, opting to lean down and press a kiss to your forehead. "rest up, my star."
you watch as he gets up on the stage, fixing the microphone to his height. luka begins his warm-ups and vocal runs, and the camera suddenly turns to you.
"what do you have to say about luka's singing?" the director asks you.
"he's talented for sure." you respond, opening your drink bottle, "he knows what he's good at and excels at it. luka's got a beautiful singing voice and he uses it very well. like his falsetto, not many male contestants can hit his notes comfortably. he uses that to his advantage."
the camera lingers on you as you turn back to luka, who has started his music up.
it was all from a script, luka had given you clear instructions to say those things. you were hesitant at first, thinking you should be honest, but after seeing how strict it was that luka have a good reputation, you decided it was best just to listen to him. in return, he said he would hold back on the passive-aggressiveness. that seemed like a lie now.
an hour or so later, the others leave, claiming that they had more than enough footage for the day. it was good to leave you two alone to practice, not having to act with the cameras up.
you sit on the edge of the stage, utterly exhausted with your legs dangling on the edge. your drink bottle is beside you, and you gulp the rest of it down. luka stretches his back as he stands up from the chair, letting out a sigh of relief.
"well done, maybe you have a chance of winning this." he claims, walking towards you, "don't worry, just do your best, lovely."
he comes to stand in between your legs, hands on top of both of your knees. you glance at him finally, raising a brow. he was being somewhat nice to you, despite there being no cameras on around you. you give one last look around the stadium. "y'know there's no cameras. you can drop it."
luka grins, tilting his head. "i'm not acting, good-looking. you don't think i'm telling the truth?"
the smile he has on his face tells you the opposite. he has that look on his face when he's playing around or when he's trying to seem like a charmer to the audience. you've seen luka when he's not like this. you've seen him lash out, frustrated and on the brink of tears. and you've seem him in a way that just looks blank. this facade he carries around annoys you to the core, because you know nobody else has seen this side of him. they think he's a prince.
"you never compliment me out of the good of your heart." you reply, glaring at him a little. he raises a brow.
he holds your chin in his hand, bringing you closer to him. with a small grunt, you obey, furrowed brows. "such an adorable thing like you shouldn't be thinking that way." he claims, smiling at how annoyed you are, "i just love seeing you flustered."
you push his hand away from you, closing your eyes. "shut up, luka."
he doesn't reply to you which is odd. opening your eyes again, you see that he looks almost upset at what you say. at the kicked puppy expression, you go to apologise when luka suddenly leans forward, capturing your lips against his own.
you freeze up, blinking in surprise at his actions. you let his hand go and luka rests it against your neck, pulling you closer towards him. you ultimately melt against luka, reaching a hand to his chest and clutching his shirt. you begin to kiss back without thinking. his lips are cold, much like his fingers are, but with your warmth they heat up.
it lasts only a few seconds before he pulls away, letting go of your neck and resting his hand against yours on his chest. he sees your stunned expression and chuckles, "i'm sorry, love, am i too much for you to handle? you look the cutest when you're all confused like this."
you cover your face, all about embarrassed now. "luka...!"
he laughs some more, bringing you closer and cradling you against him as you sit on the stage. you're so humiliated, how could he catch you like that?
regardless, you slip your hands from between the two of you and hug his waist. while luka might play this game for the publicity and his reputation, you couldn't say the same. you hate to admit it, but in this world, it's nice to have someone who holds you like this. even if it is someone like luka.
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obscure-imagines · 1 year ago
Text
wet dreams - Zoro
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🍃staring. Zoro Roronoa x afab!Reader
⚔️ preview. The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, wet dreams, hand job, blow job, dirty talk, praise, exhibitionism (sex outside in the Crowsnest), cum play/swallowing, fingering, mutual masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, big dick zoro, fingering, overstim, mutual orgasm, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.
🔫 rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I wc. 3.7k
⚔️ aus. One Piece Live Action, pwp, acquaintances to lovers, etc…
🍀 mlist + an. I showed Sanji and Mihawk some love so I figured I might as well adore my big three and make it a full set with Zoro.
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Zoro is exhausted. His body feels heavy as he lumbers around the ship, his footfalls a little too loud on the wooden deck. His eyes are practically shutting on their own, but he resists the need to nap.
He's been having problems lately... when he sleeps.
While he's able to keep himself mostly in check around you during his waking hours, his mind - and body - have been betraying him in dreamland.
He's woken up five nights this week with the soft sounds of your moans etched into his memory and his pants ruined with the sticky truth about his feelings for you.
Naps had once been a time of rest, but Zoro has been anything but restful since Luffy convinced you to join the crew two weeks ago.
Zoro hates feeling like he's not in control. He hates the way you seem so real in his mind's eye, only for him to wake up and watch you acting completely indifferently toward him- as if he didn't just watch you go down on his cock in explicit detail- as if he didn't just try to fuck you so hard you couldn't even walk-
Being around you is something like torture. His tongue gets tied, his heart races, and he's unable to hold a conversation with you about anything unrelated to piracy... and even then, he stumbles over his words and gets frustrated with himself.
You're just too beautiful.
The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.
He does his best to be the last to go to bed, out of fear that someone will walk in while he's sleeping and hear his problem, hell, he wouldn't be shocked if they could even see it.
It's not even midday and Zoro feels like death. It doesn't help that it's hot out. The wind feels practically nonexistent. Everything is stale, sweaty, and full of tension. Even Sanji, who usually dresses in formalwear, has stripped himself of his button-up, opting for an undershirt instead.
Then there's you. Your shorts don't leave much to the imagination, and Zoro has to tear his gaze off of you every time you get within his line of sight. His cock is practically throbbing in his pants anytime you're nearby- anytime your soft scent lingers in the air when you walk past.
"You look like shit."
Zoro sighs at Sanji's words, refusing to look at the chef who's come to lean on the rail next to him, staring out at the sea.
"I mean it. And I'm not trying to be a dick, but seriously moss head, you look like you need some rest," Sanji presses on. "When was the last time you had one of your famous Roronoa naps?"
"I wasn't aware they were famous," Zoro sighs, this conversation is making him even more tired.
"We all know you get a little scratchy without your beauty sleep," Sanji smirks. "Go on, get some rest. It's a shit day, and it will be even more shit if you're in a bad mood. I'll wake you up for dinner."
Usually, Zoro wouldn't do anything Sanji suggests, he wouldn't even entertain it- but the idea of a nap is having a visceral effect on him. He's reminded of the exhaustion that's overtaken him, and the harsh sun is only making things worse.
Zoro lets out a deep breath. "I guess I could use a little shut-eye."
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You let out a loud whimper as Zoro drags his tongue across your neck, holding you close on the deck of the ship. Above, the stars are twinkling, but to the swordsman, all that matters is you. He can hardly see anything else, his mind completely blank except for the feeling of your hand stroking his cock.
"I need more," you tell him, applying just the right amount of pressure.
He's tried dissuading you from sucking his cock, but you're absolutely insatiable for him. Stroking isn't enough, and the promise of filling you up all nice and snug doesn't satisfy you either- no, you want him in your mouth, and you're very verbal about it.
Who is Zoro to deny you?
With a sigh, he agrees, and you sink to your knees immediately.
God, you look beautiful like this.
Your thumb strokes the head of his cock, rubbing through precum as you bring your mouth closer.
You're always a bit of a tease, licking at him gently, pumping his shaft. Zoro can't help but release a small groan, eyes fixed on you, waiting.
When you finally take him into your mouth, Zoro moans, his head lolling back as he enjoys the feeling.
"That's it, angel," he tells you, reaching down to grab at your head, helping you find a rhythm. "Just like that."
You take him so deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat much too easily. The feeling of you choking around him has Zoro's abdomen clenching, and a familiar sensation is growing in his balls-
It's as if you can read his mind, your hand snaking up to massage his most sensitive area while you continue practically gagging yourself on his cock.
The sound is absolutely obscene, and Zoro's never heard anything so pretty.
"If you keep sucking like that, I'm going to cum," he warns you, wanting to hold out to finish in your perfect, needy little cunt-
The way you suck on him even harder makes Zoro think you want him to cum. You want him to release down your throat, want to swallow him up like the good girl you are.
Again, who is Zoro to deny you?
"Fuck, angel," he groans, orgasm rising even faster. "You're always so good for me."
You whimper loudly around his cock, stroking your tongue along the vein that runs the underside of his length while squeezing his balls, and that's all it takes for him to cum.
He lets out a grunt as he shoots his load down your awaiting throat, his brows knitted together in concentration and something close to overstimulation. He whispers your name, over and over like a mantra while you suck him dry, eager for every single drop he can give- you're his greedy little angel, and he loves you with every fiber of his being.
You pull off of him when he's done, staring up at him with eyes that reflect the stars above. Then, you stick out your tongue, proving to him that you'd swallowed all he had to give.
Zoro can't help but reach for you, lifting you back onto your feet so he can grab your face and press his lips against yours eagerly.
He treasures the moments you're in his arms, and there's something so satisfying about the salty taste on your tongue-
"Dinner!"
Zoro sits up so fast he nearly falls out of his hammock. His heart is thundering in his chest, and when his eyes quickly dart to the door, he sees that Sanji hadn't bothered to enter, only called out a word of warning.
Swallowing thickly, Zoro looks down at his pants. He can feel his cum, hot and sticky against his skin, his half-chubbed length angrily confined by pants.
Zoro's not sure who's more upset about being woken up from his dream, himself, or his cock.
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Luffy has already gone through half the food by the time Zoro saunters into the dining area. The swordsman's eyes are downcast while he takes a seat next to the captain, and you're kind of glad for that- you want to watch him, but you doubt you'd be able to make eye contact with him right now.
Your skin tingles with the forbidden knowledge that you now have. Your mind keeps replaying the scene you'd walked in on not half an hour ago; Zoro, asleep, his brows knitted together, your name on his lips.
You hadn't stayed long upon finding him in that state, your skin too hot with the realization of what you'd just witnessed, and now, that fevered sensation returns.
You've always had a bit of a crush on Zoro, but you'd never in your wildest dreams imagined that it could be returned. Out of everyone on the ship, Zoro interacts with you the least. He practically avoids you, and you've just spent two weeks thinking he doesn't even like you-
No, this changes everything.
The man with green hair lifts his gaze, and your eyes meet momentarily, only for you to look away, skin flaring again. Your heart is practically beating out of your ribcage, and you can feel your panties sticking uncomfortably to your core.
You'll have to do something about this. You're not sure what- but... you definitely can't go much longer with this kind of unresolved tension. One dinner with a dripping pussy is enough.
You decide you'll have to confront Zoro, and something tells you that you'll thank God for doing so.
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Once everyone is asleep, you slowly tiptoe out of the sleeping quarters. Zoro has been staying up late, keeping watch in the Crowsnest, and you feel like that's a perfect place to talk with him. There's no way he can escape... unless he jumps into the ocean and risks his life- but you don't think it will come to that... or at least, you hope it doesn't.
Carefully climbing the ladder, you think of all the things you can say to him. You're not sure where to even begin, and as you make it to the top, poking your head through the manhole to stare at Zoro's broad shoulders, all the words you'd planned slip your mind.
He hasn't noticed you yet, and it takes closing the ladder cover for him to finally hear you, whipping around with his hand reaching for one of his blades.
Zoro freezes. You both do.
Then his hand drops to his side. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought..." you bite at your lip, "I thought you might want some company."
He gives you a quick once over, then turns to look out at the sea again. "I'm good."
"Why do you act like you hate me so much?" you sigh, ignoring his dismissal and moving to join him.
"I don't act like I hate you."
"You hardly talk to me."
"I'm not a big talker."
You let out another exasperated sigh. There's some truth in what he's just said. "Then I'll talk."
"Go ahead."
Staring out at the sea, you're once again at a loss for what to say. After a few moments of silence, you decide to just... put it all on the table. "I walked in while you were napping earlier."
Zoro goes rigid next to you.
"What were you dreaming about?"
He's quiet, then he turns to look at you. "Sword fighting."
"I didn't think you'd actually lie to me," you frown.
"Who says I'm lying?"
"I just- I don't think sword fighting would lead to you moaning my name over and over."
Zoro looks out at the sea again. "You must think I'm some kind of pervert."
"Trust me, I don't," you assure him. "I'm kind of curious about what we were doing in your dream."
He sneaks a glance at you, and there's a hint of a smile that curls onto his pretty lips. "Yeah?"
You nod. "Maybe... maybe I've been having 'sword fighting' dreams too. We could... compare notes, or something."
Zoro lets out a laugh, shaking his head. The chuckle dies down into a groan. "Fuck." He grips the railing tighter, taking a deep breath. "You really wanna know what we were doing in my dream?"
"Yes, please."
The swordsman turns to face you, crossing his arms over his chest. "You were down on your knees, sucking the fucking soul out of my cock."
If your panties hadn't been ruined at dinner, they're definitely ruined now. "I was?"
"Uh huh. You were begging for it. Begging for every last drop."
Your mouth practically waters at the idea. "And did you give it to me?"
"Of course I did," he says softly, scanning your face. "How could I not?"
"Should we..." Your skin heats at the words about to come out of your mouth, "Can we make that dream real?"
Zoro sucks in a shaky breath. "I think I have a better idea."
"A better idea than me sucking your cock?" You're shocked.
"You're always so good to me in my dreams, maybe I want to be good to you."
Your pussy throbs at the insinuation of what he's saying. Most men would jump at the chance to have your mouth around them, but it looks like tonight, the swordsman wants to be the one pleasuring you-
He's just like the Zoro from your wet dreams, and you have a suspicion that when it gets down to it, he'll be even better.
You can't help yourself any longer, you practically launch your body at him, throwing your arms around his strong shoulders while his hands catch you. Your lips meet as if it's the most natural thing in the world, a soft groan escaping him when you swipe your tongue across his mouth, already eager for entrance.
The kiss deepens, and his hands grip you tighter, pulling you flush to his chest. It feels absolutely insane to be actually doing this in your waking hours- nothing your mind could conjure up compares to the real Zoro-
You can feel his cock already pressing against your hip and it makes you whine loudly, shoving your hand between your bodies to cup him through his pants. He's as big as you imagined he would be, and your pussy flutters with interest.
"Zoro-" you whimper, already needing more.
You've been waiting too long for this, for him-
He groans. "Say that again."
One of his hands joins yours between your bodies, but his slips under the waistband of your shorts, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties.
"Fuck, angel, you're already soaked-"
"Zoro!" you moan, louder this time.
"Tell me you want my fingers."
"God, I need them," you gasp when he leans in, pressing kisses and tracing his tongue along your throat. "I need you inside of me- any of you, I just- I need you!"
"Good girl," he says smoothly, pushing your panties to the side.
His fingers make contact with your dripping cunt, and he teases your pussy lips, just dipping inside enough to coat his skin before he circles your clit.
You cry out, squeezing his cock harder-
"Enough of that," Zoro practically slaps your hand away from him. "Tonight is about you. Let it be about you."
"Fuck, you're too nice to me-"
"Trust me, you deserve it." His fingers sink into your pussy and you moan loudly, leaning forward to begin peppering his own throat in kisses. You thread your fingers through his hair, keeping him close as he begins pumping his digits in and out of your wet core.
You can already hear yourself- the sick squelching of your pussy as he works you open. His palm rubs against your clit, creating a delightful pressure that has your legs shaking and your toes curling.
"You sound so pretty."
Who knew he'd be such a sweet talker.
In the exhibitionistic privacy of the Crowsnest, with the crew sleeping soundly below, Zoro is showing you his true colors, and you couldn't be happier.
No one has touched you like this in too long- but then again, has anyone ever actually touched you like this?
You can't believe how close you already are to cumming. Your skin tingles and you moan louder against his neck, moving your mouth up to suckle on his earlobe.
Zoro groans, and the sound goes straight to your aching core.
"Close already?"
All you can manage is a nod, your eyes closing as you focus on the pleasure of his fingers pumping into your wet hole. "Please-"
"You can cum for me," he tells you. "I wanna hear it."
You can hardly even stand on your own. If it weren't for his strong form, steady under your grip, you're sure you'd be falling. His free palm is on the small of your back, keeping you snug to his front while his fingers work you closer and closer-
"Zoro," you whimper again, feeling tears in your eyes from how tight the coil in your stomach has grown.
"Be a good girl and let go for me. Come on, I know you can do it."
You let out a strangled half sob as your high slams into you. Your entire body tingles with electric energy as your core clamps onto his fingers, which continue inside of you, working you through your orgasm. You shake against him, digging your nails into his shoulders while you whimper and moan, lips pressed to his throat.
"That's it," he praises you, a steady guide through one of the most intense orgasms of your life.
You nearly black out, only for his fingers to slow inside of you, drawing you back into your body. Zoro removes his hand from your pants, and you listen to him suck his digits clean, letting out a small groan at your taste.
"Can I lay you down?" he asks next, tone gentle.
You nod, unable to speak. Zoro softly helps you onto the wooden floor of the small Crowsnest, staring at you with dark eyes that seem to sparkle in the moonlight.
He slowly undresses you, watching as you lift your hips to help him remove your shorts. Your shirt and bra are next, and he's careful to set them nearby before removing his own clothing.
"You still want to do this?" he asks.
"There's nothing I want more."
Once he's naked, Zoro gets between your thighs, holding himself over you while you wrap your legs around his hips. You grab at his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.
His hard cock is too enticing for you not to touch, and soon, you're gripping it while your tongues battle. His moans are music to your ears, and you swipe your thumb over the head of his length to smear his skin with precum.
"You know-" he swallows thickly. "After today, after watching you cum on my fingers, I might not last that long."
"That's okay, I won't last long either." Your pussy is already aching for him again, and from the way his cock twitches in your hand, you know he's as into this as you are. "Just fuck me Zoro, please."
He kisses you deeply, allowing you to guide him to your wet hole.
He's big, but you're soaked, and slipping into you is much too easy. He sinks all the way in, his hips flush to yours when he bottoms out. You moan into each other's mouths, and you grab his face, wanting to keep his lips on yours as he begins to thrust into you.
"Fuck, Zoro, it's so good-" you whimper, pussy clenching tightly around him to earn another sound of appreciation.
"Angel, you're fucking perfect," he agrees, pace already quickening.
The sound of skin on skin fills the night air. You open your eyes, looking up at the moon and stars. It feels natural to be with him like this, under the watchful eye of the heavens-
Your nails dig into his shoulders when his hand adjusts your thigh on his hip. He drives deeper into your wet hole, and each thrust has your head spinning.
You can feel him everywhere, and it's the first time you've ever really felt full, complete.
"Zoro," you whisper, gaining his attention as you draw his lips back to your own.
You get lost in him. His cock is filling you perfectly, and his lips feel like they were made to be on your own.
That familiar tightening in your lower abdomen builds much too fast, and each thrust has Zoro grunting and moaning even louder-
"Fuck, angel, I'm close-"
"Me too," you assure him, pressing your forehead to his own and staring into his eyes. "You'll cum with me, right?"
He can only nod as you slip your hand between your bodies, fingers rubbing your sensitive clit-
Your core tightens even more around his thick length and Zoro lets out a deep moan-
"Shit," he mutters, "where should I cum?"
"Inside," you insist. "Cum inside, I'm on birth control, please, I want it, I need it-"
Zoro's hand balls into a fist on the wooden plank by your head, and he groans. "Can't wait-"
"Me neither," you whisper, eyes closing as the feeling ravages your body, "Cumming-"
Zoro buries his face against your throat as you both reach your highs. You can feel him painting your inner walls, making you even more full than you already are with his cock- it's the most delightful feeling.
Your toes curl as he fucks you through it all, his pace even harder than before, if not a bit erratic. The sounds he's making will be something you never forget, and you cling to him like a lifeline, tracing his muscular shoulders and gasping-
It's as if your orgasm lasts ages, and when Zoro's motions finally begin to slow, it's hard to even catch your breath.
He begins to press kisses along your throat again, working his way to your ear, and then your mouth.
You can't help but grin into each soft press of his lips against your own.
"You look happy," he muses.
"That's because I am. Are you happy?"
"Very."
Your smile widens. "So we're done not talking and pretending to be indifferent to each other, right?"
"Completely done."
"Good, because I don't think I could go back to that."
"Me neither," he admits.
"I like you a lot."
Zoro presses another soft kiss to your lips, his pretty eyes twinkling with emotion in a way you've never seen from the swordsman. "I like you too."
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you liked this, check out my fics for Sanji and Mihawk :)
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humanpurposes · 28 days ago
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The Way You Taste
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The lines between friendship and 'more' are becoming difficult to define with you and Aemond. You don't know what's holding you back, but lately you can't shake the feeling that someone is watching you.
modern!vampire!Aemond x reader
Main Masterlist
Warnings: 18+, smut, dub-con, blood play, creepy stuff (tis the season), mentions of murder and violence
Words: 3.8k
A/n: Happy Halloween/Halloween Eve 😼🖤 (depending on your timezone)
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You can’t shake this feeling lately, like someone is watching you.
The season doesn’t help. The clocks went back a few days ago and the new cycle of daylight has thrown you off your axis. The mornings are bright but the night comes quicker. You watched the sun fade from the window in your office and by 4pm it was dark. Insanity.
Sure, you can wear your big coat and a scarf to fight off the cold but your limbs still feel shaky and unsure. And it still feels like there are eyes on you everywhere you go; work; the coffee shop round the corner; the supermarket; the gym; your own unassuming flat on the quiet side of Queen’s Park.
Dany’s obsessed with the news stories, always sending you videos and articles with the latest updates and theories. It began about a month ago when a student was found behind some bins in a service yard off Silk Street with a knife in her neck. She was only eighteen, from a small town in Dorne, eager to get a degree and start her life. She had been out with her flatmates at a well known pub in a busy part of town, went outside for a smoke and that was it. According to the police she might have had a chance if someone had found her. Instead she was left to bleed out for hours.
There have been three deaths in total, the student, a 30-something-year-old regular at the club Seven Heavens, and a bartender at Falling Star. Dany thinks the culprit must be some insane conservative with a twisted sense of morals and decency, determined to punish those who actually live their lives– or so she’s seen online.
You don’t know who the culprit is, you don’t really want to think about it. You can’t stop noticing every face you pass on the street, on the bus, on your way into the office, and you wonder, could they be a killer?
Your hands tremble and fumble with the keys to your front door. The key is funny, you have to sort of push it and pull it as you twist it, but the door opens and you scurry inside. The keys are tossed into their usual dish, your coat and scarf thrown on their hooks, shoes off, bag set down on the floor carefully so you don’t smash your laptop. 
You should lock the door. You will lock the door but your head is pulsing and the cold weather has left your throat dry. You need tea, or water. Maybe you could treat yourself to both. 
There are exactly three rooms in your flat. Bedroom, bathroom and the rest of it. The sight of your sofa covered in papers and notebooks fills you with dread but you move on to the kitchen and clear a space on the counter, setting out a glass and a mug. Teabag in the mug. Water in the glass. Water in the kettle. Fuck, the dishes are piling up. 
Your finger is an inch away from the switch on the kettle when your phone rings. The noise is faint, coming from the hallway because it’s in your coat pocket. So you go back around the counter, past the sofa and into the hallway. The ringtone sounds sharper the closer you get and once you’ve got the phone in your hand the name Aemond Targaryen appears on the screen.
Your heart lurches. You let the phone ring for another second before you answer in an airy voice, “hi.”
There’s a soft hum on the other side. “Hello, you. Did you get home alright?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Good day?”
You have to stop yourself from making a sound of exasperation. There’s only so much you can enjoy about a job when you give everything and get seemingly nothing back. “Fine. Long. Emails.”
Aemond hums. Maybe it’s meant to be sympathy but you have this same problem with Dany, the disappointment when they don’t hear what they want to. 
Dany had been the one to introduce the two of you around the end of August. Aemond is a cousin of her’s and at the time had just moved to King’s Landing from Oldtown. She didn’t know him particularly well, but said he got on with her brother, Viserys, which didn’t paint the best image in your mind. But then you met him and right away you knew he was unlike any other man you’d ever met. He was striking; tall, perfect posture, long silver hair, perfectly fitted suit. And his voice, gentle yet chilling. Hypnotic. 
He asked for your number the second time you met and you had given it to him on the basis that an exchange of numbers wasn’t a commitment. Maybe it meant nothing, maybe he just wanted to be friendly. Sometime over the last two months, ‘friendly’ became text conversations into the early morning hours, became phone calls, became coffees and dinner.
“Is everything okay, Aemond?”
“What are you doing tonight?”
You’ve wandered back into the living room. All the clutter makes you anxious. “Need to clean up a bit, get myself some food.”
“Can I come over?”
“Oh, um, I’d rather you didn’t, my place is a mess.”
“Come over to mine, then. I’ll make you dinner.”
You catch your lip between your teeth. 
You and Aemond had gone for dinner last Saturday night. He told you to wear something nice, picked you up in a cab and took you to a steak restaurant where you knew you could barely afford a side dish, let alone a main. He told you to order whatever you wanted, picked expensive wines to go with the food, insisted you get a dessert, and covered the whole bill.
He saw you home. It would have been a shame to end the night before 9pm, so you invited him in. You showed Aemond around, not that your place is spectacular, but he liked what you did with the bedroom, the plants and the postcards on the wall. In the living room you picked out a bottle of cheap white wine from the fridge. Harmless fun, surely.
All self restraint was gone. You were half delirious and cosying up to him on the sofa, telling him about your job, your shitty boss, your obnoxious coworkers. If you had your way you’d start your own blog or magazine, or disappear to a coastal town and write a novel, but that wouldn’t pay off your student loans or pay for a place to live. 
You told him about Dany’s new friends. She had her own startup with her family’s money behind her, and it was doing well but she didn’t have time for anything else. She was unreachable during the week, and every weekend she had started hanging out with her employees. Your chats are filled with photos she's sent you of pints and drunk selfies in clubs. And she never invites you.
But Aemond was there, the only person in weeks who had made any sort of effort to see you. You held his face in your hands and told him how beautiful his lips were.
Then he kissed you.
That took you by surprise. He moved you into his lap, trailed his hands along your legs to the hem of your dress, and all the while your lips moved together so perfectly. You wanted it to happen, more than you had allowed yourself to admit, but you hadn’t expected it. You pulled away and so did he. Something didn’t feel right. Something was holding you back.
He’s Dany’s cousin, you told yourself. 
“It’s alright,” you say, moving your bag to the sofa, paper and pens shifting around it. “Shit– I’ve got some work to do.”
“On a Friday night?”
It wouldn’t be so unbelievable, you staying in on a Friday, but Aemond has a way of picking up on the smallest of details. Maybe there’s a give in your voice. Maybe you’re breathing too heavily– now you’re thinking about it and you can’t get enough air into your lungs.
“I’m fine, honestly, don’t worry about me.”
“I do, that’s the problem.”
You can hardly think over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. And gods, you feel so guilty. Why do you feel so guilty? “It’s just that now’s not a good time.”
“Now as in, right now?”
Now as in this moment. Today. This year. Until you feel that you’re ready, only, you don’t know when you’ll be ready.
“Aemond, you know I think you’re wonderful, I mean, I hope you know that. And I… appreciated dinner last weekend. I just…”
There’s a flow of breath through the speaker, a slow exhale that sets your nerves alight. Aemond has a way of tapping his fingers when he’s impatient or when he’s thinking. You picture him drumming his fingers against his thigh.
“I thought I was being rather direct in what I wanted. I hate to think I’ve imposed,” he says. 
It’s hard not to overthink this kind of thing, after a lifetime of drunk flirting, harmless fun, no strings attached, “not looking for a relationship” and men keeping their options open. Aemond is intelligent and generous. He has an eye for detail, a way of reading you, and a self assuredness that means he can breeze through life effortlessly.
He’s perfect, and you’re not. 
“I’m sorry,” you say.
Aemond is silent. No breathing, no sign of life. It’s like that for a few seconds, but it feels like minutes. And finally he says. “I understand perfectly.” 
“I really am sorry,” you say, but the white noise of the call is dead. 
You finally make yourself that cup of tea. Dany calls and you don’t want to answer. But you do. She’s on her way to the pub. 
“It’s Jon’s birthday and we’re going to Falling Star!”
You don’t want to hate her for being around other people, but why can’t she do it without rubbing it in your face? “Enjoy. And don’t die,” you say.
“I’m too pretty to be murdered,” she says. A slew of true crime documentaries and faces in newspapers would say otherwise, but by then she’s already hung up.
The rest of your evening is a peaceful one. You don’t pay much attention to the dating show you put on the TV, more interested in an algorithm of videos, cats making funny noises, a man shoving his wife’s face into their wedding cake, a tribute to the three victims of the Silk Street murders– no new news there, new economic policies, fantasy book recommendations…
You check your messages. Dany’s just sent you a photo of her pint.
You scroll a little further down and hover your thumb over your chat with Aemond, but you don’t open it.
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Nothing in particular wakes you. Still half asleep, you’re aware of your body, the exposed parts of skin against the fabric of your bedsheets, the rise and fall of your chest. Instinct tells you it’s a few hours after midnight. There are no strange noises, no sources of light, just the cold air beyond the duvet, pulled up to your chin.
Then it starts to slip away. 
Your hands struggle to catch up with your mind. You think about grabbing the edge and tugging against whatever is trying to pull it off you, but you can’t. The fabric slips through your limp fingers, dragging over your body until there’s no weight on top of you. Your limbs are frozen in place, curled over on one side, dressed in an old t-shirt, panties and nothing else. Your skin crawls at a silent breeze, but you can feel it again, eyes on you.
Then there are fingers, stroking along your bare legs, closing around your ankles. 
Your eyes blink open, adjusting to the darkness and you can see that the bedroom door is wide open. Without looking, you feel an awareness about the room, a presence looming at the foot of the bed. It pulls on your legs, dragging you further down the bed, positioning you flat on your back.
Even in the dead of night, the gleam of silver hair is undeniable.
“Aemond?”
His gaze meets yours. He smiles and starts to pull at the buttons on his shirt– trust Aemond to show up in a dream wearing a shirt and slacks.
The haze of sleep lulls your mind and sharpens your senses. You run your hands up your thighs, admiring every inch of his skin as it’s revealed to you.
Shirt discarded, his hands come to his belt and linger on the buckle. He hums and it infuriates you how even the slightest of sounds makes you desperate for him. But the belt stays where it is, so do the slacks. 
His palms fall to the mattress and he crawls towards you like an animal. You’ve rarely seen that side of him in real life, maybe that night when you kissed, the way he groaned against your mouth and grazed his teeth over your lips…
His hands are on either side of your head. The colour of his eyes and the line of his scar are difficult to make out in the dark. His body leans against yours, slowly pressing his weight on top of you, making a home for his hips between your legs. You don’t just let him do it, you wrap your legs around him, pulling him in closer as your hips start to rock. 
He leans down, placing a firm, slow kiss against your lips. You try to follow him as he pulls away, but he moves down to kiss your neck, then the base of your throat.
“You can’t lie to me,” he mutters against your skin, “I know what you need.”
He lifts your t-shirt enough to expose your breasts, taking one into his hand and squeezing, just to the precipice of pain. You’re already moaning when he takes the other nipple into his mouth, bruising and licking and sucking. 
With every moment that passes you feel the control slipping, his and yours. Perfect, sweet, refined Aemond, gripping his fingertips into your flesh like claws, restless and grinding himself against you. You thread your hands through his hair, surfaces of bone, chin and forehead, fall against each other. 
Aemond slips further still. He trails his lips along your sternum and your stomach, positioning his face between your legs. There’s no more pretence. He parts your thighs with his palms, pulling your underwear down your legs before he runs a single finger through your folds. You feel how effortless it is, how wet you are for him.
Until his finger is replaced by his tongue in slow, agonising licks. His eyes are on you, but the rest of him is obscured by your own body. You rock against him to chase the feeling, keeping a hand on his head to keep him where you need him. 
It’s like a silent conversation. He takes your queues, responds to your moans and the way your jaw slacks when he finds the right spot.
You watch his shoulder shift and feel the pressure of his finger at your entrance. He doesn’t push it in, not yet.
“Aemond,” you whisper.
He hums against your cunt and you feel it in the rest of your body, an echo through your bones and your blood.
He wants you to beg.
“Aemond, please,”
He slips inside you and you’re weightless. 
The noises you make aren’t conscious. You feel the air flowing through your lungs, the sound in your throat, panting and moaning as he nudges against the flesh inside you. 
It rises and rises until the pleasure tears through you. Aemond holds you in place with a palm splayed on your stomach, unrelenting, working you through the high.
“Aemond,” you whimper, “I can’t take it,”
He pulls away from you, and still gasping for air he comes to his knees on the bed, hovering over you. “You taste too fucking good,” he says.
You’re still writhing in the afterglow when he reaches for something in his back pocket. The shape of it is obscured in the darkness but you can see how he’s holding it, like he’s holding up a pen. It doesn’t even occur to you that it could be anything dangerous. 
“Are you going to let me have another taste?”
You should say yes, that’s how these things go, play along and see where you end up.
He leans over you again, on one hand. You watch the way his hair falls, the way he draws his tongue over his lips. 
It happens too quickly for you to make any kind of protest. Aemond puts the object into your face and there’s a stinging sensation on your lower lip. By the time he has pulled away you feel a liquid pearling at the cut he’s made, wet and warm. 
“What… what the fuck?” you utter.
Aemond surges back into you, a man starved, kissing your bloodied lips. His tongue delves into your mouth and you can taste it, the sweetness of your own arousal, the metallic tang of your own blood.
“Too good,” Aemond growls under his breath, “too fucking good,”
You meet him with hunger of your own and feel his mouth break into a smile.
“See? I knew you wanted this,” he says as his hand curls around your neck, “desperate little thing, aren’t you?”
Your body is screaming for another release. You rake your nails down his back, press your chest up and into him.
“Say it.”
“I want you, Aemond.”
“So why do you keep pushing me away?”
You pause. There’s hardly any space between you, the tips of your noses are the slightest move from touching. You see the stains on Aemond’s lips, the darkness in his expression.
“I’m not ready,” you say.
Aemond huffs to himself, you’re unsure if it's amusement or disbelief. He sits back on his haunches, grabbing you by your wrists to pull you up. He doesn’t let go. His hands are so much bigger than yours, curling around your forearms. “I could give you everything, do you know that?”
You feel yourself frown.
“Why aren’t you ready? What’s stopping you?”
There are so many imperfections in your life. People like Aemond and Dany, they make life look easy because it is easy for them. If they work it’s something to fill the time. 
Your eyes are starting to sting. “I– I have things I need to focus on. I can’t get caught up in this, I can’t distract myself.”
Aemond’s mouth curls into a small smile, his thumbs tracing circles on your skin. “I could take the distractions away. I could make you mine.” He brings one of your wrists to his lips, placing a delicate skin against it, leaving a smear of blood in its wake. "Why deny yourself the pleasure I could give you?"
It’s an enchanting idea, a life outside of a job that makes you miserable, untethered to a friend you can feel is drifting away…
You feel your head nodding.
“Good girl,” Aemond mutters.
You expect him to kiss you again, or lay you down on the bed and fuck you. Instead he reaches for something beside him. The knife.
You flinch away and get as far as the headboard. Aemond still has one hand on your wrist and pulls you back in. 
He takes the blade to his chest and makes a shallow cut down his skin. Your insides turn and tighten at the sight, unable to decide if you’re terrified or fascinated. 
You know what he wants you to do. That’s always the way with dreams, somehow you just know what you need to, even if what’s happening in front of you doesn’t make sense. 
You lean forwards, bracing yourself against his firm torso, tongue out, licking along the cut. His blood pools and burns on your tongue. It’s bitter and sweet, and you relish it.
Aemond moans, cradling your head in his hand.
He pulls on your hair to tilt your chin up. His face is full of admiration and you preen at the praise.
He moves your head down, to the bulge in his slacks. With his other hand he undoes his belt and you pull it away eagerly. He seems pleased at that and makes quick work of freeing his cock.
You delight at the sight of him, watching his hand work himself to hardness, precum glistening at the tip, and take him into your willing mouth. His sighs of pleasure spurn you on, your own arousal rising in your belly. 
Aemond’s grip on your hair tightens as he starts to thrust into your mouth. “Good girl,” he coos, “my perfect girl,”
Until he decides he’s had enough. You hardly comprehend it as he draws you away from his cock, turns you around and positions you on your stomach.
You gasp as he enters you, the sweet sting of stretching around his cock. It’s worth it when he reaches so deep inside of you. You can hear him gritting his teeth as he moans, like he’s torn between desire and restraint. 
And you wish you could watch him while he fucks you, moving in and out of you, his hands digging into the flesh of your ass, the blood dripping down his chest– you can still taste it.
Aemond’s hair tickles against your skin as he leans down, keeping his brutal pace. “Mine,” he misses against your ear, “you’re fucking mine.”
You cry out as your second orgasm washes over you, soft and simmering as he fucks you through it.
You press your fingertips into the mattress, basking in the heat of your skin, the dampness of sweat, the taste of blood on your lips…
When you open your eyes again daylight seeps through a gap in the curtains. You’re still on your front, still in your t-shirt. You move your hand between your legs and find a damp patch on your panties. 
Your legs and your arms are aching. You feel feverish, hot and cold, restless in your own skin. It’s that time of year, you suppose, flu season.
You can’t stop thinking about that dream. It almost makes you laugh, the absurdity of it, Aemond sneaking into your room, and the blood– the blood. 
It would make sense to be disgusted by it, but you’re not. You feel a sort of pressure ghosting against your lips and your tongue. You imagine the sight of him, his toned torso, offering his very lifeforce to you, and tasting yours.
“Mine,” he said. 
You drag yourself out of the bed. Everything hurts. Even setting out a clean t-shirt and sweatpants exhausts you. Worst of all is the hunger starting to appear in your stomach, the kind that twists and churns.
Maybe a shower will put your head right. It’s amazing how many problems can be solved by warm water. You move in slow, sluggish steps to the bathroom. With the water running, you turn to the sink and reach for your toothbrush, catching sight of your reflection.
Something about your face feels different, and you’re not sure it’s a bad thing. You can’t pinpoint it, but you don’t think you’ve ever felt so beautiful.
There is one thing though, a scab on your lower lip, right where Aemond had cut you in the dream.
“I could take the distractions away. I could make you mine.”
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min-imum · 3 months ago
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makeup sex w/ hhu😳👉🏻👈🏻
tempted to ask if you meant all of them at once tbh 🫣🫣 here’s coups first, the rest coming (🌚) soon!
nsfw, mdni
content warnings: afab!reader, fingering, car sex, there might be more lmk if i forgot anything
“i told you,” seungcheol seethes. “i fucking told you that skirt was too damn short.”
last week, you’d purchased this miniskirt. it was cute and your boyfriend seemed to love it when you modelled it for him at home after your little shopping spree.
but earlier today, when he found you putting it on for the gathering with his friends, he’d warned you that the skirt was far too short.
“no,” you insisted. “it’s fine! i’ll just have to watch how i sit.”
three hours later, mingyu and wonwoo were holding back a very angry seungcheol from beating the daylights out of the man who’d groped you — “what, it’s out there, might as well be public property,” he’d smirked — and now the two of you are in his car speeding home.
“i’m sorry,” you whimper. “i didn’t mean to. i thought it’d be okay.”
he grunts. “that’s why i warned you. i’m all for you wearing what you want to wear, but this was too much.”
after a few moments of silence, seungcheol speaks up again.
“are you okay?”
you shudder at the memory of that man’s hand on your ass, squeezing shamelessly. “no,” you admit. “i… i hate that he touched me, cheol. you’re the only man who has ever touched me there, but now—”
growling, seungcheol makes a detour into a nearby abandoned parking lot. he leans over the console and pulls you in for a kiss with a hand on your neck.
the kiss is messy and wet, but neither of you pay it any mind. he licks into your mouth and you moan, hand flying up to hold his bicep.
“cheol—”
“you’re mine,” he growls. “i’ll make sure everyone knows it.”
he unbuckles your seatbelt for you, then helps you into the backseat. he peels off his shirt — a simple white button up — and climbs into the back after you.
seungcheol’s body is sculpted by the gods. you whimper as you run your hand over his abs, fingertips catching on each ridge. he smirks as he slides a finger under your miniskirt and feels the wet spot on your panties, and then he slides them off your legs and shoves them into his pocket. he reaches between your legs again and, before you’re able to brace yourself, rubs harshly at your clit.
your eyes roll back, your back arches, and you mewl loudly, hands scrambling to grab onto the edge of the seat. “c-cheollie!” you moan loudly as he slides two fingers into you, your slick easing the way, while his thumb continues mapping tight circles on your clit.
he leans down towards your ear.
“never wear this skirt out again,” he says, eyebrows set in a straight line. “this is for me and me only. you hear me?”
“yes, yes, shit, cheol, i promise—” you gasp. “i’m cumming, don’t stop—”
you scream, hips shaking, as you cum all over his fingers. he continues to thrust them into you for a few moments before pulling them out and licking up your juices.
“one minute break,” he says sternly.
“then i’m going to fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”
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kumkaniudaku · 2 months ago
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Stay A While
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Summary: Terry's back home and trying to make amends with an old friend.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Word Count: 3,944
Part: 1 of ??
Warnings and Notes: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.
Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. Or at least Terry hoped that was the case as his thumb hovered over a familiar name in his contact list. A dingey hole in the wall became a haven on the tail end of his journey back to some sense of normalcy. He was down a bike, a truck, and a piece of his heart but continued to press on until fatigue forced him to stop for rest. The owner, a small woman with a big voice noticed his rough appearance as he passed by on foot and invited him inside to duck an incoming storm. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when he repeated that he had ground to make up before nightfall.
When she asked if he needed help he politely and foolishly declined all but a glass of brown liquor and access to an outlet. That same whiskey and a sprinkle of Motown-era love songs playing on a rickety jukebox had broken a grown man down enough to reach out to the one person who might still be willing to take him in. Even if only for a night.
Searching for extra courage, Terry took another sip of lukewarm Jack Daniels before tapping his phone screen. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before a short pause signaled the call had connected. 
The silence on the other him was loud, forcing him to speak up first. 
“Hello?”
Fading voices and shuffling in the background were the only indicators of a presence on the other line, making Terry feel embarrassed for starting a call in the first place. 
He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Hey, look… if now’s not a good time I ca -” 
“Terrence? Did you mean to call me?” 
“I, uh…yeah. I did. I’m sorry. I should’ve -” 
“Are you okay? It’s loud wherever you are. You good? You hurt?” 
“I could tell you if you would give me a chance to answer,” he chuckled. His amusement made her kiss her teeth in annoyance. “I’m okay. I’m a little banged up, but I’ve seen worse. I’m somewhere between Charlotte and home. Stopped in this spot for a drink and somewhere to sleep for the night.” 
“And what does that have to do with me?” 
Terry took another swig of whiskey and sighed. “Nothing, really. I was hoping I could see you, though. You know, when I make it back tomorrow.”
“You staying anywhere when you get here?” 
“Not yet, but I’ll find somewhere. I know how to survive.”
“TJ…,” More silence. Thick. Long. Full of tension and years of baggage that they had yet to discuss. The other voice sighed before answering. “Come on by. I’ll have the back room ready for you. You need toiletries?” 
Terry’s face softened into a near smile at the invitation. “Yes ma’am. A meal would be nice, too.” 
“Okay. I’ll have you something if you can get here before dark tomorrow. Please be safe, Terrence. I mean it.” 
Before he could attempt to extend the conversation, the call ended, leaving her contact photo in full view. Terry allowed a slow grin to spread across his face just as a short text with her address came across the screen. 
“Another round, brother?” 
Terry looked up from his phone to find an expectant expression on the bartender’s face. He shook his head and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. “Nah, but thanks, man. Think I’m gonna close my tab, actually. I gotta see about a bus ticket before it’s too late.” 
“If you heading to her,” the man started, pointing toward Terry’s phone. “you need a cut, man. A lineup. Something. You look like what you been through. If you got $20, I can get you right.” A slight frown and knitted eyebrows in response made the bartender shoot his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want no problems, big dog. I just know what it’s like to see your lady after a hard time. Let me help you.” 
A quick look into the black mirror of his cell phone screen forced Terry to reckon with his appearance. He couldn’t remember his last haircut and his mustache was starting to dwarf his upper lip. He sighed and reached into his back pocket. 
“Extra $10 and you can get the face too?” 
“Extra $20 and I’ll get you where you going myself.” 
------
City noise had long been replaced by suburban quiet by the time Terry’s destination came into view. His friend back at the bar was true to his word and arranged transport that turned a 6-hour journey into 2 hours of UGK on the speakers, a little privacy, and AC on the hottest summer day so far.  
After exchanging pleasantries and cash, Terry stepped out of the cramped Honda onto the smooth driveway pavement. Every house, street sign, and front yard looked exactly as he remembered them, bringing mixed emotions forward.
The short journey to her front step felt arduous for his tired legs, but he persisted until he was mere inches from the front door. He lifted his arms and prepared to knock but stopped short when it swung open unexpectedly. 
“Knocking when I can hear those heavy feet from a mile away is courteous but unnecessary.” 
He chuckled and rubbed a hand down the back of his head. “Good to see you too, Treece.” 
Patrice greeted him with a half smile as she studied his appearance from toe to head. A few years and a little extra weight had done wonders. She settled on his eyes and softened her gaze. “You look good, TJ. Come in here and cool off.”
Stepping inside her home felt like walking into a time capsule. He’d spent so many after-school days and summer nights here that it felt like his childhood home not too far up the road. Photos from yesteryear lined the walls on the way to the living room where nothing had changed except new furniture and a bigger television on the TV stand. The heat from the oven mixing with a slight chill from the air conditioning unit kept the room comfortable enough to nap if he could settle for more than a few minutes. 
Terry’s eyes drifted from his surroundings to Patrice as she led the way. Long braids covered the back of a high school t-shirt and jean shorts. Her brown skin had become golden under the North Carolina sun, making her glow a little in the morning light. Grown woman weight had settled onto her once thin frame, transforming her into a more of a mini version of her mother than before. All the changes he’d imagined when he had a free second were ions better in person.
Patrice gestured toward the leather recliner in the corner without speaking, inviting him to take a seat and settle in on her way to the stove.
They existed without words for a few minutes while she took fresh biscuits out of the oven and arranged them next to sausage patties and an omelet on one of her good porcelain plates. Terry trained his attention on his shoes, trying and failing to find a way to break the ice. He wanted to apologize. Confess his wrongs and desires in one grand speech designed to erase nearly ten years of absence. But the words wouldn’t form in his throat and the moment came and went. 
Balancing a dinner tray in one hand and orange juice in the other, Patrice carefully made her way to his spot in the living room. Seeing her kind eyes calmed his nerves and set his chest ablaze.
“No more pork for you, right? This is chicken sausage from my Nana and them in the country.” She asked as she sat the tray on his lap. 
He nodded in appreciation. “Yeah. You remembered?” 
“You ain’t been gone that long, TJ. I still know who you are and what you like. That orange juice don’t have pulp in it either.” 
“Thank you,” he said sheepishly before hanging his head to pray. 
“Any time.” 
A re-run of A Different World became the only sound in the room outside of an occasional content sigh from Terry as he tore through his breakfast. Patrice watched in amusement until her broad smile caught his attention. He slowed in embarrassment and returned the stare long enough to induce loud laughter from both of them. 
“I look crazy, huh?” 
“No,” she assured with a sweet smile. “You just look like you're happy to be back home, is all. Fayetteville missed you.” 
“All of Fayetteville or someone specific?” 
“Don’t start, TJ.” 
“I’m only asking a question.” He answered without making eye contact. “You know you’re the only one who still calls me that?” 
“What? TJ? That’s your name.” 
“Yeah, but…you know. It’s not 2010 anymore.” 
Patrice shrugged and settled deeper into the couch. “Considering that’s about the last time I saw you in the flesh, I guess it stuck for me. But, I can call you Terrence if you like.” 
“Nah, TJ’s good. I like it. From you…specifically.” 
The pair exchanged equally bashful looks, both too shy to say anything that would incriminate themselves. Instead, they watched the television in silence and stole looks until a commercial break took away their distraction. 
Without speaking, Terry began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Patrice to rush over before he could move too far. 
“Treece, I can do it.” 
“I know,” she answered in a sing-song voice while sliding the tray from his grasp. “But I haven’t done this for you in a while. Let me love on you a little bit.”
His eyes tracked her every move until she was behind him at the kitchen sink. Boyish nervousness made him twiddle his thumbs until words came rushing out like water from a burst pipe as he sat back down.
“So, how you doing? How you been?” 
“I’ve been okay. Mostly work and no play, you know. Thankful to be out of that classroom for a few weeks and get some peace.” 
“Yeah? Kids driving you crazy?” 
“Baby, the kids, their parents, and my parents are driving me to drink,” she laughed. “I can’t catch a break.” 
“What about your man? He driving you crazy?” 
Patrice scoffed and shook her head. Her mama and his mama talked too much. Terry chewed his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t offend. 
“We…aren’t together anymore. Hard to build a family together when he’s off building one across town.” 
Terry craned his neck around the armchair to make sympathetic eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that part. I wouldn’t have said anything.” 
“It’s alright. I gave it to God a long time ago. Maybe I’m not meant to be anybody’s wife yet.”
“Maybe you weren’t meant to be his wife.” 
“Well, it’s not like any suitors are knocking down my door for my hand in marriage.” 
“Probably because you keep swinging it open before anybody gets a chance.” 
Patrice rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger in Terry’s direction. “Ha-ha. I see you didn’t lose your jokes at Lejeune. Only your ability to keep in touch.” 
Her retort left a shallow cut in Terry’s ego, making him turn his attention back to the television. He knew he’d broken a decades-old promise and that atoning for his sins would take time. But he also knew that, at any moment, Patrice could send him back into the world with nothing more than a full belly and a swift kick in the ass. He had to tread lightly. 
Taking the lull in conversation as his opportunity to lick his wounds in private, Terry stood and gathered his belongings in both hands. Patrice watched him from her spot with an apologetic expression. 
“You don’t have to leave. Got a couple errands to run so it’ll be quiet in here. Take the whole couch if you want.” 
“That’s alright, but thank you. Figure I can make myself useful and cut the yard. Maybe unpack some of this stuff if that’s alright with you. You got a mower?” 
“Yeah, it’s back there,” she answered, gesturing toward the backyard with her head. “Will you be here when I get back?” 
Sensing the hidden motivation behind her question, Terry dropped his bag to the ground and made his way into the kitchen. Cautiously, he leaned down to press a short kiss to Patrice’s forehead before using his index finger to tilt her head upward and meet his eyeline. “Yes. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.” 
Her eyes fluttered closed for a half second while she nodded her understanding. A wave of relief made the hair on her arms stand at attention but she quickly bit back any urge to engage further. 
“You looked tired when you got in,” Patrice started, turning her back to Terry to conceal her flustered face. “I cleared Junior’s old bed back there. It’s a little small but sturdy. The sheets are fresh. Let me know if you need more blankets. I like it cold at night.” 
“I’ll survive, girl. I’ve slept in worse places than a full-sized bed. Thank you.” 
A split second of hesitation kept their eyes glued to one another until Terry ended the stalemate by backing out of the room and disappearing down the hallway. 
Patrice took his absence as an opportunity to compose herself. Busy hands and racing thoughts fueled a cleaning marathon until tasks that had long fallen to the bottom of her to-do list were crossed off. 
For hours they co-existed without many words exchanged. Occasionally, Patrice would steal glances at Terry while he meticulously tended to the lawn and bushes. When he could, Terry made a point to brush up against her when he walked past and agree with each of her many suggestions. Being in her space was enough for him and he dared not upset the natural harmony. 
By the time dinner rolled around, they had found a groove. A quiet dinner led to an even quieter cleanup shift and quick good nights exchanged after watching Jeopardy together. 
Terry left Patrice to her own devices while he fought to acclimate to such cushy surroundings. Try as he might, he couldn’t get used to the soft mattress below him or the near-frigid temperature in the house. Tossing and turning left him unsatisfied. The walls felt like they were converging. Flashbacks were turning into night sweats. He needed to escape.
Slowly, he slid out of bed and into a pair of slippers Patrice had gifted him earlier in the day. Measured steps help him sneak past her bed bedroom, out of the back door, and down into the backyard without causing a disturbance. 
The early June air was balmy, clinging to the skin beneath his t-shirt. In the distance loud bass from someone’s car speaker vibrated until it was out of earshot. Dogs barked and howled to salute the moon worked in tandem with the faint smell of charcoal cooling from a night of backyard barbecues to remind him that he was far from the trouble of Shelby Springs. 
It’d been a while since he could enjoy the night without being on high alert. The last week was a special kind of hell that he feared he could never shake. The urge to flee was beginning to creep in like the tide, threatening to wash away what little progress he’d made.
After a few deep breaths and mumbled prayer, Terry retreated to a porch swing to rest his weary legs. His shoulders relaxed as soon as his backside met the aged oak and, almost instantly, he felt safe enough to close his eyes. One deep breath turned into another until he was drifting into his first peaceful sleep in weeks. 
Minutes passed like seconds. Thoughts slowed to a halt. His heartbeat regulated. Near bliss was upon him.
Inside, a single lamp flipped on to illuminate Patrice’s path as she searched the house for her guest. His room and bathroom had turned up empty results with almost no sign that he’d been there throughout the day. He wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen raiding the fridge like she half expected. Worry had all but made her pass out until she heard the slight creak of her swing on the porch, making his head appear and disappear from the window above the sink.
She couldn’t fully open the door before Terry opened one eye and looked in her direction. She froze and he smiled.
“Feet not as heavy as you thought, huh?” 
“Yeah, yeah. If I’d known you trade in a bed for this old thing I wouldn’t have wasted my time on laundry.” 
“Hey, I built this old thing, remember?”
Patrice chuckled at the memory and pointed at the metal chain keeping the swing in place. “Damn near lost a finger behind it, too.”
“Would’ve been worth it knowing you were happy.” Patrice nervously shifted her weight from left to right under Terry’s intense gaze while he took his turn to look her over. Finally noticing her awkwardly standing between the screendoor, he motioned to the spot beside him. “Sit with me for a second.”
Patrice visibly wrestled with her decision but ultimately joined him. They maintained a careful distance, being sure to keep their individual limbs from connecting for fear that the mere sensation would set them ablaze. They played a childish game of cat and mouse until Patrice spoke.
“I was rude earlier,” Patrice confessed while fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Terry closed his heavy eyes to cure the burning sensation growing by the minute but acknowledged her statement with a confused grunt. She continued. “I never asked how you were doing. The whole thing about my ex sort of brought up old feelings.” 
He frowned, hurt by her revelation. “You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you, right?” 
“You never are. Same ol’ honorable TJ. Terry, I mean.” 
“TJ for you.” 
Again he popped one eye open and paired it with a grin that disamered Patrice and made her giggle like her high school self. The sound had him resolve that he’d spend his whole life making stupid faces if it meant she’d get some joy from them. 
“You ready to tell me everything I missed or are you content with popping up on my porch? And how long do you plan to be here eating all my food, anyway?” 
“I don’t think you wanna hear that,” he answered in an attempt to dodge the loaded question. Patrice persisted. 
“No, I do. I see the tattoos and the fresh haircut. TJ turned into a man while he was gone. At least let me get to know this new person.” 
“I grew up,” he sighed after some time. “Gained some. Lost a lot. Still trying to pick up the pieces.”
“What’d you lose?” 
“Lately? Money. Family. Shit, my mind.” 
“Why?”
“Mike died.” An abrupt interruption of an already complicated conversation brought forth a long pause. He waited for an interjection but found none, prompting him to offer more details. “He was killed. In jail. I tried to get him out and bring him home but I was too late.” Terry answered without making eye contact. Shame wouldn’t allow him to meet her potential judgment.
Patrice mentally cycled through names and faces until she realized the gravity of Terry’s statement. She reached out to breach their unspoken barrier and grabbed his hand which he accepted with no pushback.
“You wanna talk about it?” 
“Not really,” he answered before squeezing her hand and finally returning her eye contact. “I handled everything. It’s over for now. I’m here with you. We can focus on that.” 
“Even though you keep skipping how long you’ll stay.”
Patrice’s warmth was starting to take a backseat to her cold nature. Old wounds had started to re-open and rebuild a wall they both thought they’d successfully hurdled. Despite her attempt to pull her hand out of his grasp, Terry stayed put. He eyed her for a moment, picking up on a thin veil of tears threatening to form at her water line. 
She watched his normally steely blue-gray eyes soften into something that mirrored the softness he carried when they were kids. She couldn’t find the gumption to look away as he brought her knuckles up to his lips for a set of short kisses before looking back up at her. Pleading. Begging for any indication that she had softened her heart toward him. 
“Treecey, I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. You meant more to me than the way I left and I pray every day for a chance to make it right. We crossed a line that night and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t handle that like a man should have. I’m sorry until I’m blue in the face.” 
Sincerity was thick in his voice despite his low, even tone. 
Patrice listened without a word. A single tear cascaded down her face despite her valiant attempts to keep her emotions at bay. She swore she’d never cry about Terrence Richmond again. But old habits die hard. 
Terry used his free hand to swipe away that tear and the next one sitting at her lower lash line with the pad of his thumb.
“Say something,” he pleaded. “Anything. Tell me you hate me.” 
“You know I don’t hate you,” she whispered, too choked up to continue without a deep breath. “I…I just feel like you took a piece of me with you, you know? And you never wrote back. You never called. You shut me out like we were never friends. We could’ve gone back to how things were.” 
“I fucked that up.” 
“I’m aware. But that doesn’t mean that I trust you won’t do it again. No matter how much I don’t hate you, I’m not eighteen anymore. My patience is thin. I can’t allow you to turn my world upside down again.” 
“Hand to God I wouldn’t dream of it.” 
“Yeah. I hope so.” Though she whispered, Patrice’s words sliced through Terry like a hot knife through butter. 
He hung his head in defeat as she pulled her hand from his grasp and made quick work of standing from the bench. Her footsteps retreated past him and to the back door until she paused. 
He looked over his shoulder to find her eyes closed and chin pointed to the sky in contemplative silence. This was it. The final blow. 
She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “Stay as long as you want. Junior’s living with his girlfriend now, so nobody’s coming to make you leave. Tomorrow, we can go get you some new clothes. I’m tired of looking at those raggedy t-shirts already.” 
Terry took her jab in stride and gave her a half smile as a sign of compliance. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.” 
“Mhm. Lock the door behind you when you come in.” 
“Good night, Treecey.” His farewell came in an annoyingly sweet voice as a last-ditch effort to drag some loving words from her. Patrice stopped and gave him one more once over and a dismissive eye roll.
He waited for the ghost of a smile that disappeared before he could blink. She shook her head and took a step inside the house.
“Shut up, Terry. Go to bed.” 
Terry hid his amusement until she was out of sight, leaving him alone to grin at how even her rebukes felt like love letters. 
“Shut up,” he repeated to himself as he closed his eyes to doze again. “Hm. I’ll take it.” 
TAGS: @planetblaque
Happy to tag whoever is interested.
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davinawritings · 2 months ago
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Should Have Stayed Home Part 2
Hello this is part 2. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think ❤️
Part 1
Pairing: Yandere Fae Prince x Fae female reader
Warnings: Yandere Behavior, mild violence, blood, kidnapping
As you wake, the first thing you notice is how unbelievably comfortable you are. You have never felt so relaxed in your bed. The mattress is typically hard as a rock, whereas it feels like a cloud right now. The thought causes your eyes to snap open in alarm, knowing your old mattress in the servant’s quarters could never feel this good.
Looking around, you can’t help but be in awe of the room you are in. Aside from its massive size, everything is lavish and beautiful. Large doors open to a balcony with a beautiful view of what seems to be the entire kingdom. Gold-trimmed furnishings, a jewel-encrusted mirror, and what have to be the most expensive fabrics decorate the room with an air of elegance and wealth.
You are broken from your appraisal of the room when a door opens, and the crown prince walks in. You immediately remember the previous night and glare at him.
“Did you get some good rest in our bed, my princess?” he asks in his sultry voice.
“ I am not your princess,” you snarl back. You quickly throw the blanket off of yourself and get out of bed. You barely make it two steps when your leg is halted by a chain wrapped around your ankle. The inside lines with satin to not irritate and chafe your skin.
Looking down in shock, you hear him laugh before saying, “I am not stupid, my love. I can’t exactly leave me little runaway alone and free to leave as you please”.
Deciding that trying to be friendly and appease his ego might work better your day, “My Prince, I never-. “
“My name is Kieran, and that is what you will call me. I am to be your husband. I will not have such formalities”, he demands.
You take a deep breath to calm yourself and continue, “I am not going to be your wife. While I appreciate your offer, my Prince, I have no interest in being royalty. I ask you to let me leave and return to my life”.
The Prince crosses the room in a few quick strides, taking your face in his large hands. “I told you to call me by my name. I want to hear you say it. I need to hear my name fall from your perfect lips”. When you stay quiet, he lets out a frustrated sigh.
One of his hands moves to your lower back, keeping your body pressed firmly against his own. The other grabs your face, his thumb digging into one cheek while his other fingers dig into the other. His grip is tight enough that it forces your lips into a pout.
“Say it,” he says, his voice low and lethal.
“Kieran,” you spit out, refusing to give anything more.
The Prince grins, his smile almost feline in nature. You open your mouth to plead your case again, but he seizes the opportunity to capture your lips. Your shock allows him to explore your mouth further. His tongue moves to caress your own, a firm but sensual movement that has you melting slightly under his touch.
His lips are warm and soft against your own. You almost feel yourself getting lost in him when you snap back to the reality of your situation. You try to move away, but he doesn’t let you, his grip on your face unyielding.
You bite at his tongue just hard enough to draw some blood, and he pulls back. You look up at him, expecting his anger, but instead, you see his eyes full of lust. He pulls you back in and bites down on your lip, licking up the blood that spills and mixing it with his own. He lets out a satisfied groan before you manage to finally pull away.
“You are insane,” you shout at him. He merely laughs and gives you a wicked grin. “Unfortunately, my love, I have some duties I must attend to. I have left you some books on the nightstand. They are all about the history of our kingdom. I can’t have my wife not knowing our land’s past, so I suggest you start reading. I shall return later so we may share a romantic dinner. I’ll have the maids prepare you this evening. Enjoy your day, princess,” he says, each word making your blood boil in rage.
As he heads for the door, you hastily pick up one of the books on the nightstand, throwing it at his head in your anger. The front of the book hits the back of his head, and the book falls to the floor with a loud thud. He turns to look at you and you just cross your arms, attempting to hide your slight nerves behind and air of defiance.
His expression turns from one of shock to an odd sort of adoration, and he looks from you to the book. He mumbles a quiet “perfect” as he glances back at you with a smile on his face before leaving the room. You are left alone in this massive and lavish room, wondering how insane he must be.
Sitting down on the bed, you decide to formulate a plan. Eventually, he will have to unchain you, and you must be ready to flee when he does. It may not be today, but you will escape or die trying.
🖤💕❤️❤️💕🖤
Let me know what you guys think. Do we like the direction we are going in? How crazy do we want our prince to be?
🖤💕❤️❤️💕🖤
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ssprayberrythings · 10 months ago
Text
it'll be ok | LN4
lando norris x female!reader
warnings: unexpected pregnancy, talk of throwing up/being nauseous, suggestive actions implied if you get what i’m saying, early on pregnancy symptoms, mention of alcohol and being drunk (not the reader!!), lando being a simp for his girlfriend in every aspect of his life.
note: i know how pregnancy works and i’m not saying that reader got pregnant on this trip, her and lando are just h**ny 😭 (increased sex drive is a symptom of pregnancy though so..…) 
double note: i’m not sure how lily (oscar’s lily) is as a person but she seems like a sweetheart so i went off those vibes and i referred to alexandra by her full name cause if i said alex, someone might think alex albon lol 
okay thats it. enjoy 😉
word count: a little over 5k
masterlist | taglist
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You and Lando had been dating now for close to 2 years. You were happy with the life you were making with him and he was happy to have you by his side through his success. 
Everything was going great, at least it was up until 5 minutes ago. Now here you were sitting in the bathroom to the villa you had rented out for a vacation with friends, holding a pregnancy test not sure what to do with the fact that there were two lines looking back at you. 
48 Hours Before Finding Out
“Omg this is so much more prettier than the pictures” you said as you, Lando and some of your closest friends which included some of the other drivers and their girlfriends, walked into the villa 
“This is gonna be great” Lando exclaimed excitedly while wrapping an arm around your waist “Alright everyone get their rooms sorted and when you’re done, meet down by the beach” he told everyone, earning a round of “okays” and “sounds goods”. 
You and Lando made your way to the master suite on the second floor, seeing as you had been the ones to suggest the vacation and rent the villa, it was only fair you got the biggest room. 
“Lan I don’t know which bathing suit to wear” you asked as you stared at the bathing suits you had brought. 
“Doesn’t matter to me, either way it’ll end up on the floor later” he whispered in your ear as he came up behind you 
You blushed at his flirty remark “You’re naughty” you joked with him 
“Only for you” he reiterated as he put his hands on your hips and started kissing your neck 
“Lan if we start doing that, we’re never gonna leave” you tried being serious even though the shudder in your voice gave you away, telling Lando he was succeeding in distracting you. 
This happened quite frequently. Lando knew you so well and he made you feel things, none of your previous boyfriends had ever made you feel. 
He continued kissing your neck, knowing exactly where to put his lips. You felt yourself giving in with the way he was kissing you and how his hands were slowly moving down from your hips, you knew you wouldn’t be making it to the beach anytime soon. 
-
You and Lando eventually left your room, joining your friends on the beach. 
“Where the hell were you two” Max asked as he sat on a beach chair with everyone else doing their own thing 
“Y/N needed help picking a bathing suit” Lando responded smirking, knowing Max wouldn’t believe him but also knew he wouldn’t push for the truth, he was smart enough to put two and two together. 
“Babe I’m gonna go in the water, care to join?” Lando asked turning to you as your hands were interlocked 
“No I’m okay for now, I’m gonna try and tan a bit then I’ll come join you” you told him, he smiled at your answer and then gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and started making his way towards the water to join the friends of yours that were currently playing water volleyball. 
You spent the rest of your day in between tanning with the girls and playing in the water with Lando. Once everyone was done with the sun, you all made your way back to the house where you went to your perspective rooms to rest a little before you went out for dinner. 
You felt extra tired which on any other day you might be more concerned about but you had been travelling between time zones and then spent a significant amount of time in the sun, so in your head it made sense to be this tired. 
Once you had changed from your bathing suit into some clean undies and a oversized T-shirt, you crashed on yours and Lando’s bed where he was already sitting scrolling on his phone 
“Lan im gonna take a quick nap, wake me up in like an hour so I can start getting ready” you told him as you curled into a ball nuzzling your face into the pillows 
“Sure thing sweets” he said leaning down to kiss your head before going back to his phone, keeping one hand free to play with your hair knowing that always helped put you to sleep. 
-
Lando stayed true to his word and gently woke you up about an hour into your nap, not wanting to, seeing as you looked so peaceful but knowing you’d be upset if he let you sleep longer than you wanted.
“Babe” he said gently stroking his hand over your cheek 
“Hmm” you mumbled still half asleep 
“You wanted me to wake you so you could start to get ready” he told you smiling at how cute you looked 
“Why are you a good boyfriend and actually listen to what I say” you grumbled 
He chuckled “C’mon we can take a shower together, that’ll wake you up” he suggested knowing you’d get what he was implying 
You opened one eye looking at him to see if he was joking but knew he wasn’t when you saw the look in his eyes, this got you to open both eyes and slowly stretch, waking up fully in the process 
“Alright pretty boy let’s go” you said as you got off the bed causing a laugh to leave Lando as he got off the bed, following you into the bathroom. 
-
Once everyone including you and Lando were ready, you decided to visit a cute Italian restaurant nearby. Everyone in the group all loved Italian so it worked out perfectly. 
While you were walking to the restaurant, you felt a slight squeeze in your stomach but chalked it up to that all you had to eat today was some fruit and a small salad. 
Lately your appetite hadn’t been what it normally was, you pushed this thought aside though wanting to enjoy your vacation and deciding you’d worry about it once you got back home. 
After some walking you reached the restaurant, Charles taking point and speaking to the hostess in Italian to get a table. They brought you to the part of the restaurant that was more private and made sure there were enough seats for everyone. 
The host got you all menus and water, letting you know your server would be there momentarily. 
You politely smiled at her and offered her thanks in Italian, you may have loved everything Italian but your knowledge of the language didn’t go past basic phrases and words. 
You sat next to Lando and Lily, Oscars girlfriend. The two of you had gotten close with your boyfriends being teammates. You felt that squeeze in your stomach again, this time more intense so you casually reached for your water and hoped it would help. 
Once you had drank enough water to feel better, you went back to look at your menu 
“Baby are you okay? You just practically chugged your water” Lando asked quietly turning to you 
You nodded “Yeah, I'm good, I just didn’t realize how thirsty I was” you lied offering him a smile, he seemed to believe you and went back to the menu, Lily however offered you a strange look, having overheard your words and not fully believing you but deciding not to push. 
You could still feel that slight squeeze in your stomach and was apprehensive to order a large meal so you went for a simple soup, figuring it was the safest option. 
When everyone’s food arrived, you caught a whiff of the food around you and suddenly that squeeze in your stomach was becoming too much to handle. You didn’t want to bring attention to yourself but if you didn’t go to the washroom now, you weren’t sure what would happen so you turned to Lily.
“Lils I need your help” you whispered to the girl who had just taken a bite of her food 
“Is everything okay? You look pale” she asked concerned 
“I’m gonna throw up and desperately need to get away from the table” you explained trying to stuff the nausea down until you were somewhere else 
“Say no more” the girl said then turned to Oscar letting him know she was using the washroom, he smiled and moved out of the booth, luckily he was on the end 
“Y/N will you come with?” She asked, acting like the washroom was her idea and just wanted a friend to accompany her 
Your name sparked Lando’s interest and turned to face you 
“Babe I’ll be back im just gonna go to the washroom with Lily” you told him quickly before getting out of the booth, offering Oscar a small smile to say sorry for interrupting his meal 
Then you and Lily made your way to the washroom, as much as you would’ve preferred to run there, you didn’t want to seem weird so you casually bit your lip and hoped you could get there in time. 
“Girls are so strange in always wanting someone with them to go to the washroom” Lando said to Oscar eating his food 
Oscar just shrugged “I’m used to it at this point” he replied to his friend and teammate before both drivers went back to their previous conversation with the others around them. 
Meanwhile in the washroom, you were in a stall on your knees with your head over the toilet. Luckily Lily was there to hold back your hair and rub your back. 
“Are you okay? Did you eat something you shouldn’t have?” She asked after you were done and had stood up, using some tissues to wipe your mouth 
“I didn’t have anything weird to eat, just some fruit and a small salad” you told her as you fixed your hair and did your best to get the taste of vomit out of your mouth. Remembering you had gum in your purse and silently saying a prayer to your past self for putting it there. 
“That’s strange” she said even though you could sense there was more the girl wanted to say but held back 
“I don’t know how I'm gonna get through dinner. The smell of everything is what triggered this” you told her turning to her 
“Maybe just tell Lando you aren’t feeling the greatest and are gonna walk back to the Villa” she suggested 
“He wont let me go alone, he’ll want to join me and I don’t want to take him away from everyone” you explained 
“I’ll go back with you. I’ll just tell Oscar to bring my food home in a to go box” she offered 
“Are you sure Lils?” You asked the girl, feeling bad
“That’s what friends are for” she smiled
“Okay, let’s go then” you told her 
-
When you made your way back to the table, Lando looked at you, you could see there was some concern behind his eyes probably because of how long you had been in the washroom 
You slid in the booth to tell him you and Lily were gonna head back 
“I’m just not feeling super great and don’t want to take you away from everyone so Lily’s gonna walk back with me” you explained to him 
“Are you okay? What are you feeling? I’ll walk back with you, I don’t mind” he told you the concern only worsening 
“Babe I'm fine, really, I'm sure a good nights rest is all I need and then tomorrow I’ll be good” you reassured him, offering him a small smile 
“Okay but text me if you need anything or want me to come back” he told you which you nodded and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before getting out of the booth and walking to the exit with Lily. 
“Where’s Lily and Y/N going?” Charles asked 
“Y/N’s not feeling the great so they’re going back to the villa” Lando answered him 
Charles nodded then went back to talking to his girlfriend, Alexandra.
Lando shared a look with Oscar as both of their girlfriends had left them 
“Did Lily say anything?” Lando asked Oscar as they moved closer now that there was some space between them 
“No, just that she was going back with Y/N” he told him. He could see Lando was worried “I’m sure she’ll be fine and Lily will text if anything happens” Oscar did his best to reassure the Brit. Lando just nodded and silently went back to his food. 
-
24 Hours Before Finding Out
The next day, you had woken up and luckily you didn’t feel any feelings of nausea, hopefully that was an indicator that today was going to be different from yesterday and you could enjoy your trip. 
You got out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, you had a strange craving for orange juice which wasn’t normally your go to breakfast drink but you weren’t mad about it, seeing as the orange juice in the fridge was freshly squeezed. 
You smiled when you poured yourself a tall glass and went to sit on the patio furniture outside enjoying the beautiful view.
You pulled your phone out, scrolling through TikTok. You tried to avoid TikTok because most of the time you’d see videos of your boyfriend or any sort of f1 content but today you gave it a chance. 
So far it was going great until you saw a video of this creator explaining their battle with cancer and how they were finally in remission. You felt the tears gathering in your eyes but figured it was just your hormones and you being a sensitive person. 
Then you moved from TikTok to Instagram and saw a post about puppy adoptions and suddenly you couldn’t hold the tears back and that’s how Lando found you, crying over your phone 
“Babe what’s wrong?” He asked instantly pulling the chair next to you, rubbing your back 
“These puppies, they’re all up for adoption” you told him, showing him the rescue centre’s instagram highlighting all the dogs they had up for adoption. 
Lando found you the cutest for crying over dogs “Why are you crying though?” he asked still rubbing your back 
You shrugged, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve “I don’t know, they just all look so cute and I want them to find their forever homes” you tried to explain why you were crying, even if you didn’t fully understand why. 
“You’re adorable” he smiled at you “How about when we get back, we can try and organize an adoption event with the centre, I’m sure the attention from an f1 driver should help” he suggested.
He would do anything to see you smile even if that meant having to talk with his PR manager about organizing a puppy adoption event sponsored by McLaren. 
The idea brought a smile to your face and you sniffled “Thats really sweet of you Lan” you told him 
“We’ll get all those dogs adopted” you leaned over giving your boyfriend a hug. The tears had subsided which Lando was grateful for, he hated seeing you cry. 
He hugged you back, kissing the top of your head “Anything for you sweets” he reassured you. 
-
After your moment, you and Lando joined the rest of your friends inside. You all enjoyed a nice breakfast together, then once the dishes were dealt with, you all went your own ways, everyone wanting to do something different. 
You and Lando planned to go take some pictures around the area. That was one of the things that drew you two to each other, both having a passion for photography. 
On your first date, you spent so much time sharing pictures and the stories that went with them so when you started dating, it became something you did together, whenever you could. 
You were walking up to your room when Kika called your name. You turned looking in the direction of where your name had come, seeing Kika sticking her head out of her and Pierre’s room.
“Whats up? Is everything okay?” you asked as you approached their room. 
“Yeah, I just was wondering if you had a tampon or a pad, I got my period and just realized I didn’t bring anything” she chuckled 
“Oh yeah, I have tampons in my room. I’ll bring you a few to get you through until you can go to a local store” you told the girl, she smiled at you “Thank you, youre an angel” 
You just smiled and then turned walking to your room, going straight to the washroom, to look through your toiletries bag. As you looked at the mini travel sized bag you brought filled with tampons, it hit you, you had never gotten your period. 
You were supposed to get it right before the trip and the last few days of your period should’ve been the first couple days you were away but as you got ready for vacation, you still hadn’t gotten it which was why you brought a weeks worth figuring you’d end up getting it on the trip but you still hadn’t gotten it and that sparked a fear within you. 
You quickly grabbed a few for Kika and closed the bag. As you turned to leave the washroom, you bumped into Lando “Oh sorry babe” you told him, you must’ve seemed frazzled judging by the expression Lando offered you 
“Are you okay?” he asked “Oh yeah, just need to give something to Kika” you told him hiding the tampons behind your back.
Obviously Lando knew what a period was, having a mother, 2 sisters and a girlfriend, he was used to it and had they been for you, you wouldn’t have cared but you didn’t want to make Kika uncomfortable so you with held those details from him. 
“Oh okay..well I’m ready to go whenever you want to go take some photos” he told you, offering you his typical Lando smile. You smiled, leaning up to kiss his lips “I can be ready in a few minutes” you told him once you pulled away. 
Then moved around him, being sure he couldn’t see what was behind your back before leaving the room, walking to Kika’s. You knocked on the door, she answered almost immediately  “You’re my lifesaver. I owe you” she told you once you handed her the tampons. 
“Really glad you said that, I need you to get me something from the store whenever you go” you told her biting your bottom lip, something you did when you were nervous 
“What’s up?” she asked 
“Can you get me a couple pregnancy tests” you whispered, not wanting anyone to hear. Kika’s eyes grew in size “Woah, really?” she confirmed, you just nodded, not saying anything. 
“Yeah of course. Want me to leave them in your suitcase while you’re out?” she offered 
“That’d be great. Thank you” you told her 
“Do you really think you’re” she started before gesturing to your stomach instead of saying the word 
“Honestly I’m not too sure, it didn’t cross my mind until moments ago when I realized I missed my period” you explained, she nodded along 
“Well you aren’t alone regardless of the results. We’re all here for you” she reassured you, you smiled at her words. 
“Thanks Kika, I appreciate that” you told her “Anyways I should go and get ready, Lan and I are going to take some photos around the area, I’ll see you later” you told her offering her a goodbye before walking back to yours and Lando’s room. 
You quickly changed into something clean, washed your face, tied your hair into a high ponytail and then slipped on your converse to go meet Lando downstairs. 
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landonorris, francisca.cgomez, oscarpiastri, mclaren & others liked 
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fan2: they’re so cute 
fan3: y/n giving us the lando content 
fan4: the y/nlando crumbs 
landonorris: my favourite adventure partner 🧡
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francisca.cgomez: my faves ☺️
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-
You and Lando ended up having an awesome time. You walked around and took plenty of photos. Yours were of the area, some of the locals, some of Lando, a good variety meanwhile Lando’s were mostly of you. 
He called you his muse the first time you asked him why he took so many pictures of you but by now you had grown used to it and didn’t question it. 
In the midst of walking around, you had grabbed a quick bite to eat at a cute cafe. You went with a fruit parfait and water, figuring it was the safest option not wanting to risk being sick. 
After being out for a couple hours, you eventually made your way back to the villa. When you got back, you got a text from Kika after passing her in the kitchen. 
Kika: ‘They’re in your suitcase, under a pile of bathing suits’ 
You quickly texted her back 
Y/N: ‘Thank you. Now I owe you’ 
Kika: ‘If you end up having a girl, name her Francisca 😌’
You laughed, not answering her but rather hearting the message then going to find the tests. 
When you walked into your room, you heard Lando in the washroom, so you checked your suitcase to double check where they were and then once you had confirmation, covered them back up. 
You had plans with everyone to go out tonight so you wouldn’t be able to test until tomorrow. You weren’t sure how you were gonna avoid drinking tonight. 
It’s not as if you were a heavy drinker, you just enjoyed doing shots while you were out and you could handle your alcohol well so nights out never phased you. 
Tonight however to be cautious incase you were pregnant you had to avoid alcohol. 
You sighed, so far this trip you had spent more time stressed out then relaxed and you weren’t sure how much more you could handle before you exploded from the uncertainty. 
You heard Lando finishing in the washroom so you quickly grabbed an outfit from your suitcase before shutting it. 
“I thought you were gonna join me in the shower” Lando said when he walked out, his curls wet from the water
“Sorry my love, I took too long trying to figure out what to wear” you lied, offering him a soft smile 
“It’s okay, I can think of a couple ways you can make it up to me” he winked at you, you blushed. 
“Your cheeky” you told him smiling as he laughed at your comment. 
You quickly got yourself ready and then you made your way downstairs with Lando to meet everyone else. Once everyone was ready to go, you made your way to the local club. 
On the way, Kika linked her arm with yours and walked a bit up from the boys. 
“Did you test?” She asked in a low tone, you subtly shook your head 
“I need your help tonight avoiding alcohol” you replied keeping your voice low 
She nodded “Don’t worry, we’ll get you a mocktail at the bar and you can either sip on it through the evening or keep going back for the same one. Then with shots, we’ll tell the bartender to give you water” she explained still keeping her voice low, you offered her a small smile 
“I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here. You and Lily have both been the best” you exclaimed, Kika just smiled and gave you a side hug 
“That’s what friends do” she told you.
-
Once you got to the club, Kika went to get your drinks and made sure to tell the bartender the plan. The bartender was a female and without even having to explain why, somehow she understood and told Kika to always give you the shot with a rounder base. 
So far everything had been going smoothly and once people became more intoxicated, it was easier to let loose and not keep up the show as much as you had been. 
Surprisingly you were having a great time sober, just getting to dance with everyone and enjoy being with your friends, this was exactly what you needed and it took your mind off what you had to do tomorrow. 
Currently you were dancing with Lando, his hands were on your waist and you could smell the alcohol on his breath. It didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. 
“Babyyyyy” he said into your ear due to the loud music 
“Yes Lan?” You asked laughing at your boyfriends behaviour 
“I love youuu” he told you stretching out the you. You smiled at him 
“I know. I love you too” you told him running a hand through his curls, he closed his eyes enjoying the feeling 
“Can we go back to our place, I just want to be alone with you” he told you, pulling you closer and nuzzling his face in your neck, breathing in your perfume.
“What about our friends?” You asked him, even though you knew they’d be fine and you wouldn’t mind alone time with Lando
“They’ll be fine” he said as he started kissing your neck, you shuddered a bit at the sensation. 
“Don’t start doing that here or we won’t be able to stop” you told him even though you didn’t want him to stop 
“I don’t want to stop” he said pulling his lips away to answer you before leaning down and kissing you. 
You felt yourself getting weaker in the knees. This was the effect Lando had on you. 
“Okay fine, let’s leave then” you said in between breaths, he smiled and then grabbed your hand, intertwining his with yours and carefully made his way to the door. 
“Where are you going?” Kika asked as you passed her and Pierre 
“Back to the Villa. See you later, stay safe” you told her quickly offering a wave over your shoulder 
She chuckled “Children having a child” she muttered under her breath 
“What did you just say?” Pierre asked his girlfriend 
Kika didn’t think he had heard with the music “Nothing” she quickly said 
“No I swear you said” he started but she stopped him before he could finish. 
“Pierre just drop it for now. Please” she asked. The look they shared said enough. He nodded and then they went back to dancing. 
She hoped he wouldn’t say anything further on the topic, her boyfriend had a tendency to spread gossip even if it wasn’t always intentional but hopefully this time, he’d keep it to himself. 
Back at the Villa, you and Lando were having a great time and took advantage of the empty house, getting to be loud as you pleased. If you weren’t already pregnant, there’s a good possibility after tonight, you might’ve been. 
-
Moments Before Finding Out
The next morning, you woke up wrapped in the duvet and Lando. You smiled at how peaceful he looked. Then you remembered what you had to do and suddenly you felt the nerves creep back up on you. 
You sighed and carefully got out of bed, being sure not to wake Lando. Thankfully he was a heavy sleeper when he had been drinking. 
You crept over to your suitcase, finding the pregnancy tests and taking them to the washroom. You had googled that testing in the morning was the best time so that’s what you were doing. 
You locked the door and then opened the first box. Taking the test and sitting on the toilet. You quickly peed on the stick and then placed it back on the counter, on top of a piece of toilet paper. You finished up and then pulled your sleep shorts back up and set the timer on your phone. Sitting on the edge of the toilet. 
You closed your eyes trying your best to keep your breathing steady. Everything would be fine. Lando loved you and even if this was unexpected, he wouldn’t leave you, at least you didn’t think he would, he wasn’t like that. You did some more deep breaths until your timer went off and you quickly silenced it not wanting to wake up Lando. 
You shakily stood up from the toilet and with your shaking hands, reached for the test and that’s when you saw, the two lines looking up at you, indicating you were pregnant.
-
After Finding Out
After the first positive, you had to do the other 3 tests to be sure and of course those all came back positive. You put them back in one of the boxes and just stood there in shock. 
You were pregnant. You were going to be a mom and Lando was going to be a dad. You wanted to cry but you also knew once you started you wouldn’t be able to stop. 
You weren’t sure how long you stayed in the washroom until you heard Lando call your name, you knew you had to tell him now or else you’d drive yourself mad keeping it in. 
You opened the door and made your way back to the bed. Seeing Lando sitting up rubbing his eyes, he must’ve just woken up.
“Lan, I need to tell you something” you told him biting your lip due to your nerves. He looked confused 
“Is everything okay? Did something happen?” He asked as you made your way to sit next to him. You sat with your feet tucked under you 
You reached for his hand “Nothing happened” you reassured him then took a deep breath before continuing
“I’m pregnant” you told him trying to keep your voice steady and calm not wanting to show your nerves, already knowing Lando would have plenty of his own. 
“Sorry but I think I heard you incorrectly; did you say pregnant?” He asked rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. 
You nodded your head, not sure what was going through his mind at the moment. You sat in silence for what felt like a lifetime, the longer the more nervous you got. 
Lan was never speechless and this scared you “Lan please say something” you said, feeling yourself wanting to cry even more now 
He must’ve sensed you were on the verge of tears “Baby I'm sorry, come here” he said opening his arms which you gladly accepted and buried your head in his chest, the tears finally leaving. 
“It’s unexpected but it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out together” he said rubbing your back “I love you and there’s no one else I’d want to have children with, I just thought it’d be a bit further down the road but this is okay. Baby’s are a good thing regardless of when they come” he told you. 
You pulled away, wiping your eyes “So you aren’t gonna leave?” You asked as you hiccuped 
“Not a chance. You’re stuck with me for life now” he told you smiling. You returned the smile finally feeling better. 
You and Lando spent the rest of the morning cuddled up, talking about your baby, what you thought they’d look like, how they’d act, if they were a boy or a girl. 
At some point you must’ve started to drift off cause you found yourself cuddled up next to Lando as he played with your hair, subconsciously your hand found its place on your stomach and Lando kissed your head. 
He loved you and would do anything for you and now that meant your baby as well. The two of you were his world and he planned on spending the rest of his life making sure you both knew how much he loved you both. 
-
taglist: @namgification
AH! I hope you all enjoyed this <3 I had such a fun time writing it and I'm proud of how it turned out! Im always open to feedback so please share your thoughts !
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ddarker-dreams · 2 months ago
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Hey Lock!!!! How are you doing? Do you have any Chrollo crumbs for us? 👀👀👀👀
i'm doing well today anon, thank you for asking!!!!!!!!!!! 💖💖💖 and yes ... i have this chrollo thought that has been floating around in my head rent-free...
chrollo is not a yandere you want to genuinely upset.
he doesn't do 'forgive and forget.' he may appear outwardly courteous, but he's not above being petty and cruel. it's for your benefit that he keeps these tendencies to himself. there are days you can forget who exactly he is, days where he feels more like a pesky ex than an actual threat. deep down in your subconscious, you know you'd never make it far should an escape find initial success. the usual avenues won't be available to you. there's no flagging down a bystander, who in turn will alert the authorities and shuffle you off into protective custody.
there's just you and the dwindling distance between an immensely displeased force.
you're unsure what compels you to do it. perhaps it's paranoia, exhaustion, or sheer desperation from how little you can actively do to prevent what awaits; but you call him. on a payphone, amidst a bustling metropolis. you're seconds away from transit that'd speedily haul you away, should he track the call. your mouth goes dry as each ring sounds. you begin having second thoughts, wondering what exactly it is you're hoping to accomplish—
—when a familiar voice on the other line greets you. the quality distorts it ever so slightly, but your recognition is immediate, as is the way your heart temporarily stops.
he'll ask if you're alright. if you've been resting well, getting enough to eat, taking your medication.
your responses are automatic, like you're catching up with an old friend. he doesn't come across as angry, or upset really; more concerned than anything else. he does care about you. nothing you do will ever change that. he knows your allergies, what you prefer the AC to be on in the summer and heat in the winter, to turn on the subtitles when watching a movie without even asking.
he knows you.
you didn't mean to chat this long. it's a bad idea, potentially the start of the end, yet you can't help asking:
"... are you mad at me?"
he goes quiet.
not much time passes. you think you hear him sigh, but the connection's bad and your brain sleep deprived.
"i don't know, dear," he eventually admits. the pet name lacks its usual warmth. "i'm always pursuing you in some regard, aren't i? and yet... you always turn your back. always evade me, right at the last second. just when i think i finally have you, i'm reminded removing your heart might be my best chance at having it."
another pause.
"don't mind my musings. we both know out of all the lives i'll take, yours is perfectly safe."
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j23r23 · 3 months ago
Text
That's my wife!
tangerine x wife reader
Waring: Violence and Fluff
BTW: Thank you @little-miss-dilf-lover for being my muse and making me write again 🍊🫶🏻🧡
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Tangerine had never been one to keep his temper in check, especially when it came to you. The two of you had been in far worse situations, but today was different. The local police force had no idea who they were dealing with, and it didn’t help that they were handling you both like a pair of thugs.
The officer shoving you into the back of the police car had already crossed a line, his grip too tight, his attitude too arrogant and his hands touching you. But when the other one got rough with you, pushing you toward the vehicle with far more force than necessary and making you trip, something snapped in Tangerine.
“Oi, that’s my wife!” His voice cut through the commotion like a knife, fury lacing every word. Before anyone could react, he lunged forward, headbutting the cop who’d been forcing him into the car. The crack of bone against bone was unmistakable, and the officer staggered back, blood pouring from his nose.
Tangerine didn’t stop there. He turned with a wild intensity in his eyes, his curly hair disheveled, one strand falling across his forehead, giving him a feral look. With his hands cuffed behind his back, he couldn’t do much, but that didn’t stop him. He barreled toward the cop who’d been rough with you, and with another fierce headbutt, sent him sprawling to the ground, clutching his face in pain.
Blood now dripped down Tangerine’s forehead, his hair a mess of curls and sweat. He sniffed, a drop of blood running down to his upper lip before he spit, his saliva tinged with red, at the cop writhing on the pavement. There was a terrifying calmness about him as he turned to you, the fiery rage melting into something softer, more tender.
“You alright, love?” he asked, his voice gentle, as if he hadn’t just taken down two cops with nothing but his head. His eyes searched yours, worry etched in every line of his face.
Before you could respond, the other officers started to move in, their shouts filling the air as they surrounded the two of you. But in that moment, all that mattered was Tangerine. Despite the chaos, despite the fact that your hands were cuffed behind your backs, you stepped closer to him. He leand in as close as he could, and you buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his body on your cheek. His chin rested on top of your head, his breath coming in soft, reassuring huffs.
“I’m alright,” you murmured into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.
His kissed the top of your head, as if reassuring himself that you were really there, that you were safe. You look up wanting to kiss away his worry.
Just as your lips were about to brush his, the moment shattered. Rough hands yanked you backward, pulling you away from Tangerine before you could taste his lips. The separation was brutal the world that had narrowed to just the two of you expanded back out into chaos.
His eyes widened in fury as you were torn apart from eachother, and before either of you could protest, a cop shoved him roughly toward a separate squad car.
“Tangerine!” you called out, your voice cracking with desperation as he was pulled away. But before his name fully left your lips, a hand clamped down on your arm, yanking you back so brutally it felt like your shoulder might tear from its socket.
The violent pull sent you stumbling, nearly crashing to the ground. The cop jerked you upright, twisting your arm more with such force that pain shot through your entire body.
"Get the fuck off of her!" Tangerine roared, thrashing against the officers holding him, as he tried to get back to you. But they were too many now, and even he couldn’t fight them all off with his hands cuffed. You struggled too, your heart pounding in your chest, the grip on your arms unyielding, forcing you further away from him.
The last thing you saw before they shoved you into the back of a squad car was Tangerine being kicked into another vehicle, his eyes locked on yours with a look that promised he wouldn’t stop fighting until he got back to you. But then the door slammed shut, cutting off your view. The cold metal of the cuffs dug into your wrists as the car pulled away, the flashing lights reflecting off the windows as the city streets blurred by.
Your mind was spinning, back to Tangerine. You could only imagine what he was going through in the other car, his fury probably pushing him to the brink. You hoped he wouldn’t do anything too reckless—though, knowing him, that was probably a lost cause.
When you finally arrived at the precinct, they dragged you out of the car, your shoulder aching from the rough treatment. You were led through the fluorescent-lit corridors, the sound of your footsteps echoing against the linoleum floor. The air thick with the scent of sweat and cheap coffee. The officers, still on edge from Tangerine’s outburst, were rough as they took your fingerprints, mugshot and your personal belongings.
They put you in a holding cell, the bars cold and unwelcoming as they locked you inside. As you paced the small space, minutes felt like hours as you waited, your heart thudding with every creak of the building around you.
Then, finally, you heard a familiar voice outside the cell.
“What the hell have you two gotten yourselves into this time?”
Lemon’s tone was half exasperated, half amused, though there was an underlying concern that warmed you just a bit. A moment later, the door swung open, and there he was, looking far too calm for someone about to bail his brother and sister-in-law out of jail. His bright yellow jacket stood out starkly against the drab surroundings, like a ray of misplaced sunshine.
Lemon's exasperation clear on his face as he surveyed the mess that was your situation. His eyes softened when they landed on you, taking in the bruises forming on your arms and wrists.
“Alright, let’s get you out of here,” he sighed, pulling some strings with the Sergeant and sliding a few bills across the counter.
“They’re releasing him now,” Lemon said as he guided you out of the cell. “You’re lucky I got here when I did. Tangerine was about to start a riot in his cell...”
You followed Lemon through the station, the tension in your chest easing with each step. When you reached the front desk, you saw Tangerine standing there, still cuffed but very much alive, a bandage hastily slapped across his forehead and his shirt stained with dried blood. His curls even more disheveled than before, but you’d never been happier to see him.
“Lemon, about time, mate,” Tangerine grumbled, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Yeah, yeah, save it for later,” Lemon replied, rolling his eyes but clearly glad to see his brother in one piece. “You two are bloody hopeless, you know that?”
Tangerine ignored the jab. The moment his eyes met yours, his entire demeanor softened. He jerked his arms, clearly eager to get to you, but the officer behind the desk held onto his cuffs until the last possible second, as if hoping for one more reason to keep him locked up.
Finally, though, the metal restraints fell away, and Tangerine was free. He crossed the distance between you in a few quick strides. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms. He held you tight, like he’d never let go again, his lips brushing the top of your head in a silent promise.
“You alright?” he murmured, repeating the question he’d asked before everything went sideways.
“Now I am,” you whispered back, leaning into him as much as you could.
Lemon cleared his throat, making a show of looking anywhere but at the two of you. “Right, well, let’s get out of here before these idiots change their minds. We’ll deal with this mess later.”
With Lemon leading the way, you and Tangerine made your way out of the precinct, your fingers holding his as you walked side by side. As Tangerine pulled you closer, his arm slung protectively around your shoulders.
The cool night air hit your face as you stepped outside, the city buzzing around you as if nothing had happened.
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dwaekkicidal · 4 months ago
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hiii!! can i req a fic or smh in which reader is lee know's younger sister and hes lowkey protective??? (i recently saw a fancall of him rejecting the idea of introducing his "younger sister" to the other members soo.. 😭😭) and like hyunjin gains a big fat crush on reader and reader is oblivious abt it but reader actually has a crush on hyunjin also and lee know founds out abt this?? 🥲 IDK IM SO SORRY THIS IS MY FIRST EVER TIME REQUESTING SOMEONE AND ALSO I'VE BEEN DYING TO SEE THESE TYPE OF FICS BUT THERE AREN'T ANY AVAILABLE..
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 3.3k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fluff, brother! Lee Know, crush!Hyunjin, mutual pinning, kissy kissy, theyre in love your honor
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: catching up on requests, i kinda hate the way i wrote this but i hope you like it lol ♥️
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“I think I’m in love with Y/N…” 
Chan and Changbin’s eyes widen while Han chokes on his iced coffee. “...You WHAT?? Minho's sister?!?” Changbin’s hand comes down on the back of Han’s head, shutting the boy up instantly.
Hyunjin cringes at the reaction, already knowing it was a bad situation in itself. But then the bad reaction coming from the best friend of the man in question only makes him feel worse. He scowls and he can feel tears start to prickle his eyes so he hides himself as best as he can at the moment, plopping himself on the couch and shoving his head in his hands. “I’m gonna die...”
Chan chuckles and takes the seat next to Hyunjin. “Listen man. I know he seems like the devil in human form, but he loves you like you’re his brother. At most, he might be mad at you for a while but he wouldn’t actually hate you.”
Han fixes himself and nods along as if Hyunjin could see him. “He’s… super protective of her after her last relationship. But! He sees us all as his brothers so it can’t be that bad!… I think?” He whispers the last part under his breath, thinking that nobody would hear him. But they do… And Hyunjin only whines more and curls into a ball on the couch, hands still covering his face.
The rest of the morning after that the boys tried desperately to lift Hyunjin’s mood. They managed to hype him up enough to get him cheery enough to leave the dorm and head to the company, using some excuse about wanting to re-record a few lines and wanting his opinion since Changbin wouldn’t be available.
They also figured that getting Lee Know in the vicinity, to show that he wasn’t onto Hyunjin, might help with his nerves, which worked! At first. What they didn’t account for, however, was the girl who was also on her way to the building to "spend some time with her brother.”
Though, you’d never admit to them that you were really only there for somebody else.
And it didn’t take long for you to find them. They were always in the same 4 rooms so after doing a process of elimination and hearing loud screaming from down the hall, you discovered a good chunk of the group.
The entirety of Danceracha along with Chan and Han were in the dance studio, mainly flopping around to one of their songs and not actually practicing. Well, other than Hyunjin that is.
It made you smile seeing them goof around with no worries, but the second you looked a little to the left, your heart immediately skipped a beat. Hyunjin was standing near one of the mirrors, sweat dripping down his neck and eyes focused purely on the motions of the instructor.
You recognized the choreo, it was one you had seen a week or so ago from the last time you visited. But something about seeing Hyunjin so focused on his craft and smiling when he got the moves right made you melt into a puddle.
Just thinking about him was enough to make your heart beat faster, but you were also just the tiniest bit insanely in love with him. So seeing him in person for the first time in what felt like decades made you feel things that words couldn’t explain.
You were cut from your thoughts by a hooded figure- your brother, joining the instructor in helping Hyunjin. Then came Han’s booming voice. He screamed out your name super dramatically as he motioned for you to come over to where he, Felix, and Chan lay across each other on the floor.
You tore your eyes from Hyunjin and looked at them, giggling and shushing him as you headed over to them. You made it over to them without causing any distractions to the others- or, at least you thought you did. Hyunjin was distracted the second he heard your name, though he didn’t realize that it was because you were in the room.
And his distracted demeanor was unfortunately obvious to both the dance instructor and Minho. Though luckily neither of them realized your presence either. They both just assumed the boy was getting tired so he called for a break and Minho pulled Hyunjin to where everybody else was sitting.
It was only then that both men finally realized you were here, and Hyunjin found himself almost tripping on air when he saw the familiar shape of your body amongst the cuddle puddle. Your back was to them, so you had no idea they were even done practicing until you felt a human throw himself on your back. “HEY!! Get off me, Min!”
Minho groaned happily, getting comfortable and stretching himself over you as if he just got home after a long day of work. A big smile took over his face as he made some comment about how chairs shouldn’t wiggle around so much.
Hyunjin watched and laughed to himself before finding a seat behind his leader. Han looked back at him and smiled apologetically, knowing all too well that he was stressed out of his mind. But, in an attempt not to draw too much attention to Hyunjin, he went back to scrolling on his phone and stroking Felix’s hair as if nothing was wrong.
Chan however turned around completely, scooting over to sit right next to Hyunjin before sighing. His voice was below a whisper as he apologized, “Sorry man. I didn’t know she would be coming today.”
“It’s fine. Maybe I’ll feel better now that I’m exposed to both of them at the same time.” Chan made a face full of doubt but didn’t persist. He simply leaned back onto his hands and joined in one of the conversations.
Hyunjin looked away from him just in time to watch you kick Minho off you the rest of the way. You made an ugly face at him and stuck your tongue out before looking behind you as if you were looking for somebody. He followed your eyes to the mirror, that same spot he was just practicing with the instructor.
He felt his heart panged a little and he found himself frowning at the thought that you might’ve started to fancy their dance instructor. Maybe Minho-hyung would want her to date him instead…? He is pretty attractive...
He rolled his neck and took a deep breath, shooing those thoughts away before looking back over at you. He watched your shoulders drop as you didn’t find whoever you were looking for, then you turned around and your eyes met his. Both of you made a surprised face for a moment before you laughed. “Pfft-”
You mouthed a ‘Hi’ at him and waved with a smile sweet enough to give him a cavity. He melted in his spot and waved back, watching in silence as you stared at him for a moment before turning to the blonde boy currently pawing at your leg for a second of attention.
He continued to stare at you for a while longer with a small smile on his lips. The time flew out the window and he completely forgot his other members were even there. He even forgot where he was at as he lost himself in daydreams about a future with you.
It wasn’t until the sun had started to set that he zoned back in. And it was really only thanks to the loud groans of the boys getting up and stretching. It left you, Hyunjin, and Chan on the floor as the others bid farewell and Minho told you to text him when you got home.
You agreed and sent him a thumbs up before moving to sit next to the other boys with your back against the wall. By the time you sat down, Chan was already on his feet, stretching and feigning exhaustion. “I’m gonna head home. Have fun you two.” He didn’t leave any room for questions as he sent a wink to Hyunjin and speed walked out of the room.
Silence fell between the two of you for some minutes until you attempted to break the silence. “And then there were two…” Hyunjin giggles and nods, turning his body to sit facing you and leaning his head against the wall. The two of you continued to stay quiet for some time after that, mostly scrolling through your phones and occasionally showing each other a post you found funny.
Though, it wasn't necessarily an awkward silence, it was a very comfortable silence that you would argue that you could sit in for hours on end without being bothered by it. You don’t know this, but Hyunjin would also agree.
Although he was a little too caught up in his thoughts to think about it. The confidence from the pep talk the boys gave him earlier that morning was still running through his veins, and he almost had half a mind to confess to you right then and there.
Then, all of a sudden an idea comes to mind and he blurts out a question, not giving himself time to overthink it.
“Do you-”
“So-”
You both speak at the same exact time, cutting each other off. Wide eyes are shared between the two of you before you burst into giggles and motion for him to continue. He tries insisting that you go first, but you close the imaginary zipper on your lips and throw the key towards the mirrors.
He chuckles and shakes his head, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I… Do you want to go on a walk with me? To the shore nearby? I know it’s getting dark, but I just thought it would be nice and- and the weather is still good so-”
You laugh at his rambling and he cuts himself off, brain malfunctioning as his mind gets bombarded with images of your smile. He finds himself subconsciously smiling and in that moment he realizes just how in deep he really is. It’s not until you nod and make a quiet noise of agreement that he’s snapped out of his trance.
He jumps to his feet and holds out a hand for you, helping you to stand before jogging over to the seats and gathering his belongings. A smile takes over your face as he rushes back to your side and leads you out the door with a hand ghosting your lower back almost protectively.
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Hyunjin continues to lead the way up the seawall as he tells you about his most recent paintings and walks shoulder to shoulder with you, his hand occasionally brushing against yours.
He walks a little farther before you notice a heightened concrete platform. It has stairs that lead up to it and you can already tell it has a pretty view so you point towards it. He glances at it before looking back over at you.
“Should we sit here for a bit? I wanted to talk to you about something.” You smile and nod, taking the lead and walking towards the stairs. He follows you up them and watches as you head to the railing that separates you from the sea.
The air was comfortable around the time you guys had started wandering around earlier, thanks to the hot summer air finally cooling down. But now it was starting to become a biting cold. No thanks to the freezing, metal railing that you were leaning on.
You shiver a singular time and run one of your hands up and down your arm as you look over the sea. It was barely noticeable, but he noticed immediately and became a little worried.
And, how do you expect him not to notice? He’s constantly entranced by your everything and worries about you every single day. He just can’t help himself from just staring at you during rare moments like this. Rare moments when it’s just the two of you, enjoying each other's company.
Hyunjin realizes that he is staring when you shiver again and he licks his lips nervously. He stretches, silently pulling his hoodie over his head as he moves forward, gathering the fabric and presenting the neck hole to you.
You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head at him with a confused expression, but he insists and moves forward again. This time taking a big step and standing less than a foot away from you so he could put the sweater on you himself.
He gently places it over your head and helps it down around your neck. You pop your hands through the sleeves and grab the fabric by his hands, assuming that he would have let it go already. But he hadn’t. Instead, he sits there with pink cheeks and his lips caught between his teeth as he pulls it the rest of the way down your torso for you.
The action makes your heart flutter and your knees almost buckle at the way he's looking at you, eyes shiny and full of something you have only dreamed of seeing. You heart beats out of your chest as he stays close, not even trying to back away from you.
“A bit cliché, don’t you think?” You smile teasingly and, despite your comment, you slither your hands past the pocket and melt into the warm, soft fabric. It smells just like him, obviously, and you can’t help but take a deep breath. Your body physically relaxes at the scent and he notices immediately.
He bites his lip in an attempt to hide a smile and he chuckles under his breath. “Yeah, maybe a little.” Silence falls between the two of you again and you find yourself staring at him for the millionth time this night. He stares back, lost in your pretty lips. He really wishes he could kiss you right now.
He visibly gulps and tears his eyes away from your lips to look you in the eye “Y/N…” His breath quickens and you hum, signaling to him that you’re listening despite the lack of thoughts going on behind your eyes.
In the corner of your eye, you watch his fingers twitch. They hesitantly move forward, between your bodies, and grab your buried hands out of the pocket of the sweater. He sees your breath hitch and you glance down at your connected hands before looking back up at him.
“Listen, I…” He looks behind you towards the water momentarily and takes a deep breath before angling his neck to look at you again. “I know this might be inappropriate, but I really like you. I've had feelings for you for a while, but I was scared that you and Minho would hate me.” His hands are shaking as he talks and you stare up at him in shock.
Hyunjin’s eyes search yours as you blink repeatedly, a cute little habit that you picked up from your brother. It could almost make him laugh if he wasn’t so fucking afraid right now. But he waits rather patiently, thumbs running over the back of your hand as he tries his best to calm himself down. Your lips part after a few seconds and he holds his breath.
“You… like me?” Your eyebrows furrow and his heart drops. His eyes widen and he pulls his hands away from you as apologies start to pour out of his lips. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I just had to say something before I exploded. I’m really sorry, Y/N. I’ll leave you alone if I made you uncomfortable-”
“Wait no, Hyunjin! I- I’m sorry that came out wrong.” You laugh nervously and grab his hands, already missing the warmth. “I like you too. I really, really like you… I talk about you all the time to my friends, I’m sure they’re sick of seeing your name in their text messages.”
You both laugh and he seems to loosen up again. He waits a few minutes, letting your words hang in the air as his nerves calm down. Then he tries pushing it a step further.
His hands are warm as his fingers intertwine with yours and he smiles to himself when you reciprocate the action. “Your brother will kill me, but I’m willing to get cooked alive for you. Will you let me be your boyfriend?”
You smile widely and nod, “I won’t let him do that to you.” He huffs out a laugh and his eyes quickly flick to your lips again. “Can… Can I kiss you?”
Your eyes widen and your cheeks somehow burn even more, but you nod enthusiastically. He lets go of your left hand in favor of settling his hand against your cheek and rubbing the skin there with his thumb. You close your eyes and nuzzle into it, making him smile to himself as he leans forward.
Then, he finally closes the distance between you. You swear you can hear the fireworks exploding around you and you melt against his soft lips. The kiss is short lived though, as he doesn’t want to push a boundary and scare you away already.
You make a noise of disagreement when he pulls back and you wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him back into you as you whine. He smiles and doesn’t make you wait much longer before he pushes his lips against yours again, this time moving his now-free hand to rest on your waist and pull you into him.
You feel the hand on your cheek slide to the back of your neck, holding you there as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss. His tongue slides over your bottom lip and you are in the process of parting your lips when a voice startles you both out of your skin.
“Hwang Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin flinches and you feel him frown against your lips at the sound of his surname as well as the stranger interrupting his important business. It was the dead of night so anybody around was seen as a threat so he went on high alert, backing away and preparing to hide you behind him.
But as soon as his lips leave yours, he realizes he knows that voice all too well. The two of you separate and look over to the stairs like deer caught in headlights. “H-Hyung??”
“Min-” Minho glances over to you for a moment, silencing you. He’s scowling but loosens up when he sees the genuine fear in both of your faces. He sighs loudly and crosses his arms around his chest as he stretches his neck. It’s only then that you notice Jeongin behind him, staring quietly with wide eyes and his jaw on the floor.
“I checked your location to see if you got home safe and freaked out when I saw you were near the sea at fucking half past 10.” You curse to yourself, forgetting that the two of you shared locations for safety reasons once you moved to the city and then again when you realized that he said it was already almost 11 o’clock.
“I thought something bad happened to you.” Minho nervously bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes dart between the both of you, then he sighs loudly and looks to the side, suddenly becoming flustered. An almost awkward silence fills the air around the four of you.
Eventually, Jeongin finally fixes his jaw just in time for Minho to turn to him and nod his head towards the car. You hear a faint ‘Let’s go’ before Minho takes the first step down the stairs to follow Jeongin. You and Hyunjin glance at each other in confusion and you open your mouth to call out to your brother, but before you can he looks back at Hyunjin with fire in his eyes.
“Break her heart and you won’t get the mercy of the air fryer. I’ll kill you with my bare hands.” Then he looks at you. “And, please for the love of God, get her home before midnight or I’ll kill both of you.”
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